#and also its like there's barely any jobs to begin with

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card - What is your soul nudging you towards? - Spirituality

Hello and welcome to a new pick a card collective reading. This time we're going to focus on your spiritual side with the question, What is your soul nudging you towards?

The idea is to welcome any message, any nudge from your soul to encourage you to explore something spiritually. I will keep this open and see what shows up. Never done that specific question, and I'm using a deck I'm not super used to, so you're welcome to leave feedback as it is as much of an exploration for you as it is for me!

As always remember that this is a general reading meant for multiple people, there are only three piles and a shit ton of you. Spirituality is very personal so take what resonates and leave out the rest.

PILE 1

Cards: Parasite, King of Pentacles, Threshold Guardian, 9 of Pentacles, Idiot, 2 of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, Pure Balance, 8 of Swords, Abyss, Queen of Pentacles, Female Warrior, Knight of Pentacles, Holder of Light, Page of Cups, 9 of Cups, Imprisoner, Inner Companion, the World

Right off the bat you've got so many pentacles cards, especially towards the end of the suite like wow, and in placements targeting your current situation and energies. It's a indication that you're currently very focused on the physical aspects of your life in a very abundance-focused way. Which BTW doesn't only mean money but your physical life as a whole. You may just be very focused on your physical routine, your job and building your home, taking care of your body and enjoying the pleasures of life.

This shows right at the beginning of your spread, where we can see that your focus on abundance and enjoying the things of life is interfering with your spiritual development. Its almost like you're carrying so many outside things with you that it leaves no space for tuning in with yourself only. And when you try, it's again very hard to do due to the noise and clutter within you. You are very preoccupied with your job or career, very focused on buying stuff or planning holidays or outings, very focused on your body. I'd say also rather detached from thinking and feeling your spirituality. Like it's barely a tiny thought in your mind but apart from that you pay no attention to it. It's almost like you don't really want to.

However, I do think that this is not happening by mistake and that you need to go through this phase, and if it's so difficult to brute force yourself out of it, or if you feel no desire to do so at all, its because you are sort of blocked from doing that in order not to hijack your natural development. You needed this break, to focus on your own pleasure and physical abundance, to reconnect with what's immediately real and knowable and build a life for yourself. There is this idea of outside forces actually protecting that phase of your life so that you don't rush towards something before you're ready to, which would be counter-productive.

In the past, you were not always the wisest and have made a lot of not so smart decisions, with not so great consequences… you might have been warned but ignored it or failed to see it and proceeded anyway. However, you have learned from it and rebuilt yourself, and I think your current phase of life is part of that; that need to repair your life and the damage you went through. For some of you, it's also possible that you've got a great deal of theoretical knowledge but not much personal practice to back it up, or that you were just repeating what others did without understanding anything about it, and you came to the realization that I made no sense and was pointless, so you withdrew.

What is your soul nudging you towards is balance. As we saw, you're very focused on your physical life, but it is not a bad thing and actually something you needed in order to be the person you wanted to be in the world. But your soul is now calling for some adjustments in order to bring balance into that. At this point it mostly have to do with the way you think, because it seems that you're trapping yourself and refusing to move. You're being asked to take the blinds off and told you have all the power to do so. Now, do you want it right now? I think for some of you it may take a bit of time, but that's the next step anyway and what your soul is nudging you towards.

For challenges you will face, there will be some type of leap of faith to be made. A path that you may accept or reject and that will change your trajectory. You may need to leave your sense of comfort and security a bit here and let go of some of the clutter surrounding you so that you can leave space for change and these new energies. It comes as a challenge because I think you're very reluctant to change at the moment, even distrusting it a bit.

For what help is available, I think for some of you you may rely on the support of a female warrior power of some kind, be it a divinity or a female mentor figure with those qualities, whether in this world or in the other. This will help you stay grounded and make slow but deliberate movements. This support will help you feel secure through the changes and add a layer of protection. For some of you it's about embodying these female warrior qualities. Regardless of gender, it can be described at the need to defend yourself, honor your boundaries and fight for what you believe is right. You might be inspired by someone to act and think like that.

For what steps to take, there is a need to return to source, and it's clarified by two cups cards, the only ones in your reading. So you will be called to reconnect with your emotions, and to put to rest some of them that ate hindering you without you knowing because they are so bottled up. There is a need to make space before you can welcome anything new.

Final advice: you are completing a powerful cycle and, right now, you're tying up loose ends. You may still feel somehow like in a state of spiritual hibernation but worry not because its all part of the process. This is coming to an end as well. This phase is part of a larger developmental process, and i'm getting that help is available from your guides or spirits, however you want to call them or conceptualize them. So I think for you it will be very important to tune it within yourself and with your spiritual court and find the personal advice you need. This reading is general and meant for many people so it won't be able to be tailored to your needs. I really think you have all the answers you need within and that it's a matter of daring to see it and daring to take that leap of faith. You are not alone, you are supported and loved and help is available to you.

PILE 2

Cards: Two of Swords, Grindstone, Five of Wands, Leader, Ace of Wands, Abyss, Scapegoat, Sun rx, Hidden knowledge, Light Bearer, 9 of Pentacles, the Emperor rx, Hierophant, Staff of the Gods, Threshold Guardian, Mother Earth, Blood Ancestor, Spirit Guide, Home and Hearth

For where you currently are spiritually, you are undergoing an intense process of refinement of your self that is divinely guided to push growth. From your point of view, it's manifesting as a time of struggle and even inner conflict that is pushing you to take a stance and make a decision. What it is exactly will vary for different folks, but I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about because it's quite obvious it's creating some inner tensions that must be quite uncomfortable to experience. The message here is that it serves a bigger purpose and that the outcome will depend on your choice to create movement in a specific direction.

For what energies are surrounding you, with the combination of the Leader and the Ace of Wands, it definitely points at a very fiery, action oriented energy. You are called to embody the positive attributes of a wise and powerful leader who takes the matter into their own hands and do not let fate decide their path for them. While committed to move forward, you also do not loose sight of your values and what you care about, which is not about hesitating but rather being fully rooted in your beliefs and let that fuel you. So I think whatever change you are going through, it's not about an extreme shift of paradigm, but rather, deepening things powerfully and owning your choices fully.

I think in the past, you had a tendency to shift the blame and avoid owning up to your actions. There is a hint or arrogance, over confidence and egoism here with the Sun reversed, embodying the flaws of Leo when unbalanced. I think you have been through something that forced you to change the way you approach things, distance yourself from some practices or behaviors for example, which brought you to where you are now. This is a very precious knowledge you can rely on and I think it's what brought you to these positive leader qualities and made you wiser and more empathetic while keeping your very radiating and go-getter attributes.

For what you soul is nudging you towards, its really interesting that you get yet again another authority figure with the Emperor, although this time it is reversed. I'm seeing this as a warning to not over do the masculine side of yourself that risk making you too stubborn and rigid, but rather welcome some type of ease and receptiveness. You might be too serious and not pleasure oriented enough so there's definitely a need to balance things a bit, without changing your nature completely. I'm also getting with the Light Bearer that you are called to make a very positive impact on those around you and your community, to bring them Light in the dark through your work, actions, advice or knowledge. And this call would benefit greatly from adding a but of that compassionate and easy going energy i talked about above as it will help you connect with people but also help you stay happy and abundant by not burning yourself out too fast.

For the challenge you will face in this process, I'm strongly getting the need to step away from known religious or magical structures and to carve out your own path. However you will not be spiritually alone in this, but will rather be in direct contact with the spiritual powers, as in you will draw directly from the source in order to materialize and express what needs to be. It comes as a challenge because you are in uncharted territories, it's a lot of pressure and it's hard to know where to go since no one has been here before, or at least not in an obvious and easy to access way.

The good thing is that help is available in two ways. One, you do not have to worry about stepping somewhere you are not meant to, because these places are guarded and you will be facing a closed door if you go too far. So whatever it is, you are guided and protected on your path. The second thing is the wisdom of the Earth itself. I'm getting that you could get great help from the natural world and its spirits and non human inhabitants. You might benefit a lot from looking at natural phenomenon and learning the deeper meaning of them or connect with your local spiritual ecosystem. The Land itself could be a powerful ally too.

For what steps to take forward, you are strongly being called to connect with ancestors, and by that I don't mean solely ancestors or your lineage, but also those who share a connection with you because they walked on your path before you. Strong spirit worker vibe from this pile. This could mean trying to divine with them or honoring them and praying, which will allow them to help you. However, I would just remind you the need to do things in your own way and not simply copying and pasting other people's practices into your own, as we saw it was a very strong message for you. So try to be creative and think outside of the box but do remember that there is tremendous wisdom to be gained from those that came before you.

For the final advice, don't hesitate to connect with your spirit guides and those who are your spiritual home in order to find comfort, security and rest. Yes you are called to stand up for yourself, but you are certainly not alone and it is important to remember and share moments with your loved ones, from this realm and beyond. A second message is also to be careful about your energy levels and make sure you home is a suitable place for that magical and physically. You've got lots to do so take care of yourself and don't hesitate to reach out for help when you are struggling.

PILE 3

MASSIVE DISCLAIMER PLEASE READ I do not want to fear-monger but this reading is very heavy and I'm pretty sure it's only going to apply to some of you. If you do not relate please do not worry and keep scrolling. If you do relate I hope you will find some hope in this. I really hesitated releasing this pile at all but I feel like it's more important to be truthful about the message that I received than making cool readings for tumblr… The message was hammered clearly but, again, I'm pretty sure it's meant for a very small amount of people, if not just one or two. Take care.

Cards: Place of Healing, Creator of Time, the Hanged Man, Archon & Aion, Bailiff, Death, Blood Ancestor, Premonition, 5 of Swords, Magical Temple, 6 of Cups, Knight of Wands, Spirit Guide, Death, Queen of Swords, Shamaness, 2 of Wands, Strength rx

Let's start by looking at where you are currently spiritually.

From your point of view, it might seems like not much is happening and that you are forced to stay still. You are focusing on healing deeply and slowly. Some of you might have been sick recently or going through some type of intense mental or physical form of stress and you are now in the process of rejuvenating yourself, forced to stay where you are because you cannot move further. However, something very important and new is being birthed here. Think as a seed being planted, or even further back, the initial spiritual spark of a seed before it reaches the physical plane. So yeah it might seem like not a whole lot is going on but there is something very powerful at play here that has a lot of transforming potential.

