#Reminder that this was right after I caught up to so this was like the third episode tops I watched when it released | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotluncheddie · 2 days

Text

Day 4: Edging

"Bi Freak"

wc: 3.5 | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, bisexual Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington, mean dom Steve Harrington (kinda), degradation, sub top Eddie

written for @subeddieweek <3

📸 📸 📸 📸 📸

‘Jesus, are you hard?’ Steve asks, incredulous at how fucking ridiculous Eddie’s cock can be at times. Even walking just behind him Steve must spot how Eddie’s hands shift to tug at his belt buckle, the way his gait is a little more awkward than usual.

Eddie freezes, readjusting again as Steve saunters past. Cheeks feeling a little hot over being caught. He was Subtle, or so he thought, but his jeans must just not be tight enough to hide his boner.

They're walking back to the beamer after eating at the diner in town. A few familiar faces around since its summer. The two of them included, back over from Indi for a visit to see Wayne for his birthday.

Unfortunately, seeing Wayne means staying with Wayne and while that is wonderful, the walls of the trailer are still, absolutely, the width of paper mache. So, Steve had decided the concept of sex was much too mortifying in those conditions. A different consensus from when they first got together, Eddie had pointed out. But, Steve had just laughed and kissed him, in that condescending way that just made the whole situation so so much harder, figuratively and literally.

Its been a week, basically, and Eddie’s getting desperate, and Steve is getting mean.

Eddie jogs to catch up to Steve's long strides. ‘Did you see her though? Christ Steve she, she's a vision. A fucking goddess dude.’

‘I saw I saw.’ Steve shoves his hands in his jacket, Eddie looming in close at his side.

‘Like she was something then, but now? Bigger and better, did you see? You saw them right?’ Eddie moves his arms around, cups his hands, clenches his fingers. A horny interpretive dance.

Steve sighs, faux wistfully. ‘Every day I almost forget how much of a tits guy you are, and everyday you just gotta remind me, huh? Munson? What's up with that?’ Steve jabs his elbow into Eddie’s side. Grins at the cackle it elicits.

‘You know I fundamentally disagree with that question, Stevie. No one should be subjected to a choice like that.’ Eddie laughs, swooping in close to Steve's neck for a moment, in that way he loves. Steve’s elbow coming out to make him back away.

Steve pulls his keys out of his pocket, the car coming into view, parked in the furthest corner.

‘Your tits are amazing by the way.’

Steve laughs again. ‘Thanks dude, I know. Lucky for you my ego is big enough to handle your crazy libido.’

Eddie grumbles, kicking at a can. ‘Only crazy because of the damn “no touching” rule you set.’

‘Aww’ Steve coos, ‘baby cant handle a little teasing anymore?’ He smirks at Eddie, unlocking the car but not opening the door, instead watching Eddie slump over, pouting.

Steve stalks around to the passenger side, opening the door for him and pulling his arm, shoving Eddie down onto the seat with a hand on his head.

Eddie whimpers, feels pre-cum leak out of his tip and soak into his boxers. Fuck, he’s hard - worse now. Steve’s not let him have more than a peck, more than a nighttime spoon, for days.

‘Wanna know a secret?’ Steve asks.

Eddie’s slumped on the passenger seat, feet still on concrete. He rubs his hands over his burning cheeks and peeks up at the sunshine being blocked from above. Steve leaning a forearm in the car hood, looming over Eddie, caging him in.

Steve steps right up into Eddie space, shoving his knee onto the seat right between Eddies thighs. crushing his cock. Steve leans in even closer, breath ghosting over Eddie's ear, making him shiver.

‘I know how she tastes.’

Eddie feels like all his air gets gut punched out of him, feels his fucking pupils dilate so much his vision goes blurry. He makes a strangled sort of moan. His boxers flooding with cum.

‘…Did? Did you just?’

Eddies panting so hard all he can really do is nod his head.

‘You’re so pretty.’ He slurs, staring up at Steve, haloed and lovely and how did Eddie get so lucky?

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, but he smiles down at him, strokes his cheek and looks at him with eyes full of stars. ‘You can go again through right?’ He asks.

Eddie beams. ‘Fuck yeah!’

Steve laughs, shaking his head. He closes Eddie’s door and gets behind the wheel. Puts on his sunglasses and lays his hand on Eddie’s thigh. ‘No touching while I’m driving. Let's go break into my parents house.’

Eddie leans back in the headrest, grinning. ‘By break in, do you mean use the spare key?’

‘Sure do baby. They won't even be there.’ Steve says, and pulls out of the diner parking lot.

Back at Steves Eddie sprawls out in his bedroom, familiar in its ugliness but the mattress has always been to die for.

Eddie listens to the sound of Steve moving through the house, not sure what he’s doing. But they’ve fallen into routines like this before, Eddie waiting upstairs while Steve did whatever it was that made a big empty house like this run smooth. He works the same magic on their apartment; structuring Eddie enough to not get overwhelmed by chores and eventually listening to Eddie’s please to not do it all himself. Steve could work himself to the bone and still ask if Eddie needed a glass of water. But now they have a chart, and Eddie’s always had a knack for laundry.

But, at times like these, brain directly attached to his dick and almost nowhere else, Eddie wants to be directed.He wants Steve to do exactly as much as he wants, do so exactly as he pleases, Eddie almost an afterthought.

Yeah, Eddie wants that. He shivers, hears Steves footsteps on the staircase.

‘Unzip your jeans but don’t take them off.’ Steve says, coming into the room, searching for something.

Eddie complies quickly, standing. Steve walks out of the room.

Steve walks back in with his shirt off. Looking Eddie up and down, face blank.

He lifts the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt and shoves it in his mouth, saliva soaking the fabric between his teeth, cool air hitting his exposed nipples. ‘Show me.’ Steve says, calm and neutral, like Eddie is his doll to play with.

He pulls at the waistband of his boxers and his eyes burn as he watches Steve. Refusing to blink, refusing to miss the look on his face once he sees the mess.

Steve’s eyes roam Eddie’s face for a moment, steely and almost cold. He looks down, raises his eyebrows. Eddie feels his cock twitch at the attention, at the judgment.

Steve looks back up. ‘Look at it.’ And Eddie glances down, breath hitching at the sight of his cock covered in his own cum, some of it starting to crust but the tip still shiny and wet, leaning against the sodden fabric of his boxers.

Eddie looks back up at Steve, sees that he watched his whole reaction. Pupils blown wide and Steve's hand has migrated up to tweak at his own nipple. Jealousy burns in Eddie’s gut; that he’s not allowed to touch Steve like that, not yet.

Eddie whimpers again, he wants to kiss him, wants to eat him.

‘Fuck’ Steve murmurs, like he can read Eddie’s mind. Maybe he can, or it’s just how good Steve has gotten at reading Eddie’s face.

‘Colour?’ Steve asks.

‘Super fuckin’ green.’ Eddie says around the fabric, grinning, watching Steves smile bloom right back

‘Good’ Steve pecs his top lip. Eddie surging forward, chasing, letting the wet hem fall.

Steve stops him with a finger on his chest. His expression smoothing back into one of mild disgust. ‘So needy.’ Steve drawls. ‘Take off everything but your boxers.’ And he’s gone again, leaving Eddie to struggle out of his clothes in a rush.

Steve walks back in, now only in his boxers too, Eddie can see the outline of his cock through the material and it makes his mouth water. It takes him a second to register that Steve’s holding the Polaroid camera now too.

‘Show me, like you did before.’ Steve says, fiddling with the camera, waiting.

Eddie does as he’s told and he feels goosebumps dabble over his skin, heat rushing south so fast it makes his nipples hard.

Steve takes a photo of eddies cock covered in his own, slightly crusted, cum. The flash taking Eddie’s breath away.

But Steve just leaves again, without a word. Eddie stands stock still and hears the shower turn on, the faint sound of the camera again.

Steve comes back in flapping the polaroids. He sets the camera down and walks back over to Eddie, handing him a damp wash cloth.

‘Clean yourself off.’ He says, leaning on one hip, looking board. ‘And fold your clothes on the desk, boxers on top, they need washing.’ Eyes flashing to Eddie’s, bitchy and judgmental. Eddie moans, even more heat rushing south, his gut churning.

But Eddie does as he’s told, ignoring the heat between his thighs, Steve’s eyes on him as he settles the clothes in a neat pile. ‘Good. Now grab a pillow and kneel down. You’re gonna watch my photos develop while I shower. That sound okay?’ He asks, condensing, but the question is laced with sweetness, infused with the knowledge that Steve knows Eddie loves him like this, loves being talked to like this. But he can end it any time. Any time either of them want.

Eddie just nods, bites his lip, turning to the bed to grab a pillow and situate himself on the floor.

Steve bends and lays the photos in front of where Eddie’s kneeled. Then strokes his cheek with a thumb, making Eddie preen, blinking his eyes closed slowly.

The crack of the slap registers after the feeling, Eddie’s head turned slightly to the side. Low moan distant to his own ears.

He blinks his eyes back open, looking up at Steve’s and his pretty face. He thinks there must be spit sliding down his chin, because Steve’s thumb comes to wipe something away, dipping into Eddie’s parted lips gently, for a moment.

And then Steve turns swiftly for the door, stopping just at the threshold. Eddie eyes snapping back up from where they were looking at his ass and Steve’s stifles a smile. Eddie’s own growing slow and dopey on his face.

‘You can touch, I want you hard once I’m back. But if you cum again I’m not doing anything with you for a week.’ He says and Eddie blinks at him. Nodding as the words filter through his brain.

He closes his eyes once Steve leaves and the water turns on. Lets his fingers dance towards his cock, cheek hot and tight and he moves it at the same time he wraps around himself, shoulders hunching around another guttural moan.

Then he remembers the photos.

He looks down and laying in front of his bent knees there’s two polaroids. The one of Eddie is almost fully developed, his dark thatch of hair speckled with globs of his own cum, white in contrast and just as noticeable in half crusted patches over the pink flush of his cock. It’s a mess.

Eddie works himself at the sight, getting to full hardness with a strangled gasp. Remembering Steve eyeing it, remembering what he’d said that caused Eddie to finish so quick.

The other is still only half developed. But the photos edges are rendering sections of the familiar Harrington bathroom, white tiles and blue walls, shower curtain and the edge of the large ornate mirror. Tan skin starts to become clear, Steve’s big hand holding the camera aloft, taking his own photo using the mirrors reflection, the back of his head.

Eddie’s hand speeds up and he watches, wide eyed, as Steve’s broad shoulders come into view, the arch and strong length of his back. Eddie bites his lip again, harder, as Steve’s back ends in his bare ass perched on the counter.

The dark ring of a plug just visible between his cheeks.

Eddie strangles a cry, gripping himself hard at the base, stifling his orgasm and feeling tears spring at his eyes. Steve’s must’ve been wearing that all through their time at the diner, all through the day. Stretched and wet and Eddie clenches his thighs together, covers his mouth with his palm and squeezes his eyes shut.

‘Fuck. Fuck!’ He mumbles behind his hand, breathing shakily through his nose. Steve is something else.

Finally the shower shuts off and Steve returns. Eddie still kneeling, panting heavily, cock hard and leaking between his thighs. Still coming down from the brink. Steve just smirks at him, running a towel through his hair.

He lays down on the bed, settling against the headboard. He trails his fingers over himself, tracing his nipple and stomach before giving his cock a few tugs, getting it hard.

Eddie watches the whole thing, hands still gripping his thighs.

Eventually Steve’s eyes slide open, that little smirk on his face. He opens his arms for Eddie, motioning him in.

Eddie scrambles up and into them, kissing and sucking at Steve’s neck and shoulders. Cock already grinding desperately between Steve’s damp cheeks.

‘You liked the pictures baby?’ Steve whispers, smile in his voice, mouth hot on Eddie’s ear.

Eddie shivers and pulls back, disbelief on his face. ‘I can’t believe you.’ He gushes.

Steve smiles at him and his cheeks are flush from the shower, his damp hair is falling into his forehead. ‘Fuck, you’re so pretty.’ Eddie says, always always amazed by Steve. He needs him, wants to be inside.

He grinds again, catching Steve’s hole, relishing in Steve’s eyes rolling slightly. ‘Get me wet first.’ Steve demands pulling at Eddie’s hair, shoving his head away.

Eddie bites his lip, cock twitching, he pulls at Steve’s thighs, bending him in half. Dips low to lick a long wet stripe across his ass. Tongue pressing at Steves hole, breaching the already stretched muscle and fucking his tongue in until there’s spit sliding down Steve’s crack.

Eventually Steve pulls Eddie off by his hair, chest all flushed and nipples hard.

Reaching over Steve gets the condom and lube from his bedside table. He doesn’t live here anymore, hasn’t for years. But the remnants of their sneaking around before Steve up and left with Eddie and Robin are still there. He never completely fell out with his parents, but he didn’t really tell them where he was going either. They continue to essentially ignore Steve and Steve continues to sneak into their house whenever he’s in Hawkins and fuck his boyfriend in whichever room he pleases. It’s not ideal, but it works.

‘Gonna show me what that useless cock can do?’ Steve goads, sitting up to roll the condom onto Eddie and slicking him with lube.

Eddie whines.

He hitches Steve’s thighs up, forcing him Back flat, hands beneath his knees. Steve sighs into the touch and Eddie watches his length get slowly swallowed by Steve’s tight, wet heat.

Eddie bottoms out, watching his length disappear. He feels his balls draw up, ears ringing and he’s so close. He’s so close.

The slap makes him stutter, eye wide as he stare at Steve. ‘Do not cum.’ Steve seethes, finger in eddies face, like he’s a misbehaving child. Eddie moans, gripping Steves thighs to hold himself still, breathing deeply through his nose to stave off his orgasm.

He stays buried in Steve, willing himself back down. Panting, he feels tears prickle at his eyes again. ‘That’s it.’ Steve soothes, hand coming up to stroke over the red mark he left on Eddie’s face.

Eddie breaths, eyes closed, feels the tendrils in his gut uncoil slightly. No longer right on the brink.

Eventually he opens them, Steve’s eyes on him. Eddie leans down, hands either side of Steve’s face. He starts moving his hips again, building a steady pace.

‘You should’ve touched yourself in front of her today.’ Steve says, looking up at Eddie with that closed off look again, haughty and judgmental. Eddie moans. ‘What do you think she would’ve done? If you got your stupid needy cock out in the diner, you think she would’ve laughed?’ Steve asks, voice mean and even, the only sign of arousal the flutter of his eyelashes as Eddie thrusts especially deep.

‘Fuck Steve.’ Eddie pants, thinking about it. ‘I used to think about that while you were at Scoops’ He admits, eyes watching Steve, watching his smirk broaden.

‘Yeah? You would’ve got your big dumb cock out on the counter for me while I scooped ice cream?’

Eddie’s hips stutter, he’s getting close again. ‘Yeah, used, u-used to go jack off in the bathrooms after seeing you at that mall. In that outfit. Fuck Steve, wanted you so bad.’ Eddie whines.