Okay… for the energies surrounding you, you got 3 cards directly referencing Death. It seems some of you are indeed seriously sick at the moment, or taking care of someone who is about to pass onto the other side, or dealing with a very recent loss and in the process of mourning. If that's not the case, worry not that just mean it isn't your pile! If you do relate to this, know that I really empathize with you and we'll see what advice is available to you shortly. Another possibility is that some of you might be working with the spirit of the deceased, or being surrounded by them heavily.

For what you've learned in the past that is relevant to your current situation, you got two cards referencing union and one referencing messaged from above. I really think this pile talks to people who have formed deep bonds with some type of divine or spiritual entity that taught them a lot through messages sent to them. It talks about commitment and a mutually beneficial relationship. Some of you could even be under some form of spiritual contract with these powers. In all cases this pile is quite involved spiritually.

For what you soul is nudging you towards, you got yet other cards referencing death. I think it's either referencing to someone who has passed away or is about to, and in both cases its a great loss for you. You might be called to help them pass to the other side, help them move on and acting like a mediumistic bridge. You might be experiencing premonition regarding this event before hand, or dream about them after the fact. You soul is nudging you to take on the role of a psychopomp and communicate with this deceased person. I think that's something you haven't done before and feel quite worried about but I think you are sort of forced by the circumstances.

For the challenges you will face, i think this whole experience will be very difficult for you because you've lost some type of home in this person and you get reminded of your common memories constantly. You might feel the need to power through that to skip the pain and focus on the task ahead in order to protect yourself from grief. I cannot tell whether its a good or bad thing as everyone processes grief differently, just pay attention to how you react; be patient and gentle with yourself.

The help available is your spirit guides (whatever that means for you) who are here to protect and sooth your soul. You are highly encouraged to reach out to them however you feel comfortable to and call their help. They are here for you in this difficult time and you should not hesitate relying on them.

Steps to take: you will be facing your primordial fear regarding death and endings, and you must take the necessary steps to honor that natural cycle of life. You do seem to have a very special relationship with it though and you are called to step up to that role. You must not hang onto what has been lost for that it is gone, but instead, embrace change with respect and reverence and let things follow their course on the other side. With the Queen of Swords, you are called to embrace this new perspective and the deep changes that come with it. You will need to be sharp with your mind and your intentions and show the way ahead for this soul. Again I'm getting this idea of being between the earth and the sky, like a bridge.

For the final advice, this experience you are or will be going through is a tale old as humanity itself. A very old form of magic. Its a powerful and raw time that will push you to take on a role you might have never considered. Your path is humble but extremely important. It will change the way you see the world and life. Now is not the time to doubt your power and abilities for you have all that's needed to succeed. Those who've left us leave a hole but they are also our strength. I'm getting that you might benefit from reading practices surrounding Death in different culture, or dive deeper into you own. Stories of old can help you navigate this situation greatly.

#pick a card #tarot reading #pac reading #divination #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pac tarot #pick an image #tarot #taroblr #tarot community #soaring wide #soaringwide #soaringwide tarot reading

[trans-xianxian]

the place I worked at before that I had an interview at a few weeks ago was supposed to be doing the second round of interviews this week but I haven't heard from them yet and I'm like. if the place I've worked at before and have applied for an Easier job at won't even hire me then who the fuck will 😭

#like one of my references is literally from this museum!!! #I thought they liked me but I guess there is always a better candidate #I'm starting to get very frustrated lol #and like. unemployment is only enough for me to pay rent and go grocery shopping once #and Barely cover bills depending on how high utilities are #I can't live like this much longer el em ay oh!!!!!! #I just don't get it lol #like I'm so qualified I have years of experience!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #and also its like there's barely any jobs to begin with #and like no matter what only a certain percent of jobs will get back to you #but that amt goes to like. two when the pool is so small #I was just rlly confident that I'd at least get to the second interview phase ans I'm bummed out now lmao #couldn't even make it to a second interview at a place I have worked before and have a reference from. makes you feel kinda silly! #fr job searching makes you feel so degraded its truly evil #idk maybe they'll still reach out #but its like. its 5pm the monday of the week they're doing interviews. so. #ghost posts #text

[frogchiro]

🐙 here!

👀 me making my own plot in my head for a/b/o cod.

imagine being the only omega on the team, except no one knows. and honestly? it wasn’t that hard to hide it in the first place.

always wear scent blockers. mild pills help, but having a lotion to rub on scent glands? makes you practically scentless.

act competitive when necessary, and back down when you know your losses are going to be big.

be caring. make Simon tea in the morning and a small breakfast for those who don’t consume just caffeine in the morning. soap likes to deny his liking for sweets, but make him waffles or cinnamon rolls and he’s on his knees immediately.

smile and be sweet. have happy little conversations with gaz about his latest interests. about the latest conspiracy about the Illuminati or his favorite game he played as a kid.

but not docile. docile is earned through respect. alphas have to earn the right to see you so submissive and pliant.

give Simon small smiles and chuff and play wrestle with soap and Gaz. late nights with price and paperwork. cooking warm meals after long missions.

the only reason anyone began to suspect something wrong was when you got sick.

headcanon that any omega and alpha will begin to give off pheromones when they get sick. it’s a little call out to the pack that you’re sick and you need to be babied and taken care of.

not even the suppressants and the salve can mask the smell of sick omega. It starts with a small twinge. a faintly sour scent that makes soaps nose twitch.

they can barely smell it. but they can see something is wrong from the way you look. bags under your eyes, a slightly ghastly appearance.

the way you move is a big give away. slow and sluggish.

finally it gets to a point where everyone can smell there’s a sick omega somewhere… but where?

in which case price has to wake you up because you were late to training. he was annoyed. a little peeved that you had the audacity to kiss when he had warned you last time not to be late.

last time you were late because you overslept. so this time the captain was going to give you something to startle your day into.

A soured scent fills his nose. telling him that there’s a sick omega and…

sick mate sick mate sick mate protect protect protect

provide provide provide pro-

gosh. price can’t get the sight out of his head. of you tucked so cutely into a small nest of military grade blankets and two pillows. your body radiating heat as you’d nuzzle closer into the pillow you’re holding against your face.

his inner alpha chuffs at such a sweet and docile omega.

maybe having a sick day would be alright… especially with your pack to take care of you.

hello octopus! welcome back! and aww, the boys taking care of their poor sick omega :(( they'd be quite distressed I imagine!

They are the alphas, the providers and protectors and yet it completely slipped under their nose that not only you're sick but also a whole omega too?? Unbelievable >:(

The second they realize your secondary gender and that you're not healthy it sends them into quite a frenzy; they're suddenly overcome with bubbling hormones and instincts they most probably never felt before.

It also means much to them than you could imagine. You being a omega, a sick omega, letting yourself be all vulnerable and open with a pack of alphas? It means you feel comfortable and safe with them, enough to show them your soft and docile side :((

Be ready to be fussed over like crazy, especially by Gaz and Soap, together with you they're the youngest pack members and when they first saw you curled up in your small makeshift nest, stinking up the space with sick unhappy hormones and burning to the touch these poor babies genuinely thought you were dying :<

Luckily Price and Ghost were there to correct them before they could barrel into your nest and nudge you awake; you were sick not dead and the last thing you needed were two hot headed young alphas on you.

When you woke up you were sluggish and slow; the cold did its job and made everything fuzzy when you woke up until you started to regain your senses and noticed that you were no longer cooped up in your tiny room with a few military-issued blankets and hard pillows but in a real big bed filled with blankets, pillows, sweaters and other things that smelled of certain familiar alphas; safe and warm. Judging by the overwhelming smell of the room alone you guessed you were in Price's room, a nice musky and woody smell, undeniably masculine and alpha.

You were still alone so you decided to just go back to sleep and try to sleep of the cold. With a rumbling purr you slowly fell asleep once again, maybe sick days and being the pack's omega wasn't such a bad thing?

#love them #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley #john price #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During your stop at the abandoned building a shootout with the enemy begins. You cross your paths with injured König who needs your help.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

A/N: I'm here to feed you all, because you asked so nicely. ♡ This part contains POV of the Reader and König's. Also, starring Gaz, he deserves more recognition! Y/C ━ Your Codename Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: dark humor, reader is eastern european coded, desc. of blood & injuries, mentions of unalived bodies, sexual pictures taken, perv!König?

Word count: 3.2k oops

The night had fallen quickly. Faster than one might have thought. During the sunset, when the crickets hidden in the tall grass were the only sound, the manhunt began. 

Task Force 141 and KorTac had to stay for the night at the abandoned factory of sorts, near the forest bordering the village and Austrian mountains – a fortress with many rooms, staircases, exits.

You were slowly getting ready for the confrontation with the terrorist group, the one you’ve been “tracking” for the last couple of days. You sat on the second floor, cleaning your M4 rifle while listening to another story of Gaz. Some of the KorTac soldiers were also following the Britishman's captivating telltales. It was then when you heard the first report of strangers passing by through the radio. Then you heard the shooting. 

Everything happened quickly, the situation was getting worse and progressing too fast. How could they sneak up on you like that? The enemy came to you first, this shouldn't have happened.

You stuck to Gaz as you gathered your weapons and began moving towards the staircase. The sounds of gunshots filled the building and the ground surrounding it. Your mind had to stay highly alert, focused on a few simple tasks – push forward, leave the factory and get to the cars. It seemed like there were too many enemy’s forces. 

Well, at least that's what you thought, so it was hard to estimate the numbers.

It wasn’t possible to count the time that had passed since you gathered your rifle and followed Gaz’s lead. With his help and the Captain's instructions you managed to get to the ground floor, two of KorTac soldiers joined you on the way.

Three bodies lay limp in a puddle of blood underneath them, corpse’s hand gripping their rifles tightly. You took a quick look at their vests, or rather lack of them, and only then you were sure.

━ He hired mercenaries. ━ You stated quietly to your companion, having in mind the man liable for the terrorist group, as Kyle carefully peeked through the closest corner. 

━ Cannon fodder. 

His harsh answer was followed by a dead silence. Even the crickets went quiet as something loomed in the air. 

━ Gaz, Y/C, still on the way? ━ Ghost’s voice called out for the two of you through the radio. 

━ Almost there, sir. ━ Dark skinned sergeant stated, having an eye on the meeting point ahead of him. 

Gaz would take the right side of the van, two KorTac soldiers would worry about the left, while you had an eye on your backs. Seemed easy, seemed to be a quick job. 

When all of you got closer to the vehicle, holding your weapons high and looking out for any danger, something rolled down on the ground. Almost like a metal bin got under the car’s chassis. 

━ Grenade! 

There was too little time to react. Your legs pushed off the ground with all of their strength, your body directed at the building. However, you weren’t fast enough. So were not your companions.

Explosion illuminated the area and the fire consumed the military van in its flames. The recoil threw you a few meters away from the place of outbreak, knocking the air out of your lungs.

The squeak. 

That fucking squeak. 

The agonizing sound was probably the only noise you could hear at the moment as you saw the tongues of fire dancing in the corner of your eye. Right then, your body was reacting and operating on its own. 

Some barely palpable thuds made you realize you lied with your cheek in the gravel and dirt. 

You didn’t know exactly when you grabbed the M4 into both hands or when you stood up on your shaking legs, slowly heading inside the building again. You cursed in your native language, when your head hurt like it would explode on its own. 

There was an exchange of bullets somewhere near you, but still, dazed you couldn’t precisely determine – where and how close.  You continued to run towards the building bent in half. 

Then suddenly you felt a strong grip tightening around your vest’s strap on the shoulder. A pull so powerful that made you turn around and fall onto the brick wall behind your back. 

━ Gaz? ━ You heard the ringing of your own voice, echoing inside of your eardrums. Wait, did you even say his name out loud? Maybe you just imagined you did?

When your back clung tightly against the cold wall (as much as it could, due to your gear), you tried to take a deep breath in. 

First, then the second one. A cold, night breeze filled your nose. Only then you felt like you finally could think clearly again. 

━ Stay close. We’re moving. ━ The strong accent helped you realize it was König who took you out of the ambush. Now that you knew that, everything made sense – the force he pulled you with? Yeah, the Austrian colonel was like a wild bear.  

Quickly you checked your rifle and reloaded it. Your head nodded towards the colonel and he began clearing the way to the nearby staircase. You were going up again, side by side with an Austrian soldier. Well, that probably wasn’t the image of you that your grandparents had in mind. 

You were supporting him from his behind, constantly checking the back. The adrenaline from the explosion made you feel painful tension in each limb. It felt like muscle sores after a rough day at the gym. Or sparring session with Ghost.

There was no option to go back and search for Gaz or two KorTac soldiers. If they survived the explosion, they probably escaped into the forest and were fine. Right?

With each powerful yet quiet step he took, another enemy’s soldier got terminated. With your help König cleared the pathway and led the two of you into a more secluded area. A room, your hideout.

You pushed some old, wooden furniture resembling a cabinet over the doors, so no one uninvited entered. You and the colonel had bored up to wait for the reinforcements. The hooded soldier took a peek through the cracked window as you squeezed the radio’s button.

━ Bravo 0-7, do you copy? 

Thankfully the silence didn’t last long.

━ Y/C ━ Ghost spoke through the radio. Only you knew that he was in distress, because of his voice. Him and Price probably heard the blast from the other part of the building. ━ Fuckin’ Christ, what was that?

━ They blew up the car. Gaz and I got separated near the tree line, I don’t know where he is. ━ You explained as simply as possible. Eventually your eyes noticed the drops of blood on the old floor. It was fresh. Were you bleeding? 

━ Where are you? 

Your boyfriend’s voice ripped you out of the deep thoughts. And at that point you understood that it wasn’t you, who was bleeding. 

━ In the left wing, second floor. Doors locked. Colonel König saved me from the fire. He’s with me.

Austrian man thanked the fucking heavens he had his face covered by the dark hood. Because the moment you called out his name, his heart skipped a beat. Your pretty eyes under the long eyelashes were locked on him. 

━ Stay there until we arrive. Over and out. 

When Ghost's voice vanished into thin air, there was a moment of silence between the two of you. He could feel how warm it got in there. Because it was a hot, summer night, right? 

━ You’re bleeding ━ you acknowledged, pointing his left thigh. ━ It’s your happy day, colonel. You got stuck with a medic. Sit down and let me see. 

Oh, it was a happy day for König for more than the reason he came across a medic while in need.

Because he came across you. 

━ I don’t think it’s an emergency, schatz. 

━ Your pants are soaked with blood. Let me see. 

You put down the weapon and reached out to grab his. He obediently gave you his rifle and sat down near the wall, slowly sliding on its surface. When the emotions began to cool down, his mind began to race. How could he let that happen? How could he, the king, let the bullet of some mercenary damage him? 

You kneeled next to the colonel and placed the “first-aid” bag on the floor. At first you tried to take a look at his wound, but a gap the size of a bullet was just too small. 

━ I have to slightly incise the pants, I can’t see th–

━ Ja, it’s okay. 

König said in a single breath, doing everything in his power not to stare at you for too long. But it was impossible. The way your hands gently inspected the wounded area. The same palms which not so long ago were squeezing the M4 rifle until the knuckles turned white. The same fingers that were holding a child so cautiously a few hours ago. 

You grabbed the material of his beige pants and slightly tore the opening. 

Unknowingly you tilted your head to the side, assessing the situation. König now knew that he was right. Your touch was as gentle as he had imagined it to be.

━ Hm, I won’t lie, this doesn’t look good ━ you retraced your hands from his leg and began preparing the essential tools. ━ The bullet didn’t hit the artery or veins, but it’s stuck in your muscle. I have to take it out and stop the bleeding, sir. 

━ It’s alright, I’m in the good hands, ärztin.

━ I don’t know what that mean, sir. ━ You confessed, a polite smile twisting your dusted cheeks, when you heard unknown German word.

Did he make you blush or was he dreaming? If the colonel was a believer, he would swear to the God he saw you blushing. 

━ A doctor. You’ll learn more German during our… ━ now it was him, searching the right word ━ cooperation, would you like that? 

His blue eyes roamed over your expressions, changing during the seconds passing by. It was bold of him to ask, too fucking bold perhaps. But he had you within his reach, right under his nose. He couldn’t let you slip so easily. 

━ That would be useful, thank you. Now, brace yourself. Take a breath in.

With a pair of gloves you dipped your pointing finger into the wound and scooped the bullet out in an impressive timing.  

━ Scheiße! ━ Colonel cursed, clenching his teeth. During his military career he got shot, burned, bones broken, skin cut, hurt too many times to count. Nonetheless, it hurt like a bitch each time he got his wounds patched. 

━ I know, I’m sorry, sir. I’m almost finishing. 

You took a brand new packaging of gauze and unwrapped it. Swiftly, you inserted the sterile material into the shallow wound with your slender fingers, until the crimson liquid stopped pouring all over his thigh and crotch. 

━ Don’t apologize, schatz. You’re doing a good job here. 

It was a second, less perhaps, but you looked up at the colonel when he praised your work. And under that hood? He had the smuggest grin ever. 

Finally, you tapped the outer side of his thigh, asking him to slightly raise the limb, so you could wrap a bandage around it. You leaned over his lap, two of your hands brushing against his massive legs. 

The voices, the fucking voices, made of him a real disrupted man. 

König had this impossibly stupid idea of sticking his head out just to get shot, so you could patch him up. You would be his favorite nurse and caretaker. If you happened to find yourself in his arms, we would never let you go. 

━ All done. There’s no need to cut the leg off, sir. ━ You jokingly said, leaning back on your knees. The dark humor and sarcastic jokes were your favorite. 

His thigh was bandaged, the bleeding stopped, but he needed a stiching, which you could not perform in the middle of a shooting scene. The big man will survive until then. 

━ Oh, that’s a good news, doctor. Thank you. 

His bright eyes loomed over your figure – neatly sitting on your own knees, clean hands (as you took the bloodied gloves off) resting on the thighs, head facing him. A single strand of your hair that slipped from the braid was stuck to your slightly sweaty forehead.

━ Come here ━ he told you, curling his pointing and middle finger in your direction. The gesture itself meant he wanted you to come closer. So you did, barely narrowing your brows. ━ You have soot all over your face. ━ His giant palm reached your cheek and rubbed the dust and dirt away.

König was used to most of his colleges, if not all of them, being much smaller than him. But it was the size difference between you and him that had his stomach curling with excitement. 

━ Danke [ger.: thanks].

━ Bitte [ger.: please]. 

The moment you two shared was interrupted by the loud steps coming towards the room you’ve been hiding. Without second thoughts, you helped the big bear stand up and handed him a rifle. You quickly pointed at the door and you waited. 

You sucked a breath in. Hold. 

━ Y/C! 

━ Here, sir! ━ You stated, releasing the air with a loud sigh. 

The familiar voice of Captain Price eased the tension. There was no need to continue fighting. Both you and König lowered the weapons and the colonel moved the cabinet aside allowing the team to open the doors.

And there was a group of your saviors – Price and lieutenant Riley at the front. Few soldiers in dark suits followed behind them.

Captain of TF 141 moved aside to allow you to leave the small, secluded area. All of you gathered in the corridor, before leaving the building. 

━ Thanks for saving our girl. ━ Price said in a lower tone to the colonel. To the Austrian man who outstanded everyone else in the room.  

━ We’re a team on this one, aren’t we? 

König’s blue eyes met the cold, death stare of lieutenant Riley. It didn’t sit right with Britishman that he was alone with her. With his girl. Simon didn’t care about the context of the situation, he had a childish problem with the colonel of KorTac himself. It was about his attitude towards you.

Perhaps you didn’t notice that and if you did, you saw nothing bad in König’s behavior. But the lieutenant did and it gave him weird feelings. 

━ Is Gaz okay? ━ You asked Ghost full of concerns, because Kyle wasn’t present with the rest of the team. 

━ Slightly cooked, but he’ll be fine. 

“Shit” you thought. First, there was a little accident involving Soap and broken ribs and now poor, smoked Gaz. Your teammates hadn’t have much luck lately. 

Perhaps, if not König saving your ass, you’d be wounded badly too. 

━ Medevac took care of him ━ Price meddled between you and lieutenant, wanting all of you to gather up and move. ━ We’re headin’ back to regroup, those bastards are gettin’ on my nerves. Also, Laswell’s on the line, waitin’ for report. 

His statement was followed by a quick ‘yes, sir’ and the group of survivors moved through the now secured area. König talked with one of his sergeants, trying to assess how many people he lost that day. 

Ghost was right behind you all this time, almost like a shadow you cast yourself. But you loved your grumpy shadow with your whole heart. 

Without any more issues you got to the untouched by the gunfire cars and left the abandoned factory behind. You took the last glimpse at the building and the lifeless bodies laying around the area through the vehicle’s window. 

It was ironic, as a medic you were supposed to save lives, not to end them. And yet, you were surrounded by bones and corpses. 