Steve coos, finger trailing up Eddie’s sweaty neck. ‘Who knew the freak would be so needy’

Eddie whimpers feeling a blush spread down his chest. He moves his hips faster, wanting to get in deeper.

Steve cracks, moaning. ‘Fuck, make me cum baby, get me there.’ Steve says, gripping his own cock now. Other hand holding him in place with the headboard. Eddie going faster, deeper, grazing that spot he knows so well inside Steve.

Steve throws his head back, releasing all over himself with a shout, soft hair splayed across the pillow and cheeks flushed pink. Eddie slows, grinding. He’s so close again, so achingly hard he can feel his pre dripping out, filling the condom.

‘I think I would’ve let you. Maybe Played with your cock while I worked.’ Steve pants. ‘But only if you cleaned up after yourself.’ And he scoops up some of the cum from his stomach and chest, feeding it into Eddie’s slack mouth.

Eddie sucks, swallowing and tasting salt, flooding his mouth with saliva, some slipping out down his chin. ‘’Teve.’ He pleads, garbled. Begging for permission. His eyes wide and wet, hips unable to stop.

‘You wanna cum baby?’ Steve asks, holding Eddie’s jaw with his spit slick fingers, fucking his own hips down onto Eddie’s cock.

Eddie nods, whining, digging his fingers into the sheets, trying not to think about what will happen if he comes too soon.

‘What are you baby? Are you my little freak, my little perv?’ Steve teases.

Eddie shivers, nodding, his whole body shaking in an attempt to stave off his orgasm. Shame writhing filthily in his gut, threatening to spill.

Steve pulls Eddie closer, kissing his cheek and letting him burrow his face in Steve’s neck. Eddie licks over his moles, wants to mark him, burrow his cock inside and never leave. ‘Thats it, my dumb thing, fucking me so good.’ Steve pets over Eddie’s hair as his hips speed up, thrusting into Steve harder, the sounds of skin slapping echoing through the house.

‘Cum for me.’ Steve whispers, hot breath sending shivers down his back. Eddie’s rhythm turning sloppy and desperate as he thrusts deep one last time. Cumming and crying out into Steve’s neck, tears slipping onto Steve’s skin and Eddie clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.

He cums for so long he’s almost numb, shaky and boneless as he falls on top of Steve.

Steve holds him close, threading his fingers through Eddie’s sweaty hair and whispering praise in his ear.

Eventually Eddie moves slightly from on top of Steve, letting his softening cock slip out and his head rest on Steve’s chest. Listening to his heart beat. ‘Good boy, you’re my good boy Eddie.’ Steve says softly, threading his fingers into Eddie’s curls to massage his scalp.

Eddie groans, boneless and satiated. ‘Was I too mean?’ Steve asks from above him.

‘Fuck no. Made me cum my whole brain out.’ Eddie slurs, pressing his forehead between Steve’s hairy pecs.

Steve tsks him, tugging at Eddie’s hair. The sharp pain making Eddie hiss and he sucks one of Steve’s nipples into his mouth, clamping down on top of him so he can’t wriggle away.

‘Okay, okay! Quit it, you monster.’ Steve laughs, shoving Eddie’s face off.

Eddie sits back in his heels, laughing, finally taking the condom off and tossing it onto the floor. ‘You want another shower before we head back to Wayne’s?’ He asks, petting distractedly at Steve’s pink hole, still shiny with lube.

‘Ye just gimme a sec.’ Steve says, stretching, making Eddie’s fingertip slip inside. ‘And quit playing with that, what are you, a perv?’ He asks, smirking up at him.

Eddie grins, lunging back on top of Steve and biting his shoulder.

Steve yelps and Eddie scoops him up, carrying him bridal style to the bathroom.

‘Oh! Stevie, remind me to put those polaroids in my wallet. I think I’ll get a lot of use out of ‘em.’ Eddie says, dumping Steve on the closed toilet and turning the shower on.

📸 📸 📸 📸 📸

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#longer one today #the doc for this used to be called 'bi freak wet and needy'#so had to keep the history #its finally done omg this has been on the back burner for SO long #i hope u enjoy 🥺#hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #my fic #<3

162 notes · View notes

ask-caine · 2 days

Note

ok ok what’s yours and moons love story. Beginning to end

OOC POST

It's a bit of a crazy story, actually!

We originally met online through TADC, when she messaged all the Caine accounts she could find for a shitpost "wedding" thing. We ended up hitting it off and talking about random things for a while. It started with my random fact about Kentucky marriage laws and how a couple used them to get married by cocaine bear (hence the below picture)

We ended up learning about a shared interest in plague doctors, as well as discussing several very random topics. Anyways, she invited all the Caines to a discord server, and I ended up being the only one who actually showed up. We would end up talking for hours upon hours day after day there. It was genuinely shocking how much we had in common.

At this point, I had been kinda been picking up on some of the flirtatious undertones behind some of the things she was saying, but I wasn't 100% sure about it yet and was still kinda testing the waters. I'd heard the term love at first sight, and looking back on it, that's pretty much what it felt like. I had been developing a crush on her up to this point, and I kept thinking about her as I was getting ready for bed. I had to keep stopping myself from falling head over heels, reminding myself we barely even knew each other and telling myself "no, she's just being nice. Don't be weird, there's nothing behind this, she's just being friendly."

...As it turned out, she wanted to be a little more than friends... Given my feelings up to this point, I was a little overwhelmed when she told me. I had to take a minute to collect my thoughts, to process everything (hence her jokes about me pulling a Caine and running away). But I liked her, too, and was willing to try a long-distance relationship. So, that's what we did.

It was only a few days after we first got together officially that I told her I loved her. It just felt right. Apparently I caught both of us off-guard with it, since she was sure that she'd be the one who would've said it first. ...We both dived in a little too headfirst from there. From my side of things, it was just so exciting and exhilerating to have this feeling I'd been searching for all my life, and I wanted more of it. We took a step back and both agreed to try and take things at a more reasonable pace from here on out.

We ended up learning a lot about each other. It was like we were the same person, split apart and put in two entirely different situations but turning out the same way anyway. ...This similarity became concerning when we realized we both had the same last name, as well as the fact that we both had Scottish ancestry. But, one family search check later, we confirmed that we are not, in fact, related. Just another insane coincidence that further proves that we were made for each other...

We shared a lot with each other. Our interests, hobbies, ideals, feelings on various topics. Our experiences throughout life, good and bad. The darkest parts of us. Every day, we grew closer. There was no denying that there was something special between us.

That isn't to say everything was perfect. We both still had a lot to learn about ourselves and about each other. There were ups and downs. Things were far from easy. There was a lot of avoidable pain both ways. As time went on, we started to become a little more distant...

Eventually, the stress of life and school and worries and everything going on got to be too much, and she called for us to take a break from the relationship. This hurt, of course... But, taking a break and being done are very different things. I was okay with taking a break, since we would still hang out and such sometimes, just not as romantically.

But, that still wasn't enough. Everything continued to be really stressful, and she felt like she wasn't a net positive in my life and was dragging me down (though the truth was exactly the opposite). So, she decided to fully end the relationship. Which... Really hurt me. Badly.

I kind of fell into a depressive state for a while. I had opened myself up like never before, let myself be more vulnerable than at any point in my life. I had finally found love, the one thing I'd truly wanted all my life, the only thing I've ever needed, and then it was just taken right away. The one thing I feared more than anything else in the world had come to pass.

We would still talk occasionally, but not like before. I already hurt so much, and just talking with her without being able to say the love I still felt was torture for me. So, I distanced myself a bit. I dealt with things on my own. I learned a lot about myself as I came to terms with how things had ended up.

Eventually, I started to feel a little more okay. I knew I could never stop loving her, so I decided to try and turn that love from romantic to platonic and still try to be a friend. Because while I may have lost her, she didn't want me out of her life completely. I could make do as just friends.

But, when I started to come back and we started to talk more again, she realized how much she had been missing me while we were apart. She figured out that some of the things she'd been feeling had been more than she'd realized. She learned that she actually was happier when we were together, and that she still really enjoyed being with me.

So, she began to give little hints again, like before. And, again, I picked up on them, but I didn't want to believe them 100% because of how much I'd been hurt last time. I told myself that she was just showing platonic love, the same way I was. Things would never be the same again. They couldn't be. If I was good for her before, she wouldn't have left...

It was actually Randy who got us actually talking again, first on our blogs, and then regarding what we were being sent. This eventually led to us talking just in general, about all sorts of things... Including what had happened between us. It was emotional, but we both came out of it feeling better about things.

That said, it took until this post before I realized she still loved me and that it was okay to love her back, the way I'd been holding in all this time. We had a heartfelt reunion, though we weren't officially dating again just yet. It still took me a while after that to fully accept everything and let down my guard again, after how much I was still hurting from last time...

But I didn't like the feeling of keeping her away. Of having a barrier between us. I desperately craved that deep, personal connection of love with her again. So, I opened my heart up again. And I'm so incredibly grateful that I did.

Soon after that point, Randy showed up and all those shenanigans ensued. But they only managed to get us talking more about things and uniting against it, which actually brought us even closer together. So, I guess if one good thing's come out of that dumpster fire of stress and stupidity, it's that.

Things have been absolutely wonderful since we got back together. We both learned a lot about ourselves in our time apart, and things have been much better between us. The rocky, uncertain road from before the break had smoothed over. And we fell so much deeper in love the second time.

Add in the stress of the past several weeks, with all the Tumblr drama with these blogs and the hiatus and everything (which I'm not getting into because you can see all that for yourself by looking through our blogs), and you're caught up to the present day. Life is still very stressful for us both, but a lot less so than when we first got together. We understand ourselves and each other so much better, which helps us make less mistakes and treat each other more tenderly and personally in the ways that we need most.

As for the future, immediately after finishing school, I plan to find work and save up to visit her in Canada sometime in the summer. After that is a little hazy at the moment, but we'll figure out our lives and put together a plan to find stable jobs and create a good life for ourselves up there.

And that's it, that's our story. From when we met all the way to the present day. You said beginning to end, but I'm afraid there is no end to our love. The story's still being written. Our lives are still being lived. I hope to be able to add to this years into the future, when we're living together and when we start our own family. But it might still take a while to reach that point.

#pdw x shy #ooc post #love story #lore dump #tadc ask blog #tadc bluetooth #bluetooth tadc #caine tadc #tadc caine #moon x caine #caine x moon #caine x the moon #the moon x caine #idk how to tag this #i hope this is good

101 notes · View notes

haetrack · 1 day

Text

[17:10]

warnings: renjun x afab!reader, pillow humping, slight scent kink, renjun gets caught

this is probably the most inconvenient thing renjun has ever done.

he’s currently getting himself off to the thought of you, his best friend, which is already inconvenient in itself. what’s worse, he’s humping his pillow pathetically while thinking about you, his hand not being enough anymore.

earlier, he had wrapped his fist around his aching cock, too horny to care about how he’d feel guilty afterwards. all the thoughts of you swirled in his mind over how touchy you seem to be around him. he wonders what you’d think if you saw him like this.

he’d push your hands away from him, push you away if you stared at him for too long. if he’d let you stare, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting into his head, imagining your teary eyes as he fucked you.

all this pent up frustration leads him to tonight, fist gliding along his dick as he whines out your name. he tries to excuse it by saying this will be the only time he'll do this. until his fist doesn’t feel like enough, thoughts of you under him taking up too much of his mind.

without rationally thinking, he moves the pillow he was laying against under him, an embarrassed frown on his face as he straddles it. his cock is twitching against his stomach in anticipation, waiting for him to grind down onto the fabric.

he leans forward a bit, his cock pressing against his pillow. at the first roll of his hips, he lets out a small whine at the feeling. it doesn’t take long for him to find a good rhythm, the feeling too good for him not to like.

he practically collapses on top of the pillow, arms giving out as pleasure consumes him. he rubs his face against it, pretending it’s your neck he’s nuzzling into. one of his hands grips on to the side of the pillow, imagining it’s the soft skin at your hips that he's holding.

he’s imagining fucking his cock into your cunt, thinking about how your walls would clench around him. his tip leaks precum against the fabric, causing an easier glide for him. it’s so humiliating getting off like this when he could easily ask you.

he’s getting close embarrassingly fast, his hips fucking into the pillow at the thought of you. maybe next time when you sleepover, he’ll let you have his pillow, letting you put all of your scent on it. he’d be surrounded by you next time he gets off, all without you knowing-

his thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating nearby. he lets out an annoyed groan, too preoccupied to talk to anyone. he lets it ring, but another call comes right after. he sighs, fully plopping down on the pillow, checking who could be calling him at the worst time.

it’s you. he decides to answer. what could you possibly need right now?

“hey, renjun.”

at the sound of your voice saying his name, he can’t help but let his hips grind down into the pillow. it’s not like you know what he’s doing. he shakily answers, “hey, um, how are you?”

you want to laugh at how off he sounds. he's out of breath, his voice is shaky, and you swear you hear him roll around in bed. "doing fine. how are you? it sounds like you just finished running or something."

renjun immediately sits up straight. no way he's been caught that fast. "no, i just- i wasn't doing anything."

his voice is laced with something you can't quite place yet. he sounds cute though, reminding you of all the times you tease him. his cheeks would always go pink before he would push you away. for the sake of your friendship, you would always try to ignore it.

except now, it's just the two of you on a call. he's all yours right now, and you don't intend to stop teasing him. you sigh, "hm, i think you're lying, but it's fine. i just got home from class and i was bored."

"you were bored so you called me?" you can hear him huff on the other side of the call.

"yeah, wanted to call my favorite person," you laugh. a groan let out by renjun is followed right after, slightly muffled by something. you badly want to ask what he was doing, but that would be too easy. you'll play the long game.

"it's not like i have anything to do. i was super tired today, all i wanted to do was talk to you."

renjun is quiet on the other end. he doesn't mean to, but his hips start moving against the pillow again. he hates how easy it is for him to lose himself when it comes to you. he's trying to be subtle about it, slow grinds into his pillow and his hand covering his mouth as you talk about your day.

he feels a little like a pervert doing this, but it's not his fault he got interrupted. if someone else would have called him, it would've ruined it for him and he would've had to stop. but it was you who called him, and he can't help think about how nice your voice sounds to him right now.

maybe another time, you could help guide him, telling him to fuck his pillow like a loser. a small groan escapes his mouth at the thought, and he hears your voice stop. he should be scared, worried at what you might think, but your reaction just brings him closer to cumming.

"renjun?" you call out to him and he's trying hard to stifle his noises.

“mhm? sorry, i zoned out near the end.”

he’s being way too quiet for you. he still sounds out of breath, and put your ear the speaker of your phone. there’s huffs of breaths renjun is letting out and rustling noises coming from his end. what is he doing?

you don’t know what else to do but to joke around, “you’re not, like, jerking off or anything, right?”

and suddenly, the call is quiet. there’s no more hushed breaths or rustling, but complete silence on his end of the call. you feel a little shocked, because there’s no way he’s actually getting off, right? right?