When you came back to the base – a part of the building KorTac company lent to Task Force 141, most of you were dismissed to get some rest before the departure at noon. But not the colonel of KorTac.

The Austrian man visited the doctor who stitched his wound up. Medic praised how well the bleeding was stopped, but König wasn’t surprised at all – he saw how skillful your hands were. 

Only if he could feel them on his skin again. Such delicate fingertips sneaking under his shirt, running over his muscles and old scars. But for now, it was only his imagination giving him the wrong ideas. 

You were taken, ja? It was wrong to want you for himself. 

After the stitching, he had to fill out some documents for his superiors – those on a computer and on paper. It wasn’t much, but it took around an hour or hour and a half. When he was finally done, König walked through the empty hallways towards his own quarters.

He locked the room from the inside and neatly put his combat shoes near the entrance. At least he could have some rest. Or so he thought. 

His phone’s screen illuminated the dark room as a notification popped up. The number was unknown. But the moment König tapped with his finger to read the message, he instantly knew who it was from.

His stomach dropped and his jaw slightly opened. The message was a picture with a signature saying “see, how well she’s taken care of?”. 

The photo was a visual of your bare upper half pressed against the masculine torso in the way that covered most of your breasts. Your hand was splayed over Ghost’s chest as his muscular arm hugged you from behind, pulling closer. In bed.

The frame did not catch the lieutenant's face at all, but it showed your flushed (or maybe rather: fucked out) face and eyes pressed shut. You still had the remains of dirt on your face, that’s why König  knew it’s a recent photo.

The Colonel could not help, but feel how his pants got uncomfortably tighter than before as he sat down on his bed. 

König felt the throbbing of his heartbeat in his ears and he pulled the hem of his hood over his nose. He had to breathe. “Take a deep breath, soldat” he kept telling himself.

But his hand unbuckled the belt and trousers on its own and when his heavy cock sprung free from its confinement, König knew there was no way he could stop now. 

He began to pump his fist fast, biting on his lower lip, blue eyes glued to the dirty picture of you on his phone. The Austrian man would never get rid of that photo. Never.

Oh, how he wished it was you who helped him calm down after such a mission. 

Ghost could never imagine that his text message would bring the opposite outcome of what he intended – to scare the colonel away.

It only fed König's delusions. 

TAG LIST: (apologies if I missed someone) @nijiru @squidsal @thefightingdragon @emily-roberts @btszn @ladymacbeth1987 @kingjulian0o9 @leonasbunny @bladedriot

A/N: Obviously the ending was heavily inspired by this imagine → | X |, although I planned it to be a picture before. I can't get enough of perv!König and protective!Ghost. OhmyLord~ Thank you for all your notes, reblogs and nice comments! It means a lot to me! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#reader insert #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #könig cod #konig cod #konig #könig #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #simon riley x reader

[wonwoonlight]

my way to you:

of dreams and moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life // theyre too fucking in love its sickening // wedding talks

➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing, they love each other so much im just projecting bc i want this!!!! D:

➝ word count: 8k~

A/N: happy new year! a little something from me to any of you who might remember this couple <3 i miss them and i love them sm. tell me if you enjoy this?

my way to you masterlist

[✾✾✾]

You and Wonwoo don't want a big wedding.

Yes, you do want the extravagant, over the top wedding because you've always liked celebrations and you're not gonna miss out on the celebration between you and Wonwoo. But you don't want it to be a big one with a bazillion people you don’t even recognize: just an intimate one with your close friends and family.

Naturally, you can't always get what you want.

You also understand why both of your parents insist on having a big one. In a world where your prestige matters more than anything, a wedding between the youngest son of the Jeons and the only heir of the Yoons simply can’t be anything but more than perfect. The biggest, most perfect celebration of the century, if possible. It needs to be something that the word ‘grandeur’ can’t even comprehend because it’s out of its league.

So you settle for a middle ground.

“Okay.” You say as your mother and Mrs. Jeon brief you on the wedding concepts they have come up with. You don’t even listen to half the things they said, because you know they would do better than you anyway. They wouldn’t pick anything not to your standard, and while some details you might not agree with, you believe the whole wedding would be perfect even without your input.

“Dear…” Your mom starts, hesitates a little because she doesn’t want you to think they’re pushing you into this. “We… We would like your opinion on this, you know? You’re a planner yourself, we'd understand if you have other thoughts regarding this.”

“Mom…” You bite back a sigh, not wanting her to think you're tired of her. The relationship between you and your parents are getting better ever since, and even though it's been almost two years since that incident, all three of you are still trying.

It's a long time coming, and while the relationship is better, it's still not what you'd call harmonious nor ideal.

It's okay though. You have your faults and they have theirs. It's not going to be easy to change the dynamics of your family, but you're glad all of you have recognized that some things need to be changed and the three of you have been putting in efforts albeit the sweet time you're all taking.

Understandable. It's never easy to change a habit and the way you treat people--even your own family.

“I simply think you and auntie will do a better job than I am.” You say in what you wish to be a gentle tone. You don't want to come off like you're complaining, but you can't be faulted for not being too enthusiastic because you know from the beginning that your wedding wouldn't be your dream wedding.

It's okay, though. You're not complaining–it's just a thought you keep to your own self and you really are grateful that your mom and Mrs. Jeon seem to be very excited about the whole thing. After all, you're an only child and Mrs. Jeon doesn't have another child's wedding she's going to be a part of.

When you and Wonwoo announced that you're engaged, the two women cried so much that your father, the man who barely blinked even during a car accident he found himself in, panicked. 

It was quite funny, if you're being completely honest. But since then, you could tell that they both are more excited about the wedding ceremony than you are.

And while there's a small voice inside you that's still disappointed because you're not going to have your dream wedding, you're genuinely happy that the two women who will mostly be in charge of it are, well, very happy about it.

You can give them this.

“It's your celebration, too.” You give them a small, genuine smile. And even though they wince a bit at what you might be implying, you don't mean anything bad, so you correct yourself before they get the wrong idea. “I understand, Mom. We kind of have no choice but to make it big, and it's okay. I told you I've accepted it. We didn't tell you about our wish to make it small to guilt trip you and Auntie. It's just something me and Wonwoo have talked about but it's okay. It's really okay. Just consider it silly musings on our part?”

Your mom, ever since the whole missing accident, has gotten very soft, too.

Well, either that or you simply haven't spent enough time with her before to be aware of her emotional tendency.

“Oh my–why… why are you crying?!” You panic, looking at Mrs. Jeon who seems to know exactly why your mom is crying.

“It’s just…” She clears her throat and composes herself, softly apologizes for the sudden emotional burst. “When… did you grow this mature?”

Feeling awkward, you're not sure how to answer that. You're not the most talkative in front of your parents, and sentimental talks like this are the worst thing ever because, as much as you appreciate it, you never know how to respond to them.

Not that you ever had to until now.

She didn't become like this right after that incident, but once the wedding planning begins, you find yourself spending a lot of time with her (and Mrs. Jeon, of course, but you've always been more comfortable with her than your mom) and that's when she becomes more open with you.

“Uhh…” You turn to Mrs. Jeon in desperation, asking for her help with your eyes. She simply smiles though and mouths you not to worry.

The wedding discussion continues for a little after that, but after you convince them that you're really giving them full control and they can proceed with anything while you'll simply join the discussion from time to time and for the final decisions, they know that there's no use trying to change your mind.

At least you're not completely abandoning the discussion, simply prefer to not be included in it intensely.

You go home (read: Wonwoo's penthouse) after that, and it's thirty minutes later that Wonwoo also returns, finding you unmoving on the couch, seemingly deep in your thoughts.

“Hey, princess.” He greets you, which you return with both of your arms extending towards him. He chuckles and happily pulls you into a hug, maneuvers the both of you so you're sitting on his lap and you just melt into his chest. “Long day?”

“Met Mom and Auntie for the wedding prep discussion.”

Wonwoo actually laughs, and you pout at him and pretend to get away only for him to tighten his arms around you.

“Did they give you a hard time?”

“Just… I don't know.”

He hums as he takes in your face; you don't look like you're annoyed, just a little tired and somewhat disoriented. You're probably still deep in your head and need more time before you're able to tell him.

“I'll wash up, then dinner, and we can talk about it later?”

You look up and stare at him for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts before you nod and peck his lips.

“You know me too well.” You kiss his cheek after that. “I'll order some Thai food?”

“Anything you want, my princess.” He teases you and avoids your punch just in time because he knows you and your violence tendency when it comes to that particular pet name paired with a certain tone of his.

An hour and a dinner later, you found yourself cuddled up on Wonwoo's bed–at this point your bed because you rarely go back to your place anyway and you've basically moved in with him the moment you got together–his fingers playing with your hair as you try to look for something on YouTube as a background noise to play on his TV.

You take your time, which Wonwoo doesn't complain about. He never does. He knows you too much to complain about anything that you do at this point, not that he has much to complain about to begin with. God, he’s too whipped it doesn’t make sense. 

“I told Mom that I don't want to get too involved in the wedding prep.”

“Yeah?” He nudges you to continue, already aware of how you feel about the wedding preparation talks. “And what did she say about that?”

“She's not too happy, I reckon. But not in an angry way; I guess she and Auntie want me to be fully involved. But…”

“You're not enthusiastic because it's not gonna be your dream wedding anyway?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, in which Wonwoo can easily detect the guilt. “But Iike… I'm really grateful for them, Won. I really am. They seem happier and much more excited than I am planning the wedding, so I thought: why not just let them plan the whole thing? Plus it's not going to be easy to pretend to be invested in it all the time. I know I'm going to sound so spoiled and ungrateful but… I just want to get married to you surrounded by people who matter, you know?”

Wonwoo holds back a grin, still finding the idea of the two of you actually getting married to be surreal. He literally proposed to you again even if you've already proposed under the privacy of your hotel room because you deserve it. Obviously, you say yes. And yet, when anyone mentions your wedding and marriage, Wonwoo still can't believe it and he's very giddy inside.

“I know, love.” He caresses your hair and rests his cheek on top of your head. He presses his lip together as the gears in his mind turn, thinking if there's anything he could do to help. “You're right about them being excited, though. Dad says it's the only thing Mom talks about now.”

“Right?” Your smile is genuine, that much he can obviously tell. “That's why I thought I'd just let them do the whole thing. It's going to be their last chance to do it, anyway. After me and you, they probably won't be able to do this anymore.”

Wonwoo hums, but you're seemingly not done yet.

“Unless we divorce and you decide to remarry, I guess.”

“What the fuck?” He curses out of shock, not expecting those words to come out of you, and you laugh heartily at how scandalized he looks. “Why would you say something like that?”

You can't stop giggling, because Wonwoo rarely curses and when he does it's usually out of frustration that's been piling up. It sounds so childish to laugh over something like this, but you just can't seem to stop laughing despite the mock offense on his face.

Wonwoo pushes your cheeks together with his palms, making your lips purse like a duck, as he narrows his eyes at you.

“You do not speak like that, okay?” He reminds you seriously. “Don’t even joke about breaking up with me. You’re stuck with me, marriage or not.”

You scrunch your nose, and after struggling for a while, Wonwoo finally releases you and you grin at him as your arms wrap around his neck.

“You talk like it’s a bad thing.” You whisper shyly with a kiss to his cheek. “It would be my pleasure to be stuck with you.”

“Good.” He states shamelessly and it’s his turn to drop a kiss on top of your head. He’s getting brazen like that when it’s the two of you, which is a good thing because he’s now much more open to expressing himself instead of holding in whatever he’s feeling–good or bad.

Being with Wonwoo romantically for almost two years now, you find that there is still stuff that you don’t know about each other; that you still have a lot to learn and you’re happy to learn every single thing about him. You bicker quite often, because you’re the type to bring things to the surface as soon as possible while Wonwoo tends to bury them first and only uncover them later when it becomes a problem.

You’ve both learned how to take a middle ground for each other.

“Tell me about your dream wedding, then.” He says as you lay together, ready for bed. “I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about it after Jinyoung’s wedding.”

“You really want to listen to me talk about this?” Skepticism fills your voice and you look up only to see him shrug.

“Amuse me. I want to know what kind of wedding you actually want.”

You ponder for a bit, not actually having a detailed image of how you want it to be. During Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, you have a lot of opinions on what to do and what not to do based on his ceremony, but, funnily enough, you’ve never really thought about what your wedding would look like.

Having been the project manager for Yoon Holdings’ functions for years and now arranging Daisy Studio’s events and projects, you’re used to listening to what the other party wants and bringing them to life.

But to have what you want brought to life…?

“Do you not actually know?”

“It’s not that.” You whine and sit straight. “I just don’t know exactly the details of what I want.”

Wonwoo laughs at this, and he hugs you back into his arms before he lets you go to follow your posture. “It doesn’t have to be detailed, love. Just tell me what you have in mind right now?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve never talked about this with Wonwoo. Yes, you’ve mentioned some of your preferences during Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, but to actually talk about your dream wedding…? On top of you not having a real idea about what you want it to be, it just doesn’t occur to you to talk about it to him.

“Well, I want it to be an intimate one. Just our… main family? Maybe close cousins. And then Chaeyoung, of course. Soonyoung, obviously. Jennie will probably come, I don’t mind her being invited.”

“And that’s it?”

“Don’t tease me.” You glare at him. “I know I don’t have a lot of friends. You’re one of them.”

“Wow. Getting friendzoned, aren’t I?”

You look at him in warning once again, and he knows to drop it and he ushers you to return to his arms with a laugh. And when you settle on his shoulder, he tells you to continue which you find a hard time answering.

“I want the theme to be… celestial. I don’t know. I’ve always liked the stars and the moons, you know that, right? I definitely don’t want it to be an outdoor wedding. Hmmm…”

“Tell you what,” he cuts your musing. “Tell me everytime it comes up in your head?”

“Everytime?”

“Everytime.”

You grin at him playfully, settling inside the blanket to ready yourself for bed now that you don’t have to talk about your dream wedding anymore. You were actually excited to talk about it with Wonwoo of all people, and you were a little afraid if you don’t talk about it now, the topic wouldn’t come up again and you’d miss an opportunity to talk about it with him.

“Don’t complain once I do that everytime, mister.” You playfully wiggle your finger at him.

“I will never.” He smiles, and your heart melts once again and you didn’t even know it was still possible for you to fall for his smile when you see it everyday. “Now go to bed and have a good night, okay?”

“Alright. Night, Won.”

You dream of a wedding beneath the moonlight with no one but you and him.

[✾✾✾]

[sent a picture]

Soooo pretty right? But it- still a little outdoory for me

Won🤍: How is it not gonna be outdoor-y if it's a glass house, princess?

Shut up

You told me to tell you everytime!!!

I didnt do this so u would get smart w me😠

Won🤍: Alright, alright. Sorry.

Won🤍: So which part of it did you like?

All the flowers and the glass ceiling 🥹

Just look at them ugh

[✾✾✾]

“Hey. Sorry, I was in a meeting.” Wonwoo calls you back immediately after he got back to his office, noticing a miss call from you and a text with a single picture attached with no other message. “Anything happened?”

“Ooh, the one with SVT Inc.?” You recall him telling you last night. “How did it go?”

“It went better than I expected. I'll tell you at home. What's up?”

You hum from the other side of the call before answering. “Umm. I was trying this new fine dining with Chaeyoung and their table decorations are to die for. Like. For real.”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smiles, already knowing where this is going. “Tell me about it.”

The both of you know Wonwoo is bad when it comes to design; that you could be explaining things in the easiest way possible for people to imagine and Wonwoo would still not get it unless you show him a picture, which you did. Still, he doesn't actually have the eyes for them and he couldn't really tell what matches with what and what do you exactly mean by “the colors seamlessly blending with each other”. 

But you like talking to Wonwoo and Wonwoo likes listening to you, so the conversation goes.

“Anyway, I just wanna say how pretty it was.” You conclude almost sheepishly. “But you told me to tell you everytime!!”

“I did.” He laughs through the phone, his posture relaxes more and more the longer he talks to you. It's almost like the tension from the day all dissipating into thin air just through your presence. “And I'm not complaining, am I?”

“Alright. See you at home?”

“See you at home.”

[✾✾✾]

“Oh my… look at that.” You sit up, a little in awe at the scene in front of you. You and Wonwoo are watching a movie together, some random movie on Netflix that you don't even remember the title of. But a wedding scene is playing out and you can't help but gasp at the beauty of it all. It's not entirely possible for an actual event to look like that, it's not practical and it's really just pretty.

Wonwoo hums and proceeds to do the same thing he always does, asks about which part you prefer from this wedding scene and listens to you talk about the technicality of it all and the details that you loved on the scene in front of you.

He never cuts you off as you talk about everything at once, and only comments once you pause or when you ask for his opinion. You don't mind this, because you know his silence doesn't mean he's not paying attention.

“Huh.” You suddenly stop mid sentence and turn to Wonwoo with furrowed brows, and he tilts his head in confusion. “What's your dream wedding?”

Wonwoo blinks, never expecting this question. He ponders for a few seconds as you wait patiently, now leaning on the sofa and never taking your eyes off him.

Your eyes are full of anticipation as he finally looks up and smiles at you, his arm moves from his lap to your shoulder and pulls you close to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“With you as the bride.”

You’ve never cried faster in your life before.

[✾✾✾]

The wedding is in three months and, decoration wise, everything is almost settled.

“What do you think about this?”

“Hmmh. I like them. But would you mind changing the shade of the tablecloths to a slightly darker one? It would fit better with the overall ambiance of the hall decorations.”

“Of course!” Your mom happily agrees, her assistant taking notes of everything next to her. Mrs. Jeon agrees too, and you think they are just content with the fact that you have an opinion you don't mind sharing. It's always like this everytime you open your mouth and ask if it's okay to change some things, they would just agree without much fight and proceed with your opinions.

You think it's probably their way of compensating, still feeling bad for not being able to give you your dream wedding even though they've toned down on the apologetic look, which you greatly appreciate. On the contrary, they look more energetic these days, which you might guess has to do with the fact that the wedding is so close by at this point.

“What are you doing after this?” You ask once the discussion ends, your mom's assistant already back to her office.

“We want to try this new tea shop in Gangnam, actually. Want to join us?” 

“Oh, the one Mrs. Song has just opened?”

“Yeah. She's been asking me to go but I didn't have the time. So I thought I'd just go with Mrs. Jeon here.”

“I see. Do you have time for dinner with me and Wonwoo after that?”

“Of course!” Your mom says a little too quickly, in which you share a look with Mrs. Jeon and laugh at her embarrassed expression. It's then that you realize you've never really invited her to meals and have only shared meals together when it's a formal occasion or when you're over at the family house.

It's sad, if you really think about it. But you've decided not to dwell on your past relationship with your parents anymore. It won't do you any good, and now that you know what to do, that's more than enough.

“Give me or Wonwoo a call when you're done?”

“Sure thing, dear. We'll see you at dinner?”

“Do invite Father & Uncle if they're available, we don't mind.”

Your mom looks like she's about to cry at this point, another thing you still have no idea how to react to. Though you awkwardly smile at Mrs. Jeon and quietly ask for help with your eyes yet again. And as always, she comes to the rescue, taking your mom by the arm and tells you goodbye before she actually cries.

It's hours later that you see her and Mrs. Jeon again in a Japanese restaurant, a craving you've been having since last week. You and Wonwoo arrive first, your mothers not long after.

“Feels like I haven't seen you in so long, son.” His mom greets him as she sits down on the seat opposite of her son. “Drop by the house soon?”

“It’s been busy, sorry. But I’ll make sure to drop by, Mom.” He nods to your mom in greeting, then asks them about what they were doing prior and if they had fun.

“Yeah, how was the tea shop?” You join in, dropping the menu on the table now that you've decided what to order.

“It was better than I expected.” Your mom starts. “You should go some time and try their scones. You like them, don't you?”

You actually do. And you think that's the first time your mom ever says something like this to you and gets it right. A lot of firsts today, but you're accepting them with open arms and refuse to think about them too much.

“I will, mom.” You smile. “Father and Mr. Jeon couldn't make it?”

Your mom nods with a sorry smile, and you shrug before you tell them not to worry about it. After you order, the wedding talk starts once again, this time about the cake and menu, as you wait for the food to come.

As usual, Wonwoo listens and doesn't talk much, because he's gotten a lot of updates from you already and has pretty much told you about his preferences if any.

“You'll both be present for the cake tasting next week, right?”

“Yes, Mom, don't worry. I'll actually be there for once.” He grins cheekily. “We actually invited you for dinner because of that: to thank you for taking care of our wedding. It must’ve taken a lot of your time and energy.”

“Yes, I’m sorry we couldn’t really participate more and if you feel like we’re making you do everything, but we’re really thankful you’re doing all of this.” You add.