“renjun, answer me.”

“n-no, i’m just laying down, i d-don’t-”

you don’t know what comes over you, “are you sure? should i come over and check for myself?”

“n-no!” renjun practically yells into the phone. despite his words, his hips begin grinding into the pillow again. why he loses all his composure around you? he’s not sure.

“hm, sorry about that. i guess it would be weird if your best friend asked if you were getting off on a call.” you raise the volume of your phone, hearing the hushed whines renjun lets out.

he’s definitely lying.

if renjun had the courage, he’d tell you to come over. he’d pin you down to his bed like how he has his pillow, driving his cock into you as you apologize for teasing him so much. he’d be surrounded by your scent, his lips pressing kisses to the skin of your neck.

the thought brings him close, and renjun realizes he’s quickly losing the battle of trying to hold off. he’s letting out small whines muffled into his pillow, his tip leaking all over his pillow as he picks up his pace. he doesn’t even realize that you stopped talking.

when he’s about to cum, he lets out a whine higher than he means it to be, his fingers trying to quickly mute his phone. before he can, you ask, “are you gonna cum, renjun? gonna cum for me?”

a moan of your name slips out of him as his hips stutter against the pillow, cum spurting out of his tip as it stains the fabric. he can imagine your walls clenching around him, the sound of your voice moaning his name as you cum around him.

you can feel yourself throbbing, having to cross your legs together to try to stifle the need building up in you. you’re not sure if he’s aware of how loud he’s being, whines and moans taking up all the call. you burn them into your memory, trying to imagine just how good he looks right now.

when he comes down from his high, you can hear him let out an embarrassed groan. you laugh at him as he tries to shush you. “didn’t know you could get so horny,” he can imagine the grin on your face, “why did you even answer the call if you were getting off?”

“you called me twice,” he huffs, “what if you were in an emergency?”

“think it would be very unfortunate if i told you that i was in danger while you had your hand wrapped around your dick.”

“i wasn’t doing that!”

you make a confused noise, “but weren’t you jerking off?”

renjun realizes he’s made this worse for himself. he can't just tell you he was using a pillow to get off. he isn't even supposed to tell anyone that he was getting off, let alone his best friend. he tries brushing it off, "why do you even want to know? you're literally crazy."

you're silent on the other end, and he assumes it's probably best to hang up. he ends the call, letting his phone fall in front of him as he lets out an embarrassed sigh. how did that even happen? you probably won't ever like him back now.

except, his phone starts vibrating again. when he goes to pick it up, it's an incoming facetime call from you. he stares at himself through the phone, his pink cheeks on display as he reluctantly answers. he's greeted with the image of you, looking a little too desperate as you stare at renjun.

you shift up to show more of yourself to renjun, "i wanna- i wanna see what you were doing. i'll show you how i get off, i just- just need to see you."

how is he supposed to say no when he sees you squirming in your spot? he props his phone up, a slightly humiliated look on his face as he shows you the pillow he was grinding against. he sees a smile form on your face, watches how your eyes widen at the sight.

it's not fair that he's doing this alone. "i need to see you, fuck- need to see you so bad. i'm like this because of you."

and like you always do, you tease him with that pretty smile on your face, "show me."

taglist: @hamji-hae

#nct smut #nct dream smut #renjun smut #renjun x reader #renjun scenarios

127 notes · View notes

steventhusiast · 2 days

Text

STWG prompt 17/4/24

prompt: "oops, that wasn't the plan"

pairing/character(s): steddie

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Steve's in the middle of squinting as he scans a library shelf for the textbook he needs when he gets rudely interrupted. A body crashes into him with nearly enough force to knock him over, and he only just manages to catch himself on the library shelves in front of him (with only a few casualties in the form of fallen books).

"Oops!" He hears from right behind him, way too loud for where they are. Sure, they're not in the silent study area, but it's still a library. Sudden noises are pretty noticeable.

Once he's recovered, he looks around the university library to see a few people's unimpressed eyes looking in his direction from their study desks. He feels heat rise from his chest to his cheeks at their attention, and suddenly flustered anger is coursing through him, because-

"What the hell?" He whisper yells, spinning around to face whoever had bumped into him.

He's about to start whisper yelling some more at whoever caused this, but then he sees who's stood in front of him, and- shit. He's hot.

Bright red, and with black curly hair up in a messy ponytail stands a guy around his height, with an expression Steve can only describe as mortification on his face. He's dressed in the student go-to late-night library session attire (university branded hoodie, sweatpants and shoes that are somewhere between slippers and clogs), and he's clutching something in one hand as he stares wide-eyed at Steve.

They stare at each other for a moment, and just as Steve's starting to get a little uncomfortable with it and opens his mouth to, once again, ask what the hell, the guy opens his own mouth and rushes out some hushed words.

"That wasn't the plan, I swear." He says nonsensically, and Steve just frowns at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm doing this all wrong." The guy mutters to himself, and suddenly crouches down to pick up the books that had fallen off the shelf.

He seems to use the time facing the ground to collect himself, because once he's stood upright again with the pile of books held in front of him he offers Steve a shy smile.

"My name's Eddie, and you are, just... so attractive and I've been wanting to come and talk to you for, like, an hour, and maybe give you my number? But then, I'm a total clutz, so- so I tripped and almost knocked you over instead. I am so sorry about that, by the way." His nerves seem to come back as he talks, because Steve notices his fingers tap anxiously at the bottom of the book-pile.

Steve's a little stunned by the onslaught of words, and must take too long to respond because Eddie winces after a moment and shakes his head as he averts his eyes.

"This was stupid. I'm so sorry for interrupting your night, you're probably cramming for a test or something." Eddie offers him a wounded smile this time, glancing at his face again, and then makes to turn and walk away.

"Wait- no. You can- um. I would love your number. Sorry, you caught me off guard." Steve says quietly, and Eddie stops moving, eyes going wide again. God, his eyes remind Steve of Bambi.

Steve takes a deep breath and tries to find the charisma he swears he usually has when he's not ambushed with an unexpected hot man.

"I mean, how else will I know how to contact you when I sue you for damages?"

He says it with a smile and a teasing eyebrow raise, but Eddie looks panicked at the words, like that's somehow something he's genuinely worried about, so Steve raises the hand he'd caught himself on the shelves with to show off the slightly reddened base of his palm.

"I'm mortally injured over here, I hope you have good insurance."

Finally, Eddie huffs out a surprised laugh, and the smile stays on his face once he quietens. It's a very pretty smile, much better than the nervous one he was wearing before.

"Right. Well, luckily for you I have my contact details ready to go for situations like this." He says, and (with a little fumbling to reposition the books he's holding) offers Steve an incredibly crumpled up piece of paper.

Steve unfolds it to find a phone number scrawled out, with a ridiculous drawing of a stick figure holding a landline and a speech bubble saying 'call me!'. He carefully folds up the piece of paper, pointedly pockets it, and offers Eddie another smile.

"Thanks, I will for sure be calling later. I just- I am cramming for a test, you were right. So..." He trails off, a little unsure and awkward again.

Eddie just nods, still grinning, and makes to turn around again.

"I'm looking forward to it." He says, and then walks off, ridiculous tower of books still in his hands. Steve watches him go, and then takes a deep breath and looks back at the shelf.

How the fuck is he going to focus on studying now?

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #they're both cringefail losers in this #affectionately #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting

109 notes · View notes

wangxianficrecs · 3 days

Text

💙 Caught in 4k by KizuKatana

🔒💙 Caught in 4k

by KizuKatana (@kizukatana)

E, Series, WIP, 184k, Wangxian

Summary: A night-hunt goes wrong, and Wei Wuxian is scapegoated for the death of the Jiang Sect Leader and the destroyed core of the Jiang Sect Heir. As punishment, his core is taken and given to Jiang Cheng, and he is stripped of his cultivation credentials and expelled from the sect. What everyone forgot was that Wei Wuxian was wearing the standard issue body camera that each cultivator wore on training missions and high-risk night-hunts. Struggling to make ends meet, Wei Wuxian finds his way to Caiyi Town with the doctor who performed the surgery, a partial core still secretly in place. His application to work at Cloud Recesses is summarily rejected by the hard-edged Second Jade of Lan after an unfortunate initial encounter. But things change when someone hacks into the Jiang systems and releases the footage of what happened. Kay's comments: The series is still a WIP, but the main story is complete! I am so weak for Kizu's modern AUs with cultivation, they are great. Especially the world building and how the cultivation society might function in a modern AU shines in this story. Definitely not a story for fans of the Jiang family, but a story for everyone who wants to see some retribution for the things Wei Wuxian went through. Here, Jiang Fengmian dies during a night-hunt accident where Jiang Cheng's golden core gets destroyed and Madam Yu makes Wei Wuxian give his golden core to him, unfortunately for her, his body-cam is still filming everything. Wei Wuxian finds himself taken in by Wen Qing and her family and we get the sweetest found family and Dadxian vibes here and then meets Lan Wangji as well, who's highly judgemental at first but soon finds himself drawn to Wei Wuxian as well. This story really got it all, the drama, the horny, the softness, the restitution & humor. Excerpt: Still Wei Wuxian forced himself to at least try one last time. “You could also interview me. Have me talk to your best talisman experts,” Wei Wuxian said, forcing himself to keep the desperation out of his voice. “Interviews are scheduled based on receipt of proper credentials and references.” “I don’t have any, at least not right now. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be a great teacher.” “No references, no interview.” “Come on. Look, ask me anything about talismans. You’re an experienced cultivator, right? So you must know enough to at least interview me to see if I know what I’m talking about.” “Simply ‘knowing about something’ is not sufficient. Our lecturers are renown cultivators, and masters in their fields. No references, no interview.” Wei Wuxian felt frustration well up in him, especially at the reminder that Lan Wangji didn’t see him as a cultivator. No one would, in his current condition. Why would they? He didn’t have a functional core, which was the main scale against which all cultivation efforts were measured. He thought he had done a good job of not getting his hopes up about the teaching position, but the suffocating feeling constricting his chest was calling him out for being a liar. He should have known better. Why did he never learn? Some people had luck on their said, but Wei Wuxian had never been one of them. “Right. Of course. Because it would be impossible for someone who wasn’t born to the fucking clan nobility to ever actually be good at something, and the cost of taking the mastery test makes sure that other people can’t do it!” Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, like he might say something, but his expression was as opaque and emotionless as before. Wei Wuxian didn’t need to sit around and listen to him defend the clan system. “Good to know that the Lan are just the same as all the other sects,” Wei Wuxian continued, his lips twisting into a sarcastic smile. “Thanks for making that clear.”

pov alternating, modern setting, modern with magic, yu ziyuan being an asshole, dysfunctional jiang family, jiang family bashing, canon divergence, golden core reveal, burial mounds ensemble as family, golden core transfer, golden core transfer fix-it, top lan wangji/bottom wei wuxian, dual cultivation, strangers to lovers, misunderstandings, meet ugly, families of choice, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

102 notes · View notes

bobluvbot · 1 day

Text

birthday blues

pairing: sirius black x f!reader summary: first time godfather sirius goes shopping to find the perfect first birthday gift (jily + baby harry ♥️) wc: 5k a/n: me tryna heal canon trauma ❤️ because in my world everyone lives happily ever after !!! my lil celebration piece for hitting 200 followers! thank u all <3 not proofread, english is not my first language so plz be nice heheh

“What’s the store called again, sweets?”

even as a young kid, one of your biggest pet peeves is repeating yourself for more than four times. three is pushing it. your parents told you its a bad habit to take to adulthood because you’re bound to meet people who just don’t get what you’re saying the first or second time around. But one Wednesday morning, when you asked from upstairs where your favorite periwinkle socks were and your parents downstairs said something that the loud dishwasher and vacuum covered up, you asked them to repeat it again (still can’t hear), and again when you moved closer to the staircase down (barely heard any), then you heard your father’s heavy footsteps up, personally shoving in your waiting hand the said pair of socks.. only damp. “Honey, I said three times already, that they were still in the dryer,” your dad had huffed before heading back downstairs. That’s when you knew it was genetic.

But, you love Sirius Black. It’s gotten to the point where in the honest, sensitive hours past midnight, while there was nothing much to do as you let sleep creep up from your tired limbs to your fluttering eyelids, but to watch peace settle on the raven-haired boy’s sharp features, ethereal and glowing like an angel even in the dark of the night; that you realize he may be the love of your life. It’s a scary thought, with fears of being too eager, too soon, too much—- so you tuck it in a little pocket and give it a nudge when you need a reminder of how big and true its growing with each second spent together.

You love him, so you breathe out the snarky irritation away in slow heavy puffs and inhale peace, choosing to exercise patience because you know Sirius is nervous.

“It’s Spintwitches Sporting Needs, love. ‘s right across Ollivanders if I’m not mistaken,” you say, taking his free hand in yours and rubbing small circles on his knuckles to calm some of his nerves down, while he drives through busy muggle London streets to park by the Leaky Cauldron. He throws you a soft smile and gives your hand a quick squeeze as thanks, grateful to the heavens that you’re here to keep him from going insane.

You know him enough that, while the day in question is not about him, or you, or your relationship, it meant a great deal to Sirius.

He had one chance (even if you’d argue otherwise) to make things right, do things the right way the first time around with Harry. James knew this fact by heart, which is why he and Lily agreed in a heartbeat that Sirius should be little Harry’s godfather, as it was meant to be. He would do anything, go beyond means, hell, even against Merlin himself just to ensure the safety and happiness of his godson.

No one, however, was expecting it to backfire and it caught you and Sirius off guard. Once the tears dried and elation diffused, the anxiety kicked in for Sirius, and in turn you. He knew what the opposite was, parents who robbed their own sons of happy childhoods and disowned him when he got brave enough to find happiness and protect it, he had lived it. And now that he has a chance to save an innocent soul from a similar fate, he was determined, but this fact scared him shitless.

He wanted everything to be perfect (who wouldn’t?) and gave everything he physically could to make James and Lily’s Harry’s life easy and happy. Seeing Sirius buy ‘How to Dad?’ books and pour over them at night or on his free time at work was undoubtedly an attractive and loving sight. In a span of a week, he knew which is the best formula to supplement with breastfeeding, toys to pick that stimulate early brain development, even clothes made with hypoallergenic materials that won’t irritate the sensitive newborn skin. It came to a point where James would ask him for advice when Lily’s at work, and Sirius would put on his trusty reading glasses and point at a specific passage of ‘How to Dad?’ that answers James’ question perfectly.

Eventually, you did have to put your foot down when you found Sirius writing a howler to a baby food company when rumors started going around that their baby snack puffs (which Harry was obsessed with) had harmful chemicals in it. In typical Sirius fashion, he wasn’t convinced that easily. You’d bet that what pushed him off the howler letter route (and in turn protect the statute of wizarding secrecy) was seeing you spend lots of time in the kitchen to perfect making banana and strawberry baby snack puffs from scratch until the recall was over and the food was deemed safe to be consumed again by experts and Sirius himself.

Hearing many iterations of how the newborn days and months go by so fast was difficult to believe at times, especially when you and Sirius were babysitting to let the exhausted parents get some sort of reprieve multiple times a month. It was almost always the same. Harry would sleep for four hours straight during the night, and almost hourly right after; and while you and sirius had gotten pretty good at dividing up the tasks like bottle feeding and nappy changes equally, the shrill cry of a hungry baby is difficult to ignore and sleep through.

So despite of Sirius’s best efforts to crawl out of bed and tip-toe to the bassinet quietly not to wake your sleeping form, he gets sad but unsurprised to see you pad towards him and the baby, yawning soundlessly as you squeeze yourself between the soft armrest and Sirius’s side, head resting on his shoulder. It was his idea to get a spacious, soft recliner in the bedroom and it came in handy for situations like these, where getting back to bed once Harry sleeps is too risky as the boy would just wake up with the slightest movement, so the next best option was to try getting rest wherever you ended up in. The cries that once overpowered Sirius’s hushed whispers and cooing finally quiets down. A sigh of relief leaves both your lips, basking in the comfortable silence and bodies finding solace in each other’s warmth.

You want to say so many things to your lovely boyfriend, things he just has to hear: that he’s doing such a great job, that you see him and all the extra steps he has to take to become and do better than what he was raised for, that you love him for every single bit of it— but the right words don’t come easy when sleep-deprived and exhausted at 4:25am in the morning. So you lift your lips up to meet his temple, the side of his mouth, then his lips; hoping it’d convey what words couldn’t at the moment.

But time is an experienced thief. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May and it was warm enough for you to whip out the frilly spring dresses that had been pushed to the back of your closet by the thick woolen coats from colder months. The boys had gone on a day trip to help Peter move into his first solo apartment, assembling furniture and stocking up on necessities to ensure he could survive on his own. Without the booming voices and bumbling energy of his father and godfather, little Harry had no choice but to match the calm and peaceful ambiance that you and Lily curated inside the Potter house. While it’s certainly different from what his everyday looks like (living with the likes of James), he seems to enjoy it. Gentle breeze from the windows Lily left open while she baked carry the smell of lemons and vanilla throughout the entire house, making it smell heavenly. You’d been sat on the floor by the dining table, surrounded by toy trains and colorful blocks, watching the ten-month-old munch on a toy graphorn adoringly. Recently, he’s been on a phase where he has to run anything he could get his hands on with his mouth. Some secret test or screening must be up there or something because that’s how Harry decides which toys are deserving of his attention for the day.

You’d picked up a toy set of magical creatures after work yesterday, and it won the almost toddler’s attention for the whole day. James had to snatch the toy niffler away from Harry’s grasp so he could say goodbye to his son and ask for a kiss. Safe to say there were no kisses exchanged because the little boy was too busy wailing and screaming at his father’s face. Lily had to create physical distance between her two boys so the younger one can calm down while the older got mopey. Sirius had to whisk his best friend away from the scene of the crime so that they can get on with the day, but not without leaving you a kiss.

The said niffler had soon been replaced with the hippogriff, then now the graphorn, and it’s been sitting on your lap since. Harry suddenly pulls the toy graphorn out of his mouth with a resounding pop. You both share a second or two of shocked eye contact and silence, his bright green eyes wide with surprise, before triggering a belly flipping laughing fit. This child could shock himself with a sudden burp or an unexpected sound of hitting random things with a fork, and you’d laugh every single time like its the funniest cutest thing you’ve seen in your life. It’s likewise for the rest of the marauders. Being the first baby of the group had all the adults wrapped in his pudgy fingers and he has no idea.

Harry’s eyes drop from your smiling face to the Niffler on your lap, and makes grabby hands. You almost, almost give in, but you decide to encourage him to go get it himself. Maybe today’s the day he starts to walk. You move to him a bit closer, probably a good seven baby steps in between.

“You want the Niffler, bud? You have to go get it from me!” You make a show out of grabbing the toy from your lap multiple times, hoping it’d make sense to the little boy.

He whines something sounding like your name and does more impatient grabby hands. But you weren’t giving up without a fight. “C’mon, Haz! You can do it,” you say enthusiastically.

Harry did know how to stand and good thing you were both sat near the dining table chairs, so to alleviate some of your aunt guilt you tuck the niffler away and out of Harry’s reach, before helping him up to his feet and urging him to grab one of the chair legs for support.

He stays upright, eyes still on the toy that you place again on your lap as you return to your original spot, and you clap with glee. “Great job, buddy! Okay, only a few steps to me and you’ll get the toy!”

Lily, curious to see the commotion happening on her kitchen floor, leans against the counter for a better view. Harry sees this and does the same thing, he looks at her pleadingly while making grabby hands and pointing to the niffler on your lap. You can tell the redhead’s fighting the mom urge to make her child’s life easier, but thank the heavens when she gives your same answer. She even moves to kneel beside you, waving to get her son’s attention and pointing at the niffler on your lap.

“C’mon, my sweet boy,” Lily says. “Mama knows you can do it!”

Motivated by frustration as his aunt and own mother won’t just hand him his goddamn toy, Harry whines angrily but makes a sideways step closer, death grip still on one of the chair legs. You and Lily squeal and clap in delight, urging the boy to do it again.

He makes a move for another step, but realizes that there’s no more legs to grab onto. Reluctantly, his right hand lets go and in turn faces you and Lily. This results in another round of applause, which serves like a drug to these little babies.

An anxious expression fleetingly appears on his face as he looks to you both, but the encouragement and cooing seemed to scare those big feelings away. Determined, Harry makes an unsure step forward without support, which then makes both yours and Lily’s heartbeat jump. It all happened so quick, the fear of losing balance triggered Harry’s other leg catch him on impulse, then the same on the other leg, then the other. Harry’d made four successful steps on his own before his mom catches him in her embrace before he topples over to the floor.

You and Lily were a sobbing, exultant mess. Harry, clearly confused about the commotion, whines for the niffler while Lily kisses him all over his face. You hand it to his waiting palms like a trophy before ruffling his unruly hair. An attempt for words has been made, but all that came from your mouth are garbled phrases about the miracle that just happened. Lily nods in agreement and you hug them both back.

This ten-month old just walked. This is the same baby that kept you and Sirius up at night for his feedings. The same baby responsible for the drool and spit up marks on your shirts. The same baby that laughs and babbles with you like he understands when you tell him random stories. The same baby that squeals in delight when you blow raspberries on his belly.

It felt like he had just been born a few days ago, memories of changing hundreds of nappies and preparing bottles of milk still vivid in your mind. But it’s earth shattering to consider that he’s closer to being a one year old than to the little bundle handed to you by James in the hospital room.

Time is unrelenting, stealing mundane moments behind your back and when you realize the loss, poof! The newborn you held in your arms is now a walking toddler. Soon, he’ll be the one talking your ears off, going to Hogwarts, driving a car.. You shiver at the thought. He was growing up so fast that blinking felt like cheating, afraid that you’ll miss a precious moment that you’ll never get back.

His first birthday came in the same manner— too fast for both yours and Sirius’s liking, but the wistful feelings came with excitement as Harry being a toddler opened up lots more opportunities to play and discover the world around him. James and Lily had spent the whole month planning a big birthday bash to celebrate the kiddo’s life, inviting all their loved ones to share the special day with them. And with that, the pressure was on for Sirius, as the self-proclaimed best godfather to get the perfect first birthday gift.

It’s like the heavens knew it was a special day for you both that it made sure to put out the best shopping weather one could ever ask for—- not too warm or too cold. It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant the adults were kept in workplaces and children sent to Hogwarts or in homeschooling, leaving Diagon Alley nearly deserted, minus the occasional stray shoppers entering and leaving shops here and there. Clad in color coordinated couples outfits (that was your thing recently, Sirius more than happy to oblige) and hand in hand, you begin the mission to locate Spintwitches Sporting Needs.

Nostalgia always finds a way to seep into your bones whenever you find yourself in Diagon Alley. One blink and suddenly you’re ten again, both hands tucked in each parent’s as your mom pours over the list of school supplies you’ll need again for your first year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius see Ollivanders at a short distance and hear the entrance bell chime, the very same sound you heard when entering the shop for the first time, the shopkeeper taking one good look at you before immediately rummaging around the store, grabbing a specific box located on a random shelf four stories up. The look of confidence when he says it’s made just for you, a magical glow enveloping your tiny frame while opening the magenta box. That same magic guided you to a world where you truly belonged in, a castle that felt so much like home, and friends that soon became found family and lifelong partners. The thought of Harry soon experiencing these moments leaves a giddy feeling in your chest.

The smoky sweet scent of freshly roasted chestnuts catches your attention and you discreetly look for the source of your favorite warm snack. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sirius (hardly nothing ever does, even the things you wish he’d miss or forget), and he gives your hand a small tug. You try to be aloof as you return his waiting gaze, complete with a quirk of your eyebrow, to which he responds with an impish smirk towards your bad acting.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that look, sweets.” The amusement in his voice is palpable as he steers you away from the main walkway and towards the small chestnut stall tucked in an alleyway, almost hidden by the bigger shops surrounding it.

“But, the store’s right there, Siri,” you try to protest. He had been anxious and stressed out about this day in particular, you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d be beelining to the store as soon as you get off the car. But he just shakes his head like its the obvious choice and nods towards the cart. “Can’t have my girl hungry now.”

After a failed attempt of trying to pay for the warm brown bag (you were no match for Sirius’s lithe, agile fingers in basically everything), you accept it with a sigh, giving yourself a few seconds to sulk before starting on the chestnuts. You weren’t the best at accepting things from other people just because, it always felt like you had to do something in return for them just to deserve it. Maybe that’s why the universe conspired to have you meet and fall for Sirius, who is a very enthusiastic giver, teaching you hard lessons on the daily.

As you begin the journey back to the shop, you carefully crack open one and hold it up to Sirius’s mouth, to which he happily obliged. “Mm, somehow chestnuts taste better when you handfeed me, dove. Do it again.”

You roll your eyes in response, but you find your fingers starting to peel another. “You’re lucky you’re good looking, Black,” you mutter to save some face, that you weren’t head over heels for this man and he to you. That’s a conversation to be had in another, less stressful day.

The shop, painted electric blue and orange, wasn’t hard to miss. One step in and the welcoming aroma of broom polish, rubber, and smoky wood brings you right back to the Quidditch locker rooms; memories of frantically lacing up your boots a minute or two after James called you as backup for an injured beater, helping Marlene comb out the tail end to fix the broom alignment after practice, and getting pinned to the cool lockers during post-win celebratory makeout sessions with Sirius, replaying vividly in your head.

It looked deceivingly small on the outside; aside from the expansive selection of different broomstick models, they had books and magazines about Quidditch strategies and featured famous matches, repair and maintenance kits for maintaining broomstick qualities, complete Quidditch gear for all shapes and sizes, and tiny practice snitches flying around the room. Squint and it’ll just be like how each Hogwarts common room would be decorated when there’s a big Quidditch match between houses or international ones in the world cup: streamers and accessories like horns and banners representing each team, posters of Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies (in opposing corners to prevent unsolicited fights) accompanied by autographs of famous players and collectibles littering almost every surface of the walls. It was Quidditch dreamland.

Still in awe admiring the displays as you both walk through aisles hand in hand, Sirius breaks the silence first. “What do you think Harry will play as in Quidditch?”

You hum in response and he continues, running his hands through the bat display they had for little kids. “I bet he’d be a beater like me. You remember how that punk hit me straight on the face last week?”

You nod in amusement. Sirius had played it cool as he gently laid Harry back in his playpen, still laughing and cooing, then as soon as little Harry turned his back on his uncle, Sirius ran to you for first aid and whined the whole time you were healing the already forming bruise. But not a few hours later, he’s bouncing the baby in his arms again as he gave him a tour of the backyard.

“Yeah, those little fists definitely pack a punch.”

“How about you, love?”

Sifting through a year’s worth of memories, it was surprisingly easy to find your answer. “I think he’ll follow James’s footsteps and be a seeker.”

Sirius’s pout becomes evident, making you giggle and tug on his arm in efforts to cheer him up. “Think about it. Ever since prongslet got those glasses, it’s harder to hide anything from him now because his eyes are so quick. Poor Crookshanks too, that cat can’t catch a break now when Haz wants to play because he tracks its movements.”

Sirius lets out a soft chuckle and slings his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer. “Good point, good point,” he repeats, seemingly deep in thought as his fingers run up and down the small of your arm. “We shall see, whatever he decides to play as, or if he even plays at all, I’ll be proud of him.”

You look up to him as he absentmindedly stares at the Quidditch gear sets for little kids, a light, wistful smile on his handsome features. He might not say it out loud, but the love he has for his godson reverberates through his being, and its a warming sight to see.

Before you confess your love for your boyfriend in the middle of a Quidditch store, you whisk him away and towards the toy broom display, the only thing you were both here for. Only the big bright signs directed you to the right place, which didn’t prepare you at all for the heart exploding sight.

You’re about to burst into tears seeing how cute and tiny the little toy brooms were, and how they came in complete with tiny versions of the headlights, seats, and bag compartments the usual adult broom comes with. Both you and Sirius stood with mouths agape for a solid minute as you took in the expansive display, before your lovely boyfriend proceeds to pick out the most expensive one with the most features on it from the batch.

Surprisingly, it was you who reminded him to grab a helmet before running off to purchase the toy broom, the giddiness and excitement spreading between the two of you. The cashier gives both of you a knowing look as you and Sirius both mellowed down from full giggles to bashful smiles, examines the broom to be purchased, and asks, “For your little one?”

Now, you were no stranger to conversations like these with former lovers in the past, and you could almost hear the typical response of denial that comes swiftly with the question. It used to hurt, even if you knew by heart that that person didn’t have the fifth date potential or that it just wouldn’t last. It’s that unexplainable feeling of shame and rejection when they’d realize that it won’t work with you before you would, or if they answer with a laugh, as if having a future with you is an appalling thought. You’ve gotten better with it throughout the years, but for some reason your skin crawls with the thought of Sirius saying the same things. Years of desensitization down the drain, you find yourself bearing your entire soul to the man beside you the entire relationship, and he can easily break you into two with his response. You cross your fingers that he won’t.

He was already looking when your gaze met his, a look of softness and tenderness from him so profound you wondered if you were deserving of it. The surge of butterflies in your belly was all consuming.

Sirius shifts uneasily and shakes his head, you prepare for the worst. “For our nephew, not for our own child..,” he pauses, glancing back at you for a quick second. “Yet. But if all goes according to my sneaky plan, we might be back sooner than she thinks.”

The cashier chuckles at your stunned reaction as you shift your focus between him and your boyfriend who was both furiously blushing and actively avoiding your stare. Did you just get a marriage proposal?