“Nonsense. We’re happy to do it for you guys. Don’t be sorry, alright? We’re the ones who are sorry we couldn’t make it your dream wedding but–”

You whine, something that your mom hasn’t really seen a lot of, and she smiles to herself at that, a reminder of how you used to be as a kid and the times she missed as you grow up.

“Stop it, Mom. I told you it’s okay. I’m already beyond grateful that you’re doing all the wedding prep, asking for my dream wedding is just too much. Please, stop feeling guilty. I'm not that spoiled, I promise you.”

Knowing you’d rather change the topic, Mrs. Jeon turns to her son. “You should've stopped by every now and then, too. Why would you make your fiancée do everything?”

“She knows what I like, Mom.” He nudges you softly, to which both mom laughs. “She knows what I want for our wedding.”

With you as the bride.

The words ring once again in your head, and you bite your lip to contain the stupid smile threatening to bloom. How can he still make your heart flutter like never before after all this time? You look down to your phone to hide your smile, pretending to answer messages you don’t really care about. 

“By the way, about what you asked for yesterday…”

Wonwoo looks at both women wide-eyed and shakes his head just enough time for you not to notice.

“Huh? You asked Auntie for something?” You try to rejoin the conversation, putting your phone back into your purse. 

“Yeah. Remember that meat pie Mom used to make when we were in university? I was just craving for them.” He makes up something on the spot, which his mom nods at, adding that she's making sure if it's okay to make them next week.

“Ooooh! Yeah I remember them! Gosh, now that you say it, it's been long since we had them, huh? Why didn't you tell me you asked Auntie for some?”

“Must've passed my mind.” He smiles sheepishly, glancing at the women across him sharing a quiet laugh. Just in time, the beverage you order comes in and the topic stops there and moves to another thing.

Blissfully unaware, you miss the knowing glances shared between the three parties of the table, too busy raving on the pretty cocktails they're serving you.

[✾✾✾]

“Do you want to come to my wedding dress fitting?” You ask one night in the middle of your skin care routine, Wonwoo scrolling on his phone on his bed.

“Isn't that a thing? Not to let the groom see their bride on the wedding dress?”

A sudden silence blankets the room, and you two stare at each other like some kind of realization hits at the same time. That you’re really getting married to each other.

That you’re his bride and he’s your groom.

Wonwoo jumps in panic when he sees you tear up, but you cover your face in embarrassment and tell him to go away instead. Wonwoo laughs as he relaxes, though he engulfs you in a hug despite your whine. Your arms hug him back though, and you tighten your arms like he’d let go.

“We’re really getting married, huh?” He whispers against your head, to which you nod and sniffle at, still trying to calm yourself down. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. We’re really getting married, aren’t we?”

“Getting cold feet?” He asks jokingly, but your answer is short and firm, making his heart beats louder than he thinks possible.

“Never.”

You stay like that for a bit, until it occurs to you that Wonwoo hasn’t replied to your question so you ask him again.

“I’ll pass.” He decides, wanting to spare himself the heart attack he would get seeing you in a wedding dress. There’s a chance he would faint anyway, but he’d rather not have several fainting episodes before the wedding. “You can send me pictures if you want? Or I don’t mind being surprised too, whatever you feel like at the time, okay?”

“Hmmmkay. I’ll see when it happens then.”

“You’re going to do a fitting for the cocktail dress too, right? Did you say Jennie helped with the designs for that?”

“Yeah. Mr. Jang and Jennie collaborated for the cocktail dress, I think they made two or three even though I told them one would be enough. But, well, I can always use the cocktail dress for other functions so it’s okay.”

“You’re most excited about this, aren’t you?”

You nod happily, finally getting out of his hold to grin at him. Your eyes are twinkling like a child in a toyshop. “You know I love my dresses. Jennie showed me some of the final sketches before, and apparently they’re almost done, just need to make sure that my size hasn’t changed. But she wouldn’t let me see the dresses because she wants me to just see it with my own eyes.”

His phone pings, which cues him to let go of you to let you finish your skin care routine then checks his notifications, pressing his lips together to hide his smile.

Park Chaeyoung : One is enough right???

Park Chaeyoung : How can I convince her though?  

Just discuss with Jennie and Mr. Jang. They probably knew which one would look best on her, too. 

Also, you’re her closest friend. You would know, I’m sure.

Park Chaeyoung : I hate you😭😭😭

Park Chaeyoung : This is too much of a responsibility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know it’s for her, though.

Park Chaeyoung : I still hate you

Park Chaeyoung : Be thankful I know how much she loves you!!

Thanks.

By the way, the YSL bag that  you said was out of stock in every store in the country is being delivered to your place. Mr. Lee is delivering it to you himself, so let him up.

Park Chaeyoung : Perhaps I like you a little 

[✾✾✾]

Yoon Jeonghan : were all ready on my side

Joshua Hong : im abt 95% done!!! 

Joshua Hong : so all shud be ok and finish on time

Thanks guys.

You've worked hard.

Would it be okay for me to go and check a day before?

Joshua Hong : sure!!!!

Yoon Jeonghan : just say when you go

Yoon Jeonghan : ill drag her smwhere so she wont get suspicious

[✾✾✾]

Kwon Soonyoung sent a picture

Kwon Soonyoung : this ok?

Great.

Send your sister my greetings. 

[✾✾✾]

Kim Jennie : Oh. You're so going to die ;)

???????????????

[✾✾✾]

“Everyone's so busy these days…” You complain over lunch, eating take outs in Wonwoo's office after his meeting because you're craving for some katsu place nearby. “You're busy. Chaeng’s busy. Jeonghan's busy. Shua's busy. Even Soonyoung is busy. What are you all even up to?”

He tenses a little, then apologizes and says perhaps it's just that time of the year. The year is about to end, and even though it's still the middle of October, things are already picking up. Plus, with Young Master Jeon and Young Miss Yoon getting married by the end of November, Wonwoo’s company and Shua's studio are trying their best to wrap as many things as possible before you and Wonwoo leave for honeymoon.

“You know what this reminds me of?”

“What?” He indulges you.

“That time when everyone's busy and only Soonyoung was possible.” That feels like a long time ago now, something that you both can look back and laugh at even though it hurt before. “You were babysitting Jennie.”

“And you fainted because I took my eyes away from you for like three seconds.”

“Stop exaggerating.”

“And now you're all buddy buddy with her.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs and you join soon after, the rest of your meal flows in the blink of an eye. Time works in a funny way when you're with him, and you wonder if it'll change once you get officially married despite all the time you already spend with him.

“The wedding is already next month, isn't it?”

“I know, right? Felt like it was just yesterday I proposed to you.”

Wonwoo pauses, and you look at him in question as he stares at you in silence.

“Did you know I cried that night?”

“...what?”

“Yeah.” He smiles to himself, putting down his chopsticks and replays that night once again in his head. He doesn't think he'd ever forget the way you look and the way you ask him that question. He's pretty sure sometimes he still dreams of you asking that, over and over again like a broken player that he doesn't want to get fixed. “After you fell asleep. I cried for a bit in the bathroom just in case you woke up.”

It's weird what goes over you upon the confession. Wonwoo doesn't cry easily, and even though you've seen him cry three or four times before, you've never thought he'd ever cry because of you. Knowing that he has… You can't even think of teasing him for it, your heart filling with love beyond its size upon realizing someone out there really loves you to the point of crying because you ask them to spend forever with you.

“Thank you for telling me.” You say, surprising him. “You already know I cried when you proposed even though I knew it was happening.”

“I heard you cried when you're trying out your wedding dress?”

“Who betrayed me?”

Wonwoo laughs at this, but tells you he's not naming anyone and he's definitely not teasing you about it.

“I will probably be crying too when I finally see you in the wedding dress.” He says easily, making your heart skip yet another beat at how effortlessly he spews those words.

Fuck Jeon Wonwoo.

[✾✾✾]

There's a party you're attending tonight. Jennie said it's some kind of party that she's hosting to celebrate her last line of designs before her expected return to Ruby Corp.

She has told you to wear one of the cocktail dresses you tried the other day: the white one that stops right above your knees. You love every detail of it: from the subtle way silver stars and moons decorate the seam of the dress, to the lace that is just enough without making it look tacky.

It accentuates your body in all the right ways, but if you look at it long enough, it looks somewhat like a mini wedding dress, which is why you decided against wearing it to the after party because you don't want both your dresses to be white. You’re not sure if it’s really okay to wear it before your wedding considering how much it resembles one, but Chaeyoung’s insistence and Jennie’s confirmation convinces you because you actually love it the most out of the other dresses, which is why you're kind of excited when Jennie told you it’s really okay to wear that one.

She has told you to get your makeup done at the salon, too, because she's invited a lot of media and she tells you it's okay to do a more glamorous makeup than what you're used to. You still want a natural one, but Chaeyoung once again convinces you to do more and you give in because she looks way too excited for some reason.

Currently at the salon with her, you've decided to try one of the hairstyles you want for your wedding. It's something you still haven't decided, but your wedding is in two weeks, and you suppose it wouldn't hurt to try out some of the simple hairstyles you're considering.

Your hair is styled to beautiful curls, half of your hair is up in a bun that's sprinkled with star accessories, making it look like there are stars scattered on your bun. Chaeyoung takes a picture of it and shows you, to which you squeal at because it's simply too cute.

Despite how much you like how you look, you feel a little over the top. But Chaeyoung reminds you it's a fashion party so there would probably be people who dress way more excessively and you're completely fine.

“Wonwoo's not answering my texts at all. Wonder if he's okay…” you frown at your phone, your text from this morning left unread and unanswered.

Chaeyoung hums, not seemingly bothered by your concern.

“Maybe he's just busy. Your wedding is in two weeks and you're leaving for honeymoon almost immediately.  He's probably making sure he won't be bothered during then.” Her answer is a little too perfect to the point where you might consider it scripted, but you're a little too concerned about Wonwoo to think about it and you quietly agree with her despite how you feel.

“I haven't been able to reach Han and Shua either…”

“Looking for me?” A familiar voice greets you and you wave at Joshua who's already dressed for the party. “Sorry, got classes all day.”

“‘Skay. Where's Han?”

“I think he's in a meeting with your father. Something about a merger?”

“Huh…” You frown, trying to remember if there's any talk about a merger that you've heard before. But, then again, you haven't been involved in the company for about two years now, you're not always updated and it might even be about some sub company that you don't know existed. “Makes sense. Why are you here?”