Taking advantage of your confusion, Sirius pays for everything including the gift wrapping, which you had previously argued about who was responsible paying (you won, not that that matters now). You let him tug your arm and guide you out of the store, saying a quick thank you to the amused cashier. The influx of butterflies were back, tickling your insides and spreading warmth in each crevice. Just seeing Sirius handle the rambunctious mini James with care and glee, makes it so easy for you to imagine a life with him, and eventually have a little bean that’s equal parts of you and him. You hope they’d get the best parts of both.

No one brings it up as you began your journey back to the car and you’re grateful. Gift bag swinging on your arm, you drag Sirius to go get ice cream to which he happily obliges.

A gentle quiet settles on accomplished shoulders like a warm blanket as you settle in the car. Strawberry and vanilla fudge ice cream sticky sweet on each other’s lips as you exchange cones every once in a while. It would be enough to lull you to sleep, if not for Sirius’s deep breaths and sighs, the thundering of his heart that he tries to quell by discreetly scratching a small part of the steering wheel where his thumb usually lay.

He breaks the silence first, an uneasy tone making his voice seem small. “Do you think he’ll like it, dove?”

“Yes, Siri. I know he’ll love it.” You try your best to enunciate the right words, but a conflicted expression marrs his handsome features, sending a twinge to your heart.

It comes to you before he speaks. This was something that had been plaguing Sirius’s mind for a while, occupying his dreams and thoughts, embedding itself to his mind and causing unwarranted amounts of stress. You resist the urge to fill in the blanks for him because it has to come from him and him only.

But after everything he’s been through, what seems easy for most sometimes is the hardest to muster. “Siri,” you pause, waiting until he looks up at you and you keep his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His gray orbs still before the dam breaks. “I’m sorry, love.” He chokes. “If I’m being so difficult, irky, irritated, anxious, everything.”

Hot tears run down his cheeks and it’s a painful watch. wanting nothing but to wipe it off and tuck him in your embrace and promise him he won’t be hurt as long as you’re there, but you can’t. The best thing you could do for him is to let it all out and finally feel.

He stares ahead on the city road with fingers trembling on the wheel. “I’m just so scared. So scared. James and Lily have been amazing parents, I can’t say same thing for myself but I try my best. Sometimes I still feel like he deserves someone better to be his godfather,” he sobs. “I just love him so much. I want only the best for him. I just want him to be happy and healthy all the time.”

After a while, you say with a bittersweet tone. “You know we can’t promise that, Siri,” you sigh. “Storms will come and will do damage and hurt and things that we can’t undo,” you pause, sniffling as you take your right hand to guide him to face you again, vulnerable gray eyes meeting yours. “But you know what?”

You give him an assuring smile, speaking the truth. “He’s gonna be alright because little as he is right now, he is so loved and adored by so many people, so loved by his parents. And so loved by his godfather.”

It wasn’t said aloud, it doesn’t need to. Loud as it could be, Sirius knows what you’re about to say; that his ability to love despite of everything he’s been through, despite of his own family ruthlessly trying to rob him of the ability to do so. That’s the type of love that Sirius gives, a love that withstands rain and abandonment; a love that stays after a rough storm, offering a home always open to go to when times are rough and feelings are still hurt; a love that tells the truth even when its hardest to hear.

You know all this as an easy fact because you’re at the receiving end. Even if you hadn’t heard it from his lips yet.

“Have I told you I love you?”

A watery smile spreads on your face as you shake your head. “No, but i feel it everyday.”

“I love you, Y/N.” It leaves his lips like breaths, naturally and easily.

It’s the same thing for you, too. “I love you too, Siri.”

And it ends with sticky kisses that taste of vanilla fudge and berries.

64 notes · View notes

willyoubemycherryy · 13 hours

Text

❦𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐!! _𝙱𝚎𝚝-. . 𝚢𝚘-𝚞_ 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍-__𝚞𝚜?-. 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕-_𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?.-. 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢-//?!

𝐼𝑡’𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤😂💕𝑇𝑜𝑝 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @eymie @b1mb0slvt @luvlydeja @taylormarieee @missusnora @eleanorbaybars

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜❥ 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚘 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚝, 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗-𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘, 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎̨𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝, 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗

“𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅...“

࣪✧. 🜸°. ໒꒱✧. • 𐙚˙⋆.˚.

Don’t let men with recovering orbital fractures finger you in their bed while hospitalized.

If that was ever a rule, spoken or unspoken, boy would they be pissed at you now.

“Wider, bunny. You wanna help me get better right?” Bucky cooed into your ear from where his chest was plastered to your back.

Choking down your moan almost guiltily because you really did want him to feel better, it was one of the things you told him when you’d first seen him after he had finally got back from that awful camp. You had gotten a call (the quickest one of your life) that they had taken him to the hospital immediately, to check the extent of all possible injuries, watch for any possibly contracted diseases, etc.

It was day 3 of him being in there but he’d been misbehaving restless since you’d arrived.

You shouldn’t be too cross with him because he couldn’t help it.

John missed you so much that when he finally got back on familiar ground, what ran through his thoughts was mostly you and then just 2 hours later, you were there. Filling his senses with your sweet scent, filling his hands with the softness of your curves as your lovely voice filled his head. Christ, how he missed you. All of you.

However, his body’s reaction to you after being depraved of you for so long was…intense. To say the least.

While you were worried after his health and overjoyed at having him back, Bucky was on you like a dog on water.

So naturally the second the doctors deemed him well enough to only check up on him every couple hours instead of every 30 minutes, he wasted no time sweet-talking you from your chair into his bed where he currently had 3 of his stupidly thick fingers pumping knuckle deep inside your drenched pussy.

The noise outside reminded you that this was a busy hospital making your arousal spike on edge, the chances of someone opening the door and seeing you with your heaving tits out, pretty dress around your waist, as Bucky made you cry out while your fluttering cunt gaped around his fingers…

“Hnnnggh…I-I’m trying! Y’ hand's just t-too big“, you whine, eyes watering when he thrusts upwards right into the spot that makes your twitching walls gush slick.

“Now now, that’s not it Bunny- this cunt’s just too goddamn small..“ Bucky rasps into your ear, a shiver wracks up your spine.

The only response you could get out was a whine that cut into a watery gasp when he bought his other hand to play with your swollen clit, swirling the wet pulsing nub in firm circles, biting his lip at the gorgeous display you made.

Your ears were beginning to ring with the effort of staying quiet, eyes watering in pleasure and embarrassment when you caught through the haze, just how loud your cunt sounded being thoroughly fucked by John’s big fingers.

The slick in and out of has your eyes mindlessly rolling back, body quivering from how good it feels as you get closer, your pussy practically sucking his fingers in as your walls tighten like a slick fist. John groans in your ear as he looks down, seeing how gone you are with your stretched cunt creaming all over his hand.

“Shhh, so good for me bunny….just like that. Makin’ me feel so much better already.” He whispers in your ear, licking across your jaw before dragging his fingers almost all the way out before sinking them back into your sopping pussy, jaw dropping open in a silent scream with his fat middle finger crooked as he nails your g spot.

Your muscles spasm violently and the original goal of keeping it down, gets further and further in the shadow of your impending orgasm plus Bucky wasn’t helping at all with the pure filth coming out of his mouth. He’d always been a dirty talker, quick witted risqué lines that made you blush even back when he’d first been pursuing you….but this?

“C’mon baby, listen to that..my girls sound so sweet gettin’ a good fucking hm?”

“God I missed you, you’re almost too tight now. Can’t wait til we get home so I can properly break her in.”

“Mhmm bet you feel real good yeah? Yeahhhh you are. Drippin’ everywhere my slutty little bunny.” He hissed into your ear.

Oh dear god.

The moment your hiccuping whines bubbled to desperate moans in your throat, John slapped the hand that had been on your clit over your mouth, muffling your wails as white hot pleasure took you over the edge.

Shudders wrack your body while you cum, clit throbbing in time with your spasming walls while the lack of oxygen and your muffled moans add to the intensity of your orgasm. John’s hand slows a bit as he fucks you through it, almost putting your overstimulated self in a coma, kissing the tear trail down the side of your eyes; cock harder than ever as he waits for you to come down.

“Oooh. That was a good one, wasn’t it baby?”

Hand still over your mouth as you drop your head down in a wrecked “yes”. John hums as he manhandles your limp body around to face him, laying you on his chest and smoothing your dress down right as the door begins to open, uttering one last soaking promise into your ear…

“If you think you felt something now, just wait until we get home…gonna feel how much I missed you when I’m wearing that pussy out.”

godblessamerica???

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #masters of the air #mota #fluff #asks #answered💛🎀#x reader #smut #john egan x reader #john bucky egan x reader #callum turner smut #john egan #john bucky egan

52 notes · View notes

jakeikeu · 2 days

Text

morning warmth || sjy

genre: fluffy drabble. you are married!! with kids!!

warnings: suggestive, but barely. grammar is def incorrect...

word count: 0.8k? tbh i didn't count this time

synopsis: you’re settled in the best of places. these are your typical mornings married to jake.

The autumn air is crisp with a bite, but the rays of sun contradict. It feels too good on your skin to go back inside despite the lack of clothing covering your body. A silk robe sits off the shoulder, wrapped tightly around your waist. A gift from Jake given to you on a night where the stars were shining the brightest. Buying it because it reminded him of your touch.

"Mellow and gentle", he would whisper to you, lips pressed softly against your temple. For you and the stars to hear.

A small smile graces your features at the passing memory, you bring the robe tighter around your body. The cup of coffee sits empty on the balcony table and bustles as your knee gets caught under the table attempting to stand up. Rubbing the soreness away you re-enter the warmth of your home, empty mug in hand, and bring the balcony doors to a close shutting out the cool breeze. Your feet shuffle towards the vinyl record player, bringing a gentle sound into the air. The kids have been out the whole weekend with their grandparents. Home clouds itself in soft quietness from the lack of their rowdy presence.

This is your last day off and your last day of peace and tranquility, so you spend it in the arms of your lover.

Making your way back to the bedroom where the sunlight gazes through the blinds and casts its shadows over the sleeping lump on your bed. The blankets and pillows are set array. Jake lays on his back with his mouth hung open while his chest falls up and down with every breath he takes. The blankets are bunched around his waist so you fix it to cover his whole body similar to the way he does to you on a late night homecoming finding you fast asleep on the couch.

Slowly crawling onto the bed, you lift the heavy duvet and bring your body closer to Jake’s. The shuffling brings out a small groan from the male, lips smacking as he shifts to bring you in closer by the waist, engulfing you in warm comfort. His breathing evens out again, and you’re left admiring the features of his face. Your fingers gently brush over the side of his face until your palm meets the tan of his neck, splaying your fingers just over the curve of his jaw. Your touch is electric and undisturbed and Jake feels it too as he nuzzles into your palm placing a small peck right in the center.

You stare for a few more moments and marvel at the way your heart continuously beats in endearment for him. The blossom that starts in your chest surrounds your body as Jake cracks one sleepy eye open taking a glance into your own before scrunching them back closed with a stretch of his limbs and a loud groan coming from his throat. His arms find themselves at home around your waist once again before rolling over onto his back bringing you on top of him. Lifting your head to look down on him you press a long kiss to his lips.

Jake sighs once you pull away, his arms flexing around you tighter, chasing after your mouth. “good morning,” he mumbles placing his lips on yours after each word, brushing your hair behind your ears.

Loving you for years and he still stares into your eyes like it's the first time.

“your breath stinks,” scrunching your nose at him despite the fluttering in your belly.

“you kissed me first.”

Closing his eyes he basks in your warmth for a moment longer.

“when’s breakfast?” he asks, breaking the silence.

You hit his arm in response and using his chest as leverage, lift yourself up onto your forearms looking at him with the most serious face you could muster, “when you brush your teeth.”

You let out a laugh as he slams his head back on the pillow in defeat eyebrows scrunched and begin to maneuver yourself off his body when he moves to sit up. Settling back into a laying position as Jake crawls over your body to stand on the wooden floors. He stretches his arms over his head and you thank the heavens he sleeps shirtless as you watch every ridge of his muscles twist this way and that.

Noticing you staring he lets a slight smirk grace his features before attacking your stomach with wiggles of his fingers. “mmm baby it's only eight in the morning,” sweet voice overbearing your screams of laughter

Satisfied, he leans in and presses his lips to yours once again and let's go with a soft bite to your bottom lip, weaving his arms under your knees and back before straightening with you in his arms.

You stare at his features for the second time this morning as you let a stray thoughts cross your mind hiding the smile crawling up your face in his neck and let your nose slightly brush along it, inhaling the scent that is solely him as he walks towards the bathroom with you in tow, setting you down on the sink in front of him.

His fingers are soft and delicate when he runs them along the tops of your thighs. From his place standing in between your legs, he towers over you and you lean back on your hands to look up at his eyes. He can’t help the chuckle he lets out as he thinks of your first encounter. A cluster coffee spills, Jake’s stutters, and a rare complement of his smile coming from you that you still tell him to this day.

“i’m so in love with you.” he lets the smile shine through.

“i love you most.” and it’s not until you're halfway to the kitchen when Jake realizes you're gone.

And when the smell of breakfast wafts its way throughout the house, Jake's stomach roars as the scent reaches his nose all the way upstairs. He stampedes in just at the right moment when you settle the plate of cooked bacon down on the counter and his body collides with yours rounding his arms around you from behind before lifting and spinning. The sound of your giggles brings him a certain happiness that nothing else can as he settles you down gently before nuzzling into the side of your neck taking a deep inhale.

“c’mon baby, I called my parents over for breakfast and they’re bringing the kids back. I need assistance here,” you kiss the side of his head.

“let’s stand like this for a few more minutes,” is whispered into the side of your neck. The movement of his lips are light, but it’s there.

And so you stay for a few more moments. Swaying slightly side to side with the music from earlier this morning still permeating its sound throughout the living area. Hearts full of love. Sim Jaeyun, the only one capable of making your heart flutter with a simple stroke of his hands upon your arms.

The next second you're thrown off momentum, and the only thing you could comprehend is Jake's evil laugh before you’re settled on top of the counter. The space between your thighs occupied by Jake's body again. Your heart beating faster and your breaths heavier as Jake's hands burn a hot trail from the tops of your thighs to undo the tie of your robe. It drapes open to reveal the simple black bra and underwear, but that’s enough for Jake to salivate. His pupils dilate with a sharp inhale he lets out through a groan.

“just give me five minutes I can be fast,” his hands curl up your sides to the small of your back to bring you in that much closer. He brushes his nose along the column of your neck, open mouthed kisses following the same pattern before trailing down to graze his teeth over your clothed nipples.

“we can’t, the kids.” you stutter out, but tilt your head back to welcome more of what he's giving you. His kisses turning into little bites and his little bites turning into harsh sucks leaving red splotches in their wake and your core clenches.

"my baby's so dumb and I haven't done a thing yet."