“Jeonghan will be late to the party so I thought I'll drive with you.” He grins. “I don't want to arrive there alone.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Of course.” You should've known, really. Seungcheol never fails to report to Wonwoo, Jeonghan, or Shua everytime they ask your whereabouts. “Why are you dressed like that? It's a fashion party, dude.”

“Heh.” He shrugs, not minding the way you frown at his suit, definitely too formal for Jennie's party. “I got too busy and didn't have time to look for a fashionable outfit.”

“You still have time to change.” You try to convince him, not wanting him to embarrass himself there. “We'll probably be done in thirty minutes.”

It's then that Joshua takes a good look at you, looking at you from head to toe as his eyes water a little, which he blinks away quickly before you even notice.

“You're beautiful.” He says, startling you at the sudden honesty.

He's looking at you so softly that you're a little unsure how to respond to that, so you take the easy way and joke it away.

“Thanks. Wait until you see me at my wedding.”

This seems to make him smile even wider, and he carefully pats your head before telling you he'd wait around and he's too bothered to change so you don't have to worry.

Exactly thirty minutes later, you're on your way to the venue with Chaeyoung and Joshua. You're still trying to reach Wonwoo, but your call wouldn't go through and your text is still unanswered. You tried texting Chan, but he simply tells you his boss is busy and hasn't been able to check his phone, that he'll remind him to text you once he's able to.

That's enough to tame down your worry a little, and remembering you have a party to go to, you decide to let go of it and try to get in the mood. Good thing you have Chaeyoung and Joshua with you.

The three of you arrive in front of the building about forty minutes later, and you wonder why it's a little too quiet remembering how much of a fuss Jennie made it to be. But perhaps it's because you're still in the lobby; the party is on the top floor, after all.

Once you get to the very top level and you get off the elevator, it's still very much quiet, which makes you a little suspicious. But there's no reason for you to be suspicious of Jennie, so you ask instead if you're at the right place.

Just as they're about to answer, the lights go off and you jump at the pitch dark you suddenly find yourself in. You call for your companies and try to reach for them, but they're nowhere and you start to panic when something soft drapes over your eyes.

It's a blindfold, you register. A silk one by the feel of it, but that's not important because why are you blindfolded and you're trying to fight whoever's behind you.

“Trust me, okay?” Joshua’s comforting voice echoes against the empty corridor, and you relax a little as thousand different scenarios enter your mind. If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s Joshua, so when you feel his hand clasping yours and he leads you forward with Chaeyoung following close behind, you walk despite the way your heart is beating a million beats per second.

But when you hear the door open and close again, dark still engulfing you even after Joshua says you're allowed to take it off, what you find in front of your eyes once the light goes back on is beyond your imagination. 

You see Wonwoo on the other side of the aisle, presumably smiling at you even though you can't really tell due to your vision getting blurry.

You take your time to look around the room, a glass ceiling displaying the night sky with the  moon right above you, there are roughly only six tables in the beautiful room, decorated by your favorite flowers, your favorite color scheme, and every single thing you've mentioned to Wonwoo all that time. Somehow, even the stars are more visible than they have ever been.

“Princess?” You register your father's voice, his arm slightly open for you to take, and you don’t remember the last time his eyes stared at you with such gentleness. “Let's go. Wonwoo is waiting.”

You nod despite your unshed tears and your confusion, and as you walk down the short aisle and get to the end of it, you spare a few seconds to look at who's present. And upon realizing that they're all the people that are dear to you and Wonwoo, your eyes tear up once again at the realization of what's really happening.

“I told you I would do everything for you, right?” He whispers as you meet his eyes, trying his best to keep it together because, fuck, you look so beautiful it doesn't make sense. “I hope this is how you imagined your dream wedding to be.”

Before you can answer, the officiant, Yoon Jeonghan, cuts you off and proceeds to start the wedding ceremony. You can't even concentrate on anything, only focusing on Wonwoo and everything he's done for you.

Your brain is starting to put pieces together: the dress Jennie made you, the way your mothers seem less guilty, everyone being busy–how did he convince everyone to do this for you when they're all busy as hell?

Wonwoo starts his wedding vow, and you realize you'd have to do it too but you don't have anything prepared because you literally didn't know it was happening. You considered using the vow you're planning to use on your… well… wedding day, but you think that might not be fitting for this special day. 

Your day.

“First of all. Thank you to all of you here who have scammed me and betrayed me by helping Wonwoo.” You pretend to glare at them, to which they all laugh to because despite your words, you look the happiest they've ever seen you be. You’re glowing, despite the tears that are threatening to fall and the way you’re trying your best to hold back a sob. “I… I'll save the lengthy vow for the wedding in two weeks and I'll make this quick. I've gathered that a lot of you probably helped Wonwoo in this, and I want to thank you for all the time and effort you've put into this–and even somehow hiding it from me to the point where it didn't even occur to me to be suspicious of any of you. I've always wanted my wedding to be a small one shared by the people who matter, like all of you here, and to know that everyone of you are involved somehow… thanks for making anyone who might surprise me in the future fall short to this. And to Wonwoo…”

You finally look at him in the eye, both your eyes tearing up as you share a moment between you two. You try to calm yourself down, and you grip his hands harder before you sob right then and there.

“Thank you for making my dream come true. You should know that as long as it's with you, it's my dream wedding already.”

Jeonghan takes the cue to announce you as husband and wife, and as your lips meet under the night sky, you could've sworn the moon has never looked so bright before tonight.

[✾✾✾]

✾BONUS✾

“You look so beautiful, dear.” Mrs. Jeon softly dabs her eyes with tissue to stop her tears from falling down.

“Thank you so much Aun–uh…” You pause mid sentence only now realizing she's no longer just Auntie for you. “Mom…?”

She cries when you call her that, and Mr. Jeon laughs at how dramatic his wife is being, though he officially welcomes you to the family as he tries to calm her down.

“Wonwoo made you both work overtime, huh?” You joke, but your mom shakes her head and mentions they volunteered for it when he brought up the idea. Your fingers, clasped around Wonwoo's, tighten, and his thumb caresses your knuckle as if reminding you to calm down. “Thank you so… so much. Wonwoo couldn't have done it without you guys.”

“I know. My son sucks at making events.” Mrs. Jeon adds, already calmed down. “But at least he has the head to think about this.”

“Alright, Mom. Thanks for your compliment.” He rolls his eyes in a joking manner, though he drops a kiss on her cheek and sincerely thanks your mom too for making the ceremony possible. “And thank you… uhh…”

You giggle at the same predicament Wonwoo finds himself in, but surprisingly it's your father who speaks up. 

“You're our son, now. Call us Mom and Dad, Mother and Father, whichever you prefer.” He offers a small smile, which startles you because you did not expect this at all. You know he's happy you're getting married to the Jeons, but there's another kind of happiness in his eyes that you haven't seen in a really long time. “You've always taken care of our daughter, even when we're not able to. Continue to do it, alright? I'm glad she has you in her life.”

Wonwoo hides his smile and excuses the both of you to greet the other tables, and when you come to Shua, Jeonghan, Jinyoung, Jisoo, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Soonyoung's table, you finally burst into tears even though you meant to pretend to be angry at them for deceiving you.

You blink repeatedly in hope your tears would vanish behind your eyes, but it's hard to do that when it's your father saying this. It's a confession you did not expect happening, but a part of you is relieved it did, and when your father pats your cheek and tells you not to cry, you nod despite the tears pooling in your eyes.

"Yes, Father. I'm glad I have her in my life, too."

Jinyoung and Jeonghan laugh, but the rest of the table panics and even the other tables are amused at your sudden emotional episode,  nothing but adoration filling their eyes.

“How–how could you guys do this to me?!” You say between sobs, Wonwoo grinning sheepishly to anyone whose eyes he meets on apology even though he knows no one actually minds.

“How dare you guys not say a thing!”

“We made sure you look your best, though.” Chaeyoung squeaks, to which you glare at before you break away from Wonwoo and engulf her in a hug. Then Chaeyoung starts crying too, and soon so are Jennie and Jisoo, and even Lisa and a few members of the studio who you've gotten very close with start crying on their table.

“I love you so much.” She whispers as she hugs you tighter. “I'm happy you found each other even though you've known each other since forever.”

“I love you too.” You kiss her cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup and yours. “Thank you for making sure I look my best on my wedding that I wasn't aware was happening.”

You look up to the rest of the table, take turns to hug each and everyone of them because all of them are apparently in on it; Chaeyoung and Jisoo with the overall preparation, Jennie with the dress, Soonyoung with the catering, Jeonghan with the venue, and Joshua with the flowers.

“You don't deserve a hug because you didn't help but I will hug you because of Jisoo.” You narrow your eyes at Jinyoung.

“Hey! Who do you think helped your little husband here and convince him it's okay to do all this?” He teases you both and drops a quick kiss on your head.

Husband.

You look at Wonwoo, who seems to be stuck in the same word as you do. You share a look, and then smile at the same time and Wonwoo squeezes your hand until Jeonghan puts a stop to the serene moment and breaks it up.

“”Kay. That's enough. You both are too sappy. Let's move on to the first dance.” He shoos you both to the dance floor, and you laugh through your tears as Wonwoo takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor, right in the middle of the room beneath the night sky.

You look up once again, the moon exactly above you and him as you move together with the music. Your eyes are glassy the moment you find Wonwoo's which are also glassy, you don't try to hide your smile though, and you share that moment between you two, uncaring about the rest of the guests staring at you two.

Wonwoo leans down to kiss you square on the lips, and you press your lips back to his, the both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Hey, husband.” You whisper with a giggle, still shy with the title.

“Hey, wife.” He bumps his forehead into yours. “The moon is very beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” You agree, your thumb caresses the apple of his cheek. “The moon is indeed very beautiful tonight."

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: happy new year! idk if i'll be writing a lot this year but we'll see ig? i didnt think this would reach more than 5k lol. do talk to me if you enjoy this <3

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #khione.fics #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen fic #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #wonwoo au #wonwoo imagines

[angelshadowsinger]

Too Late (Priorities 2)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

Azriel hurries back from his mission to find you’re gone. (sequel to Priorities)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

hiii guys! i originally intended on leaving Priorities an open-ended angst, but! y'all demanded part 2, so here it is~ just so you know, this is not happy. if i make a part 3, that might be! also, sorry this is a bit late. this last week was crazy busy and next week probably will be too. TW: very brief mention of vomit

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The wind howled as Azriel pelted through the sky, his raw cheeks stinging from its relentless barrage. Scarred fists were clenched so hard the imprint of his fingernails marred his palms, jaw set as he grit his teeth and powered through exhaustion. 