The harsh ringing of your phone and the vibrations coming from it that scare you two apart. Heavy breathing filling the void as you scramble to answer it with a shaky hello almost dropping it in the process.

“mommy!” you smile wide hearing her voice before it’s cut off by the voice of your father.

“we’re headed to the store, do you need anything?” he offers a harmless chore.

“no, thank you! ...mhm I love you too!” setting the phone down after the call ended.

You look over your shoulder to see Jake cutting fruits. He momentarily stops to look up at you following the structures of your face before moving down to glaze over your neck. His eyes snap back up to yours where he sends you a wink with a smirk overcoming his features and resumes cutting the fruit like nothing ever happened.

Brat.

a/n: omg hi guys! i would say i'm back, but the last time i wrote was like years ago and i deleted everything from then lmao so technically this is my first official something. hope you guys like it and show it some love. stay tuned! <3

#enhypen #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake fluff #jake scenarios #jake imagines

41 notes · View notes

dinogoofymutated · 2 days

Text

Enemies to lovers! Quicksilver/GN!Reader

So no one requested this but I can't get it out of my head so it's going here!! I absolutely love quicksilver in the comics and the animated shows but most of his content is from the movies. I'm not complaining! But I wanted to branch that out a bit lol. I guess you can imagine almost any Pietro, but I was picturing his personality from Wolverine and the X-men. Haven't seen it in a while so forgive me if this is OOC.

This is set pre-dead professor. I might have also gotten a little carried away with this one, lol, and there will be a part 2! Fights and stuff are kept super vague for my mental health sorry if it's shitty.

-ps- someone let me know if Pietro's super speed counts for swimming too??

TWS: Tlasophobia (possibly?) Almost drowning. Dehydration, wounds.

You weren't sure if you considered Quicksilver an enemy, a rival, or an arch-nemesis, but the one thing you did know was that Pietro Maximoff was the most annoying motherfucker on the planet. Seriously! As part of the X-men, he seemed to always be in your way in every major fight.

What didn't help was that you were a speedster in your own right- well, not on land that is. The same gene that blessed others with powers beyond comprehension turned you into... a fish? Sure, you were fine on land, able to blend in with regular humans, but the moment you hit the water you were completely different. Gills, fins, the works. And you were fast. Really fucking fast.

Now when you first met Pietro while on a mission, he was being a snarky bastard. Can't catch me this, too slow that, ha! The guy may be able to run on water, but he's clumsy when he's in it. You're sure you have his face memorized from the time you caught up with him beneath the waves, tugging on his ankle and pulling him into the sea. His eyes practically bulged out of his head when realized what had happened. Of course, you're sure his face was even funnier when he watched you speed off into the depths, having neutralized him for the moment.

Every fight after that turned into a contest. Who can beat who where, Who stranded the other first, easily taking them out of the battle quickly and efficiently. Things like that. The professor had to remind you sometimes that the goal is to protect others, protect humanity, not quarrel with Quicksilver. You knew that, of course. You're thankful for the professor and what he's trying to do- but every time you saw Pietro's stupid arrogant smile you just got so- aggravated!

That being said, just because he aggravated you, didn't mean you wanted him dead. In fact, fate would keep pulling the two of you together in the least expected ways.

First, it was you, saving him from a sinking ship. He had slipped and managed to knock himself out during the fight, you having found him while trying to ensure everyone was off the boat. You were conflicted at first, knowing he was your enemy but not wanting to leave him to drown. In the end, you had grabbed him. The problem was that he wasn't breathing when you made it to the shore.

Some aggressive CPR and a few broken ribs later, he was coughing up water from his lungs. You, surprisingly, were at his side, holding him steady. Pietro was confused at first, letting you help him sit up as he coughed his lungs out, but his expression completely changes when he looks up and realises who's been holding him up. He makes an incredulous face at first, then rising to his feet in a split second, although not without swaying. He eyed you suspiciously as you stood to face him.

"You shouldn't be moving so fast straight away. I'm sure I broke a few ribs trying to get you back." You said. He sets a hand on his side wincing as he Most likely prods at a few bruises.

"Why did you...?" He can't seem to finish the scentace, and you simply shrug. You couldn't leave him there. As annoying as he was, you wouldn't wish a death by drowning on anyone. You're pretty sure you'd have saved him in any other circumstances as well, but you choose not to think about that right now. His face of confusion morphs into slight seriousness, and when he looks back to the ocean to see the Brotherhood is long gone he stands for a moment. You can almost see the gears whirring in his head, and reach out to take his arm.

"Look, I get that you recover fast and all, but you should really take it easy-" Before you finish your scentace, you've been shoved back into the sand dune. Pietro is standing further away from you than before, arms crossed as the sand settles from his quick movement. You stare at him in shock.

"Your loss." He says, sticking his tongue out before speeding off and across the water, kicking up sand in your face as he does so. UGH! Even when you go out of your way to be nice, He's a dick!

Despite him being a straight up asshole the last time you saw him, it's safe to say something between you has changed. You couldn't quite place it, but you could see it in the way you would fight. What would have been brutal punches shifted to major inconveniences, like handcuffing you to a railing and things like that. Incapacitating you without dragging you further into the fight. In fact, he hadn't even snatched you up to run and drop you off hours away from the fight for a while. Beforehand, he loved to strand you somewhere land-locked, forcing you to wait until the X-men came to pick you up. Sometimes it would take days for them to get to you, so you were almost always on guard, staying close to or in the water so he couldn't catch you.

You had gotten used to the new Quicksilver, and what used to be a rock-solid defence and begun to crumble. That was your mistake. The next time you saw Pietro, there most definitely a shift in the air. This fight was going to be brutal, but you and the team had prepared for it. You thought you had anyway. But with your friends getting injured, the fight dragging on, taking a turn for the worse, you were genuinely beginning to fear for everyone's lives.

It wasn't long after that relvation that your head was spinning, and you were being plopped down on a gritty, sandy surface.

"Sorry babe, you'll thank me later!" You clench your jaw at the sound of his voice, catching the sight of sandy dunes as you tried to turn around to rip into the man.

"Pietro!-" Your venomous words were cut off as a blur of silver rushes off, kicking up a gust of wind and leaving you stranded. Worse than stranded, you would say. Pietro had left you in a desert. A bright, dry, hot ass desert. And it was not going well for you.

Not only did you have no clue where you were going, but you were beginning to realize that you were in a really bad position. It was like every drop of moisture was being sucked out of your body. Your mouth felt dry and cottony, exhaustion setting in a little too easily. You were dizzy, dehydrated, and hopelessly lost. The sun had no mercy for you. Eventually, you have to lie down, doing your best to stay awake and not fall asleep, worrying about the worst, but eventually your drooping eyes win over your will to remain awake.

The sun is starting to set when you wake up, throat dry as a bone, both sickly and exhausted. You can hear the sound of something approaching, and do your best to sit up on your knees, doubling over for a moment before forcing your body to love. A pair of legs step right in front of you as you do.

"Wow, You look terrible." Quicksilver says, and if you didn't know any better, you would almost say he looks concerned. You don't have the energy to roll your eyes or speak to him at the moment, stars flickering in your eyes as you start to sway. You start to teeter, before you're snatched off the desert sand, Pietro having caught you and scooped you up into his arms.

"Worse than terrible, actually." He mumbles this time. His concern is clear now, face close enough to your own for you to properly see him. You scoff, or at least attempt to.

"You... left an aquatic mutant... in the middle of the desert. What were you expecting?" You say, having to pace yourself. You're fully leaning your head against his shoulder now, not having the energy to keep your head up anymore. You can feel him suck in a breath and tense up as you begin to go limp against him. His hold tightens up on you before he takes off running.

You've always been accustomed to extreme speeds, at least mostly, but the combination of how ill you feel and his sudden stop makes you want to puke. You can't bear to open your eyes at the moment, choosing instead to bury your face in Quicksilver's shoulder. You're sure he's taken you to some random place to leave you to die, but he sets you down on something soft and cushioned.

"...Where-?"

"You're in the mansion." He says quickly, cutting you off. You stare at him in disbelief as he stands back up, and you realise he's taken you to the medbay. You and Pietro make eyecontact for a moment, both wondering what to say. Eventually, you watch as pietro moves across the room to purposely set off the alarm, which you know for a fact he knew how to avoid. He turns back to you, winking as he readies himself to speed off again.

"See you soon, slowpoke." He says. You make a face at him and he laughs. In a blink, he's gone, just as the doors bust open, Beast running in frantically, with the professor rolling close behind him.

You cant quite figure out this man. Normally, he'd just leave you to fend for yourself. He's never come back to get you before. Why would he do it then? At first you were sure he put you out in the desert as a deliberate attempt to leave you for dead, but now? He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you're not sure how to feel about that.

In the end, only Pietro knew why he came back. Or did he? Maybe he was just as confused and conflicted as you were.

Only time would tell.

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximov #pietro maximoff x reader #quicksilver headcannons #x men headcanons #wolverine and the x men

20 notes · View notes

its-avalon-08 · 20 hours

Text

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p9

chapter 9: don't let your guard down

warnings - none at all

series masterlist

As the warmth of the coffee spread through them, so did the conversation. They delved back into their childhood, sharing forgotten memories with easy laughter. Lewis spoke of his surprise and (secretly) delight when Y/N began showing up at his and Nico's racing practice sessions, her bright personality a welcome change to their competitive intensity.

Y/N, in turn, confessed her childhood crush on him, a secret she'd harbored for years. "I used to sneak peeks at you during races," she admitted with a blush, "just waiting around with cold bottles of water and hoping you'd notice me cheering you on from the stands."

Lewis chuckled, a genuine smile warming his features. "Believe me, I noticed." He felt a warm feeling bloom in his chest

The conversation grew more serious as they touched upon the rift between Lewis and Nico. Y/N listened intently as Lewis spoke of the crushing pressure to win, the constant need to prove himself. "It's frightening. I turned into a totally different person and I wasn't able to recognize myself after everything with-with.. Nico," Lewis's voice broke towards the end truly giving away how hurt he was. He admitted his fear of commitment, not just on the track but in his personal life.

"Dating is… complicated," Lewis confessed, running a hand through his hair. "There's never enough time, and the fear of failing… it spills over into everything. I am not able to enjoy the simple things like movie nights because I'm always checking my phone to see if Toto sent me something. I forget anniversaries because I'm occupied with all the other overwhelming things."

Y/N nodded in understanding. "I totally get it," she said softly. "I had a serious relationship a few years ago with this guy called Aaron. We were together for a year but it crashed and burned because of his.. inability to stay away from his ex's bed. We just weren't right for each other. I wanted my career and he wanted someone who stayed at home and didn't travel as much. I just could never be that person for him."

A shadow crossed Lewis's face. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

"It's okay," Y/N forced a smile. "I learned a lot from it, mostly that I deserve someone who can be honest and true."

Suddenly, a playful glint returned to her eyes. "Speaking of which, I'm actually seeing someone casually right now. It keeps the pressure off from being permanently held to someone and just allows me to have a fun time. Just to keep things interesting, you know?"

Lewis's smile faltered, a flicker of something akin to jealousy crossing his features. He quickly masked it, but Y/N caught the shift in his demeanor.

"Oh," he said, his voice a touch colder. "That's… nice. yeah, that's good."

The conversation stalled, a heavy silence settling between them. Y/N's phone buzzed insistently in her pocket. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was her brother calling. Her face paled considering she had just spent over an hour talking to Nico's rival.

"Well," she said, standing up. "This has been… nice. Unexpected, but nice. I should probably get going."

Lewis rose as well, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within him. "Yeah, of course. See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah," she echoed, feeling the awkwardness return. "Bye, Lew- Lewis." She corrected herself from muttering his nickname. Lewis noticed and he felt his heart freeze.

With a mumbled goodbye, Y/N exited the apartment, leaving Lewis alone with the lingering scent of her vanilla perfume and a tangled web of emotions. He watched her disappear down the hallway, a strange ache settling in his chest. He hadn't expected her to be seeing someone, and the realization stung more than he cared to admit.

Lewis sank back into the chair, the worn leather a stark reminder of a simpler time. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to rebuild the bridges that had been burned. But first, he had to confront his own fears, both on and off the track. As the afternoon sun streamed through the window, Lewis knew his journey to redemption had just begun.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

#sir lewis hamilton #lewis x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes #y/n #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #red bull racing #max verstappen imagine #carlos sainz imagine #romance #ava speaks

34 notes · View notes

morganski-19 · 22 hours

Text

The One with the Trifle Pt 2

part 1 here

A little while later, Robin and Eddie return, bringing the trifle with them. Argyle, thoroughly stoned, walks over to it, leaning down to stare at it eye level.

“Looks great, dude. What is it?”

“English trifle. I found this old cookbook in a thrift shop and thought it looked good. And there was no oven involved, so nothing is burnt this year,” Robin points the last question at Steve, glaring at him.

Steve presses his lips together, trying not to say anything bad. “Yep, nothing looks burnt.”

“Just wait until you taste it,” she excitedly goes on. “I tried everything separately and it was so good, so I’m excited to see what it tastes like all together.”

“What’re the layers?” Argyle asks, still staring at the dessert.

“Lady fingers, then jam, custard, that I made from scratch, raspberries, more ladyfingers, then beef sauteed with peas and onions. More custard, a layer of bananas, and then some whipped cream. Weird right?”

Nancy chokes on her drink. “Weird. What’s weird about it?”

“The beef. Everything else is so sweet it just seems out of place. But then I was like, there’s a mince meat pie. And pies are sweet, so this is just normal for them I guess.”

Eddie claps his hands, getting everyone attention. Totally not nervous about all of this. “Yeah, so normal. Is the rest of the food ready? I am starved.”

They all sit down at the table and have their dinner. The rest of the food is very good, no complaints there. They play cards and talk in between dinner and dessert, after everyone helps clean up of course. Eddie might convince Argyle to give him a joint, just to prepare a little bit. Also, he hates Thanksgiving, so it helps.

“Remind me again why you hate Thanksgiving,” Nancy asks after crushing them all in a round of poker.

“My dad liked to think that you couldn’t get arrested on holidays, which isn’t true. When I was nine, he stole a car, immediately got caught, then got arrested. Happened again when I was twelve. And then I think again when I was fifteen, but I was living with Wayne at that point. Every year, people get together to be thankful, while I get reminded of my dick of a father. Who is probably in jail again for doing something stupid.”

Jonathan winces. “That sucks, man.”

Eddie shuffles the cards. “Yeah. But my uncle’s great though. More of a father to me than my own father was. Would have invited him if he didn’t already have plans.”

They play a few more rounds, Eddie able to sneak in win when Nancy gets dealt a bad hand. Jonathan even wins once, even though he’s a bit confused at what game they’re really playing.

Then it’s time, and Robin starts to plate the trifle. Taking a big spoonful of all the layers and handing them to everyone. Finally sitting down with her own piece, with a huge smile. Steve takes a deep breath in preparation. Nancy gives Steve one last dead glare. One that says both “this is your fault” and “if you mess this up, I will kill you”.

Jonathan pokes around the plate with his fork, inspecting it. Argyle looks actually excited to eat this and Eddie is just twirling the fork around in his hand waiting for someone else to eat it first.

“Steve, I want you to take the first bite,” Robin says, ever so sweetly. With just a touch of malice in her voice. “Since you always doubt my cooking so much.”

Steve nods, pained. “Right. Yeah, of course.” He takes a forkful of the trifle, skirting around the beef.

“You missed a whole layer there. I want to make sure you eat all of it.” Robin smirks at him. Steve can’t tell if it’s because she’s hiding something or because she’s made about his earlier comments. Mind too filled with the anxiety over eating this.

Steve stares at the dessert before his eyes, taking a deep breath before giving Robin a pained smile. Then eating the trifle, trying his hardest not to gag. “It’s great, Rob,” he says, trying to swallow. “So good.”

“Alright, now the rest of you.”

Nancy takes a breath before just shoving a forkful in her mouth. Looking like she barely chews before swallowing it. Jonathan eats it like anything else, looking partially confused, but taking a moment to register what all the flavors are. Argyle just keeps eating it.

Eddie doesn’t eat it at all.

“Steve’s right, probably the best thing you’ve made,” Nancy acts better than Steve did. “You should send me the recipe.”

“Yeah, dude,” Argyle says, plate now half empty. “This is really good.”

Robin bursts out laughing, causing the rest of the table to look at her. “I can’t believe you actually ate it. Oh my God.”

“What?” Steve says, half choking on the water he was drinking.

“I didn’t actually think that beef belonged in the trifle. Do you all really think I’m that dumb?”

Jonathan looks up from his plate, eyes squinted. “What’s going on?”

Argyle leans over. “Not sure but Robin’s laughing a lot.”

Robin stands up, taking her plate and throwing her piece in the trash. “Hold on a second.”

Eddie stands after she leaves, taking his own plate and throwing out his untouched piece of the trifle. “I need you all to know, that I had no idea about this before today. And if it weren’t for Nancy making fun of the way I slice green beans-.”

“Because no one slices green beans that way,” Nancy exclaims.

“I do,” Eddie says dramatically. “Wayne has done it for me that way since I was a kid and wasn’t the biggest fan of green beans. If you want them cut a certain way, you should tell people.”

Nancy pauses. “That is a good point. I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”

“Thank you.” Eddie sees Jonathan and Argyle still eating the not real trifle. “Oh guys, you don’t have to eat that. It was a prank.”

“What?” Jonathan asks, still not sure what’s going on.

Argyle leans over again. “This was a prank, we don’t have to eat this anymore.”

“But it’s dessert.”

“Yeah, but not the real dessert.”

Jonathan is not putting the pieces together. “Where’s the real dessert then?”

“Don’t know, man. It isn’t here yet.”

Nancy stands, taking the two plates in front of them. “I’m just going to move these.”

“Jesus, dude, how much did you smoke?” Steve asks, finally throwing his food away.

Robin comes back into the apartment with another trifle in her hands, this one beef free. She places it in the center of the table, smiling maniacally. “This is the real trifle.”

The real trifle looks exactly like a picture of one would. Layers of lady fingers, jam, custard, and fruit. All perfectly even, with not a speck of beef in sight.

“That,” Nancy starts, still in shock, “looks really good.”

“I know, right.” Robin sits back down in her seat. “And it really wasn’t that hard either. The only thing that I had to make myself was the custard, which was actually pretty easy.”

“I knew that’s not how cookbooks worked,” Steve says annoyed, glaring at Eddie.

Eddie shrugs, “It was part of the bit.”

Argyle stares at the new trifle. “I think you’re missing a layer there, dude.”

“No, she added an extra layer before,” Eddie explains. “This one is the correct one.”

“If you say so.” Argyle leans back into the chair, still skeptical.

The real trifle is dished out and eaten pretty fast. Everyone apologizing to Robin for doubting her. She sits with a smug look on her face for the rest of the night.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

#morgan's friends au #friends au #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #pre relationship #steddie #ronance #jargyle #recreational drug use #recreational marijuana

22 notes · View notes

wsdanon · 3 days

Note

among us au please?

hi \o/ firstly i'm going to direct you here for some backstory/information about the au

next: here is a bit of the first chapter \o/! it's 2500 words basically so reblogs are appreciated but it does cut off before a proper chapter resolution

Really, there are better things Felps could be doing with his life. But technically he’s obligated to do this, and he hasn’t found anything else to do, so, here he is. Handing over the fake ID Cellbit made for him.

The security guard barely even scrutinises it before passing it back, and nodding him through. It’s always a gamble, though. So, he keeps walking until he’s far enough out of view that the other guards won’t really pay attention to him, and lingers until Cellbit catches up.

“Easy.” Cellbit mutters. “I don’t even think he read our names.”

“Well, easier is better, right?”

“So careless. It’s like they’re asking us to kill them.”

“He’s not in the line of fire.” Felps says with a shrug. “Even with all the security crackdowns, no ports have been attacked yet.”

“We should change that.” Cellbit says, far too determined for Felps’ liking.

“I dunno… you know the plan. Cucurucho won’t like it if we deviate from it.”

“Fuck him.” Cellbit hisses. “Any day now I’m going to get you your freedom, and then we can kill whoever the fuck we like.”

“Keep your voice down.”

Felps says it calmly, but he won’t deny that the slight rise in Cellbit’s volume sent a spike of fear through him. Cellbit doesn’t seem to care as much—confident that he’ll be able to break them out of whatever prison—but Felps would rather not chance it. That’s the whole reason they’re doing this, after all. He’s caught between a prison sentence from the Federation, and a prison sentence from the human government.

Ultimately, Cellbit would prefer the latter, Felps is sure. If the Federation finds out he’s travelling with Felps, they’ll probably just kill him.

Thankfully, though, Cellbit changes the topic to something less incriminating, and Felps spends the rest of the walk through the station feeling calmer. Until they hit the body scanners.

The ID check is always easy. Even when heavily scrutinised, Cellbit is good enough at making them that they always end up passing through with no problems.

The body scanner is a different subject.

It’s finicky. Relies entirely on Cellbit’s ability to successfully use sleight of hand to put in the USB with the code that’ll make Felps look human, and then take it out again. Without any guards noticing.

One of the reasons they hit this port specifically, though, was that they haven’t been involved in any incidents. No caught aliens, and no departing ships that never arrive to their destinations. The crackdown has been intense, but people are lazy. A persistent, unconscious thought of, but it’d never happen to me.

This station is fairly busy, too. A lot to keep an eye on, no reminder to keep an eye on it—it’s the best shot they have.

Cellbit steps on first. The holographic grid climbs up his body, and then back down. He’s waved along. He stops, and leans close to the guard—his elbow resting on the desk, hand lingering past their view. Easily, he slips the USB into the computer.

“I’m just gonna wait for my friend, is that okay?”

Felps can’t hear him over the crowd, but they’ve gone over the plans a million times.

The security guard nods, looking bored. Felps steps onto the platform. The scanner sweeps over him, static and nerves following it. But it’s easy enough to keep his cool while his heart is beating in his throat. He’s always been good at that, even without the amount of practice he’s been put through recently.

He steps off the platform. Doesn’t even get the chance to worry as the computer quickly confirms him as human. The guard waves him through. Cellbit pushes himself away from the desk—USB safely retrieved, and quickly hidden back in his sleeve.

“Easy.” Cellbit mutters again.

“Easy is good.” Felps reminds him again.

When they first started doing this, Cellbit used to revel in all the gaps of transport security, and how easy it was to exploit them. Felps thinks, maybe, Cellbit misses the challenge a little. He doesn’t know a lot about what put Cellbit on that prisoner transport ship, but with the gleeful look in his eyes when he murders, he can take a guess.

“Do you remember where our ship is?” Felps asks, before Cellbit goes on another rant about lax security.

“Of course I do.”

Cellbit takes his arm, and pulls him off in a direction. Felps lets himself be led.

It’s a smaller ship, as usual. Which means it’ll stay in port until they arrive. Felps is tempted to take a detour to eat a proper meal before they leave, but he knows they need to stake out the situation.

The information on this ship is frighteningly scarce. Usually Cellbit can have a whole crew list pulled up, as well as general spaceship schematics. This one has nothing, though. All they managed to find was a list of potential departure stations so they could sway the choice their way.

It’s not the kind of mission Felps is happy to take. Cellbit’s eyes had practically lit up the second he realised it wasn’t going to be easy, and had spent roughly the next forty eight hours trying to dig up any scraps of information he could.

Felps hid all his coffee sometime around hour number thirty nine; when he was too focused on the investigation to remember how much he had in stock, and figured he had just run out. Or, that’s what Felps assumes, considering Cellbit never bothered him about the missing coffee. Either way, he eventually passed out at his desk.

The point is, even though they should be through the difficult part, Felps still feels his unease grow.

Cellbit stops abruptly, Felps bumping into him.

“There.” He points over to airlock number six. “That one.”

Felps cranes to try and look at the ship through the window. It doesn’t look like a model he’s familiar with, but he’s a little too far away to tell.

“Let’s go introduce ourselves then.”

They walk over, dodging through the crowd. There’s no one waiting outside the airlock yet, but Felps catches a glimpse of someone with bright pink hair carrying cargo onto the ship.

He makes a beeline towards them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cellbit heading to the window facing the ship. Felps knocks quickly on the edge of the airlock to announce his presence.

“Yeah, hold on.”

The voice is familiar, but Felps can’t place it. Probably just the accent.

They place down the boxes hastily, turn around—and practically jump five feet into the air.

“What the fuck?” Mike exclaims, eyes wide. “Felps? You’re alive?”

Ah. That’s why it’s familiar.

“Oh. Yeah!” Okay, this complicates things. “Hi, Mike!”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m the pilot.”

“You’re—? Ugh.” Mike swipes a hand under his glasses, and drags it back down his face, clearly annoyed. “These stupid fucking blackout documents. Well, it is good to see you, at least.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” And it is, really. Felps had grown… maybe too attached to him and Pac. “I’m here with Cellbit—he’s my co-pilot.”

“Cellbit made it out, too? Damn, soon you’ll be telling me the murders just completely stopped after we left.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t know.” Felps lies. “We took a page out of your book.”

“Good idea.”

“So, you’re working here?” Felps asks, dread curling through him.

He managed to get Cellbit to leave them alone before, but this ship is a lot smaller. They probably won’t get that luxury this time.

“Yeah, me and Pac. We’re the engineers.”

“Nice!”

Not nice. Really not nice. Shit.

“Well,” Mike points a thumb behind him, “Pac’s in the engine room setting some stuff up if you want to go say hi.”

He resolutely tries to ignore the butterflies floating through his chest at the thought of seeing Pac again. He’s probably going to have to let Cellbit kill them, now is not the time.

“Thanks. I think Cellbit’s taking a look at the ship.”

“Cool, cool. I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you later.”

As they go their separate ways, Felps quickly messages Cellbit the news. Then he tries to find his way towards the engineering room.

It’s more difficult than it should be. The ship’s layout isn’t like any he’s been on before, and there’s absolutely no maps, or directions anywhere. But finally, he stumbles into the place. The heat from the engines is overwhelming, but nice. Felps rarely feels temperatures that mimic the types of weather he grew up with.

There’s a grate on the floor that’s pulled up, and Felps can see a blue hoodie, and black hair crouched down in the space revealed.

“Hi!” Felps calls out over the sound of idling engines, trying not to startle him.

It doesn’t work. Pac yelps, and there’s the distinct sound of something being dropped. Then he pokes his head out from the space, and grins.

“Felps!” Pac pulls himself up so he can sit on the floor, legs still dangling over the edge. “Mike told me you were here.”

In lieu of taking off the hoodie, he’s just pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. Grease covers his arms—there’s spots of it on his face, too. He looks good.

“Yeah! It’s good to see you again.”

“You too! Man, I’m so glad you’re alive.” Pac winces. “Sorry we didn’t take you with us. It’s just the lights went out, and we couldn’t find you, and then—uh, yeah. We, like, had to get out.”

Felps keeps his eyes carefully trained on Pac’s face, instead of letting them dip down to where his legs are. He’s not supposed to know about that.

“It’s fine.” He says with a shrug. “Me and Cellbit got out pretty much right after you, anyway.”

“That’s good.” Pac clicks his fingers. “Oh, hey, have you met Miss Government Agent yet?”

“Miss—huh?” He laughs, not worried about the fact it sounds nervous. He thinks anyone would be in this situation. “A government agent?”

“Yeah! She’s who we’re transporting. Bagi, her name is.” Pac lifts his legs out of the hole so he can stand up. He’s wearing long pants, so from Felps’ brief glance, he still has no idea what his leg looks like now—how well it managed to heal, if it did at all. “I know, I know those blackout documents are so annoying, right? But, yeah, that’s the reason—safety protocols, and all that. I don’t even know what she does in the government, it’s that top secret! I can introduce you guys, if you want?”

“Oh, sure. Thank you.” He watches Pac shift the grate back in place. “Unless you’re busy?”

“Nah, Mike’s better with all this stuff, anyway.” Pac shrugs, and wipes his hands together as if that would do anything but just smudge the grease more. “He’ll do a check over on my work, and finish up anything I missed.”

“Okay, nice.”

God, he never should’ve let Cellbit accept this mission. A government agent? Who the government is going to these lengths to protect? They’re never going to live comfortably again if they follow through with it—constantly on the run from authorities who would never leave a case as big as this alone.

Pac grabs a rag near his toolbox, and absently attempts to clean the grease from himself.

“Also, don’t be surprised if you see a kid running around.” Pac informs him. “His name is Richarlyson, and—my god, Felps—he’s so cute.”

Felps feels the blood freeze in his veins.

“A kid? There’s a kid here?”

“Yeah, he’s mine and Mike’s actually.” Pac says, unaware of Felps’ escalating crisis. “We adopted him—totally legally, by the way—hm, maybe earlier this year?”

“Oh, how cool!”

A kid. Felps can’t kill a kid. Well, technically he hasn’t really killed anyone, but he knows that the blood on Cellbit’s hands may as well be on his, too.

They’ve never been in a situation where a kid was on the line. Felps doesn’t know how to proceed now that there is.

He knows he’s gotten a reputation within the Federation of being brutal, but efficient. All Cellbit, really, but Cucurucho doesn't know about him. Maybe that’s why he was given this mission.

But he hasn’t even come to terms with the fact he’ll need to let Cellbit actually kill Pac and Mike this time. And now there’s a kid. And they also need to kill a government agent, too, and there’s no way the aftermath of that is going to be pretty.

This is very quickly spiraling out of control—veering heavily away from the kind of chaos Felps enjoys with these missions.

He needs to talk to Cellbit. Quickly.

But, for now, he also needs information. So, he follows Pac out of the engine room, and down the confusing hallways.

“The ship layout is very strange.” Felps comments.

“Yeah, you can thank Mike for that.” Pac says with a laugh. “He designed it.”

“Really? That’s cool.”

“We built it a couple years back. I don’t know why the government wants to use our ship, though. Surely they’ve got better ones at their disposal, right?”

“Must be to do with the whole secret thing.” Felps shrugs. “Like, if people want to attack the ship a government agent is on in the middle of space, they’re probably not going to look for something two random guys built, right?”

Not like it really worked out for them. Somehow Cucurucho still got their hands on the information.

“Ohhh, very true, very true.” Pac sends him a smile, and Felps tries not to trip over his feet at the sight of it. “You’re very smart, Felps.”

“Thanks!” He thinks he’s smiling a little too much like an idiot at the compliment, and quickly changes topics. “Wait, but if it’s your ship, why are me and Cellbit here? Surely you both can fly it.”

“Well, we can, but… I dunno. More hands on deck if there’s an emergency, maybe?”

“Ah, true.”

“Here, let me connect to your comm—I’ll give you a map.”

Pac stops in them in the middle of the hallway. While he’s distracted with the task, Felps takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of him—now that they’re closer and he can see all the little details more clearly. He looks mostly the same as Felps remembers, honestly. Still beautiful. If Felps had to point out what’s changed, he’d say that Pac looks less scared.

See, Felps hasn’t been able to forget the expression on Pac’s face when the lights turned out, and Cellbit tackled him to the ground. Even after all this time, he can still conjure the sound of Pac’s screams of pain, and desperate pleas for help clearly in his mind.

Felps usually likes to let Cellbit have his fun. This was the first—and only—time he’d ever interrupted that.

It’s… nice to see Pac not so scared.

and that's what i have so far \o/! hope you guys enjoyed! unfortunately this is way too much of a multi-chaptered fic for me to work on actively right now, but maybe when i finish one of the others i'll come back to it

#wsd/w.ips #wsd/f.ics

26 notes · View notes

wolveria · 3 days

Text

On Frozen Wings - Ch 5

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: 18+ only, Explicit

Hunter and Crosshair deal with the aftermath of Ventress' beatdown the best way they know how.

AO3

Hunter hit the pillow face-first, a loud, shameless groan leaving him.

Crosshair landed on the pillow next to him, his wince visible as he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Ow,” Hunter supplied helpfully. Crosshair snorted.

“We’ve both taken worse. And don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Hunter declined to comment. Crosshair sent him a sideways glance.

“How’s your stomach?” he asked in a way that made it seem like he didn’t care. Hunter smiled a little.

“No broken ribs, so, not bad. How’s your head?”

“Still attached to my neck.”

With how hard Ventress had slammed her boot into the side of Crosshair’s head, that was a small miracle.

And yeah, it had been enjoyable to fight an opponent hand-to-hand who was so skilled, better than any of them. But when she’d put Crosshair in a hold that might prove dangerous, Hunter’s instincts had taken over, and he’d unsheathed his vibroblade without conscious thought.

A lot of good that had done. Crosshair had ended up semi-unconscious, Wrecker choked in midair, and Hunter with a laser sword pointed at his face.

“You know the only reason the Jedi lost is because the regs got the jump on them,” Hunter commented quietly. That, and the generals had genuinely seemed to care about the troopers under their charge. Hunter wouldn’t be surprised if a reluctance to murder their own men had stayed the Jedi from responding with immediate lethal force.

Crosshair grunted but didn’t say anything further. They hadn’t spoken about what happened on Kaller, but Hunter could sense his discomfort. Shooting at the Padawan was probably on his list of mistakes. Hunter had his own regrets with being unable to protect the kid. Jedi or not, he’d been a child.

A child on a battlefield. In hindsight, there were many things about the war that filled Hunter with a soft kind of horror.

He didn’t realize Crosshair was staring at him until the silence went on for too long. Hunter sent him a questioning look, replaying the conversation to see if there had been a comment he’d missed.

Instead of explaining anything, the sniper rolled over onto him, sprawled across Hunter’s back like a warm blanket, or an especially large feline.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Crosshair said in a lazy drawl, his lips equally unhurried as they traced over Hunter’s neck.

He shivered and pressed his face into the pillow to prevent any sounds from escaping. He should be too tired for this, but his full cock pressed into the mattress begged to differ. They hadn’t done any… touching… since the night Crosshair put his mouth on him. They’d been too exhausted each night after a day of hard labor. Shep hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d put them to work if they really wanted, and they’d been helping build new houses along the top of the island.

Each house had to be crafted by hand machine, made of a hard mixture with the white sands found around the island. It was a painstaking process, but Shep said the houses would last several lifetimes and weather anything but tsunamis.

He was happy to help, but most days, Hunter barely made it to the bed before falling asleep.

Which had been great for him, as chronically sleep deprived as he was. But it seemed to be a point of frustration for Crosshair, and Hunter sometimes caught him staring as he hoisted up buckets of sand mixture. Especially on hot days when Hunter was stripped down to the waist.

His lips twitched. Maybe if Crosshair got frustrated enough, he’d stop trying to make Hunter the focus of attention and actually let himself feel good. First time for everything.

“And what should I be doing?” Hunter asked, raising his hips to rub against Crosshair’s erection, and—all right, so maybe Hunter was a bit keyed up from the fight too. These things happened, it was natural, and reminded him too much of their cadet sparring days.

“Depends,” Crosshair purred.

“On?”

“How do you want it?”

Not the first time he’d been asked, and even though Crosshair slowly grinding against his ass felt nice—really nice—he still hesitated. Hunter wasn’t used to new territory, at least when it came to himself.

With Crosshair, he wanted to dive right in, explore his brother and find the secret, hidden things that would make him lose his composure. Hunter knew they existed, he’d caught a glimpse on the Remora, which was why it was so frustrating that Crosshair was making him the focus of these explorations.

Hunter wondered if it was because he was inexperienced. It was surprisingly sweet that Crosshair was trying to take it slow for him, and it was also steadily driving him insane.

Crosshair must have come to his own conclusions from the silence. The wrong ones. He started to pull away, but Hunter grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him.

“I… know what I want,” Hunter said, his voice raspier than he meant it to be. Crosshair looked at him carefully, and this time, the right conclusions were drawn.

“You just don’t know how you want it.”

Hunter nodded, face pressed again into the pillow because it was easier than meeting his eye.

“It’s almost cute,” Crosshair purred, and Hunter growled into the fabric. The sniper lifted off him and smacked him on the ass. “I said ‘almost.’”

Now Hunter really did snarl at him, but Crosshair’s attention was elsewhere, looking for something. When he found it, Hunter’s expression went from bared teeth to wide-eyed surprise.

Crosshair smirked and the small bottle of lube danced between his fingers the way Hunter had watched him deftly handle a toothpick.

“Don’t look so worried. No one’s holes are going to be breached.”

“Oh… kay.”

Hunter didn’t know what to say to that, or the lingering glimmer in Crosshair’s eyes. But when the sniper leaned over his back and pressed his lips to his neck, Hunter cared less what mischief he had in mind.

“Relax,” Crosshair murmured, as if that silky voice would do anything but the exact opposite, setting Hunter’s blood on fire. It certainly didn’t help when he tugged off Hunter’s undershorts and straddled the back of his bare thighs.

Hunter looked over his shoulder to confirm Crosshair was also without pants, only to learn he wasn’t wearing anything. Not a stitch on him, and Hunter groaned and tried to turn over, but the sniper wouldn’t let him.

It was unfair. Finally, Crosshair completely naked, and he couldn’t even get a good look at him.

“Quit squirming,” Crosshair complained. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one waiting for… whatever was going to happen next.

And then Hunter nearly jumped out his skin as he felt the cold viscous liquid drip onto the backs of his thighs. Crosshair had said he wasn’t going into any holes, but it sure seemed like he was, and Hunter wasn’t sure he would mind if he did.

But still, nerves trembled through him, like a wet animal that had been left out in the cold too long.

Crosshair soothed his hand along the curve of his hip, unusually gentle given his annoyed tone. Hunter tried to relax, he really did, but he still flinched when the lube was spread between his thighs.

Crosshair didn’t touch anywhere else, even though he was so close that it was growing tortuous, and Hunter kept raising his hips, seeking any kind of stimulation he could get.

He was rewarded with another slap on his ass, and he snarled again despite the fact it didn’t really hurt. It wasn’t embarrassment either that made his cheeks hot and his hips press desperately into the mattress, either to get away from another possible slap or for more stimulation.

Hunter froze when Crosshair once again laid on his back, his bare skin scorching—and he needed the rest of his clothes off now. Hunter tugged off the top of his body suit, all that was left after they’d stumbled into the house and taken off their gear, revealing bruised flesh.

Crosshair gave his own irritated growl, though his hands told a different tale as they explored his bare sides and rib cage, as if to leave his own imprints along Hunter’s marred skin.

“Trying to make this easier on you, and you’re not helping.”

“I’m helping plenty,” Hunter bit back. “You gonna hurry up?”

Crosshair let out another animalistic sound, and damn, Hunter needed to get him this riled up again. Despite his sharp tongue and prickly attitude, he rarely let himself lose control. And now that he heard the edge in that voice, Hunter couldn’t stop poking at it, like a tongue to a sore tooth.

“Or do you need a hand back there?”

“Don’t make me put you over my knee,” Crosshair growled, further proving his point. Hunter snorted.

“My ass already took a beating today.”

“It can take more.”

Hunter opened his mouth, but his words died as Crosshair shifted his hips, and with a few adjustments, squeezed his cock between Hunter’s thighs.

He shivered—everything was sensitive against his skin right now—but Hunter was more confused than anything.

“And… this is going to feel good?”

“For me, it is,” Crosshair grunted. And then he pulled Hunter’s hips, tilting them up, while his other hand slid around and grabbed his cock. “Now, relax. Or don’t. It’ll be good either way.”

Hunter let out a noise that was humiliatingly close to a whine, but Crosshair had heard worse than that from him. Undeterred, he tested this new angle, carefully thrusting between his thighs, matching his rhythm with his hand.

Yeah, it was good, but it was also a cruel kind of teasing. Crosshair’s hand was a light touch, and the thrusts felt nice but not like anything in particular. It was as if Crosshair was fucking him, but not fucking him. The signals to his brain were confused, unsure if he should push back or rut forward.

Another whine left his throat as Hunter half-buried his face into the pillow. It was torture, it was pleasure, and Hunter wanted—

An image burned through his thoughts, of flipping them both over, forcing Crosshair onto his back as he nipped at his neck, and then prying his knees apart and lining himself up before plunging in deep.

The scene was so visceral that he groaned in his throat, his cock weeping as he tried, and failed, to make Crosshair move his hand faster.

“Crosshair,” he growled, but the sniper didn’t seem to sense the danger he was in. The answering hum sounded unaffected on the surface, but Hunter could smell the sharpness of arousal, the cock between his thighs hard and slick against his skin.

“Move.”

The sniper let out a low, breathy chuckle at the threat.

“Someone’s… impatient.”

Hunter bit into the pillow so he wouldn’t be tempted to sink teeth into skin—and now that image wouldn’t leave him either. Crosshair’s bare throat on display, unmarked and untouched, just waiting for his teeth to find that perfect place between neck and shoulder—

Hunter let out another growl, this one deep and wild, unnerving even for him. And for some forsaken reason, that seemed to push Crosshair’s buttons; he cursed under his breath and rutted his hips faster, his fingers finally gripping Hunter like he meant it.

His own fingers dug at the sheets as if to tear them to ribbons. His balls ached, his cock so hard it almost hurt, and Crosshair panted in between soft noises that were almost whines. They tugged at something deep, and Hunter knew on an instinctual level he could rip those sounds out of Crosshair into full-blown whimpering cries.

Just a hint of what that would require—holding Crosshair down and biting on the vulnerable flesh of his throat—jettisoned Hunter over the edge.

He clamped his teeth on the pillow, a poor substitute, and came hard. Sparks danced behind his shut eyes and tingled up his spine as he spilled over Crosshair’s hand, neither of them caring about the mess on the sheets.

Something warm splashed between his legs, signaling Crosshair’s own relief, accompanied by the sniper lying boneless against his back. They didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy trying to find their air, and Hunter was too relaxed to move anyway.

An amused huff next to his ear as Crosshair remarked, “Did you rip my pillow?”

Sure enough, the pillow that had met Hunter’s teeth had come out the loser, a tear rent through the fabric. Hunter winced. If he really did plan on biting Crosshair at some point, he would have to be gentler than that.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Mmm.”

Crosshair rolled off him in a lazy movement, and Hunter did the same, resting on his back as he winced at the stickiness between his thighs. He almost considered a shower, but he’d probably fall asleep under the spray if he tried.

A small smile crossed his face.

“Figured out what I want now.”

“Goody,” Crosshair mumbled, the sarcasm lost with the words into the pillow. “So glad I could assist.”

Hunter’s smile widened a little more. Crosshair could grumble now because his sarcasm wouldn’t save him later. Not with half the things Hunter had in mind.

Once he felt his legs could support him, Hunter started to get up, and… didn’t think about it. He leaned over, glanced down Crosshair’s naked body with a hunger that was only temporarily sated, and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

Crosshair stiffened, his eyes wide. Hunter himself struggled for something to say, and when nothing came out, he simply moved on and pretended he’d meant to do that. That it was totally normal and not at all like it felt they were toeing a new line.

After he wiped down himself and Crosshair—all while ignoring the sniper’s grumbled protests— he went to cupboard where the clean sheets were kept. Every step sent a wince up his back, and Hunter recalled exactly why it felt like a gunship had been dropped on him. Omega wanted to get to the bottom of her M-count levels, and Ventress supposedly offered her help.

Hunter had eventually given in, to Crosshair’s eternal side eye, and Omega could have one more day for these “tests.” After that, Ventress was gone for good.

Hunter only hoped she would leave without a fight this time. The way his body ached, he didn’t look forward to round two.

Though with the way Crosshair immediately descended on him once they got back into the clean bed, lips and teeth at his neck, Hunter might have to reconsider that statement. He wasn’t the only one that got riled up after a good fight. Thankfully, even Crosshair’s stamina couldn’t recover that quickly, and he didn’t do much more than nip, but it was enough for Hunter to growl and flip him around. He couldn’t sleep with Crosshair’s damn teeth on him, and his cock was making a valiant effort to rally.

Crosshair didn’t seem to mind Hunter’s less than gentle grip, wiggling for a moment before settling back against him, the length of his body perfectly flush against his.

Maybe they have should put some clothing on, but Hunter was loath to move, his nose at Crosshair’s nape, the lingering scent of the shampoo on his skin.

“Weeping maya,” Hunter suddenly said.

“…What.”

“The white blossom. That’s what I smelled.”

“How hard did she crack your head against the ground?”

Hunter hummed a chuckle and closed his eyes.

#the bad batch #crosshunt #clone shipping #crosshair x hunter #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #wolveria writes

17 notes · View notes