You were right. 

The mission that Rhys had sent him on was nothing but a menial task. Any of the lower members of Azriel’s investigation force could have done the job the same as him. But ultimately, it was only himself he had to blame; even if his brother had given him the task, he had failed to pass it on to his espionage underlings. Delegation was perhaps one of his weakest skills— even after all these years he felt he had to earn his worth within his family. 

Thankfully, he was already on his way home the evening after leaving, the ordeal taking not even a full day. And he was flying full-speed in order to get back to you as fast as he could. 

His stomach had been in knots ever since he winnowed from his room at the Town House, where he had left you alone with your tears. The sound of your sobs echoed in his head, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he recalled your pleas for him to stay. 

He should’ve listened— This mission was the last nail in the coffin he had been slowly building every time his brother had summoned him away from you, calling him to duty with barely any time to rest between requests, barely any time to hold you in his arms. 

Gods, he missed you. Every time he had to leave you was like pulling teeth, his body and his shadows always begging to stay by your side, savor your kiss and your touch and your voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear. But his mind always won out. He couldn’t count how many times he had forced himself to withdraw from your ambrosial embrace, how many times he averted his sight from your melancholy gaze. If he allowed himself to linger on it, shame would begin to swirl in his guts and tighten his throat. 

The border of Velaris came into view and the shadowsinger dared to smile, stopping on a tall plain to gather a few wildflowers together. A meager peace offering, but a gift to show his remorse nonetheless. He had never returned to you empty-handed after a fight, and would not begin now.

Azriel plucked a few more stems to fluff up the bouquet, silently preparing himself for the emotional turmoil that was bound to ensue. The things he felt for you terrified him— and maybe that was partly why he would always answer Rhys’ call. Because if he stayed, and told his brother no… that would be his recognition that you had become his top priority. Perhaps it was time to make that leap, he thought, as he winnowed right into the foyer of the townhouse.

The home was eerily silent as he materialized in the dark, no candles or faelight illuminating the first floor. The sound of the clock ticking caught his attention, hazel eyes glancing at the last hour of dusk. The Illyrian frowned, straining to hear you, hoping to pick up the clank of dishes in the sink, the crisp turn of a page from a book, or even the quiet breaths of your sleeping form from the couch you usually dozed off on when you waited up for his return. But he detected not a single sound. 

Anxiety exploded in his chest, his shadows immediately surging out in every direction without needing instruction. His feet were moving before he could think, swiftly carrying him to the last place he had seen you— where he left you, falling apart and alone. 

He cursed as he hurtled up the stairs, three steps with each stride. It was times like these that he especially wished you were his mate, so that he could reach out to you and calm the ceaseless concerns that regarded your well-being every second he was apart from you. 

Rounding the corner, Azriel burst into his bedroom, eyes immediately zeroing in on the empty, made bed. Within a second, faelight lit the room. His shadows dwindled in the corners of the room, uncharacteristically mild as they slowly swirled at the floor, not reporting their findings to their master. Azriel bared his teeth at none of them in particular, but the reprimanding he was ready to bark out died in his throat as he noticed a small whirl of black lingering on the nightstand at his side of the bed. 

He came closer to inspect it, the little mass of shadow concentrated there, some spilling down the drawers at the side and joining its gloomy brethren on the ground. With a wave of his hand it dissipated. The bouquet in his grip fell to the tile with a soft whoosh. 

Your ring. 

It felt as if he had been shot, the jolt of lethal pain akin to when he had taken an arrow to the chest in Hybern. His lips parted as he examined the delicate silver band, the large, tear-shaped sapphire that once gleamed so brightly now dull against the wood. 

‘Stop wearing this the day you stop loving me,’ he had said, his arms around her as she giggled into his chest. She was giddy at his gift, kept admiring how it looked on her finger, her hand fanning out so the moonlight would catch the gem and shine. 

‘That would be never, shadowsinger,’ she had replied easily. 

He had never felt so light, so careless and content; she loved him too. She loved him, and he kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps she was. 

Azriel fell to the ground, his knees buckling and smashing onto the hard tile. He barely felt it, every fiber of him in shock as he stared at the piece of jewelry that lay on the tabletop, now at eye-level. 

He barely heard his shadows inform him that the ring was the only piece of you in the home left, that your clothes and books and even that ugly throw pillow he hated was gone from the sofa. His wings slowly dipped until they pooled into a black mass on the floor behind him, dread oozing through him as he read the words that laid on the note beneath your ring. 

I’ll never stop, even if you have.

The shadowsinger sat and stared at the ring, at those awful words. He read them again, and then he reread them, again and again. 

He had told you he loved you before he left… But you didn’t believe him. And why should you, when all he gave you as of late were empty promises? Pretty words could only satisfy temporarily, and the latest string of seemingly-endless missions was longer than ever before. 

Doubts began to fill his mind with malicious whispers, his gaze still stuck on the ring and that hideous note. They murmured the thoughts that often found him at the odd hours of the night, when he would lay with your perfect body in his arms and sleep would welcome you but evade him– that you deserved more than he could ever give you, that he was unworthy of your pure and whole love. 

The sound of droplets splattering on the ground summoned Azriel from his descent into devastation, and his eyes slowly fell to examine the tiny pools his tears had formed beside his knees. He hadn’t realized he had started crying. He gingerly raised a scarred hand to his cheek, studying the newfound wetness on his fingertips. It had been so long since he last cried, the evidence of his emotion was foreign. 

Shaky fingers plucked the ring from the nightstand, coming to hold the tiny finery in his lap. It looked so bizarre against the crude black of the leathers binding his thighs, so bright and pure that he couldn’t help but think of you. Couldn’t help but think of when he had seen you personified the same, and he himself as a mass of darkness that would bleed into your light and poison you somehow. He thought of how every time he felt that way, you had worked so hard to convince him that he deserved you and that he deserved love, that you were so happy to be the one to give it to him. More tears escaped as he now realized his failure in telling you the same. You had always been there for him, and when you had begged him for support in your time of need, he had failed you. He had run away.

And now you had erased all traces of yourself from the house Rhys had gifted him. 

The town house had become Azriel’s official residence since his brothers had coupled off, and it had once been the fortress of his solitude. That was before he had found you, and before you had gradually moved your things in… before it had become a home. And now that it was void of you once more, it had suddenly reverted back to that empty, bleak place he had learned to hate.

A lump formed in his throat at the notion that perhaps this place had slowly transformed into your own prison of isolation these last few months. That maybe you had felt this sinking, desperate feeling when you were here, in the place that was meant to be your nest of love, your safe haven. That you had told him you were drowning here, and he had simply told you to wait for him when you were already exhausted, gasping out for him with your last breath. That when he had disregarded your desperate plea, he had effectively swung the sword and severed any faith you had left in him. 

You were gone, and it was all his fault. 

He was too late.

Nausea rolled deep in his gut and he winnowed in front of the toilet just in time before the contents of his stomach surfaced. Only once his body had heaved up everything it could did he begin to sob, knuckles pale as they clenched onto porcelain, his broad form slumped on the cool tile. Shadows swarmed the bath, mirroring their master’s distress. 

Eventually the shadowsinger sat back against the nearest wall, trying to calm his ragged breath. The shadows produced the note that had been left behind, and the sight of your parting words to him nearly triggered another fit, bile rising at the back of his throat. But he paused as he read the words again, scrutinized them even though they were few and short. He sat up and analyzed the note, hazel revisiting and eating up every curve of ink.

You still loved him. 

Even after he had ignored you, neglected you, failed you… you still loved him. Was there a chance that you… still wanted him? If he could repent and swear to do better, would you take him back? If he could just talk to you, if he could get one more chance from you… he could love you. He already did love you, but if he had another shot to be with you, then he could really give you his all, he could really allow himself to love you like he had always dreamt of. He could stand up to his brother, he could tell you how his world was meaningless without you, he could cherish you– prioritize you, he could… 

Azriel frowned, a panicked hand combing through his dark hair. 

Could he do all of that?

He had never been so outright with his emotions, it felt weak to bear his heart to such a degree… But what was the alternative? A life without you? A life filled with wondering what could have been had he not been a coward that was too scared to tell you how he really felt, too scared to even try? 

If there was a time to be brave, it was now. 

He was absolutely terrified, but his resolve was steel as he took a minute to fix himself, another to grab the flowers from the ground and ensure he had your ring. And then he was off in search of you, shadows enveloping him and melting into the night.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel angst #my work #angelshadowsinger

[wordsbyrian]

Ma’am do you write for Leila Ouahabi? A writer posted a bunch of old requests she won’t be writing and this one caught my eye: (Leila uses R as a shield everytime ESPWNT teammates scare her)

A/N: Look I wrote a thing after *checks watch* ... actually lets not talk about how long its been.

If there is one thing you’re certain of in life, it’s that your girlfriend is a massive scaredy cat.

As tough as she may appear to people who don’t know her very well (especially when it comes to her antics on the field), you and all of your national team teammates know that the slightest noise or sudden movement can make her jump out of her skin.

And since everyone knows this, they all make it their job at camp to scare her at every possible movement.

In the past, you had been completely fine with this but recently Leila has taken to using you as a shield against all of your teammates' attacks.

The first time it happened, you had no choice but to be shocked.

The two of you had been walking down the hall after training when Mapi jumped out at you from an alcove.

Leila’s hand, which had been loosely wrapped around your waist immediately tightens, but instead of pulling you behind her like you thought she would, you get tugged against her chest as she crouches down behind you and hides her face in your back.

This leaves you staring blankly at Mapi who can barely hold herself up she’s laughing so hard.

Sighing deeply, you loosen Leila’s grip on your body and turn to face her.

“Seriously?”

You watch for a few seconds as Leila stutters and stumbles her words, Mapi still laughing behind you.

“Seriously,” you say again.

“Mi amor,” your girlfriend tries, reaching out for your hand, only for you to take a step back while glaring at her.

“Idiotas.”

You glare at her one more time before turning and leaving the two best friends standing there.

Of course, word of what happened spreads quickly through the team, which means that you find yourself in the position of a human shield with increasing frequency.

Which, in turn, means that Leila finds herself on the receiving end of your glare with that same frequency.

Your teammates all take any and every opportunity to scare your girlfriend into the dog house.

Even Alexia has gotten in on the action, quietly walking up behind the defender and scaring her so badly that the older woman leaps into your arms.

Rolling your eyes, you adjust your grip on her to hold her more securely and continue walking back to Leila’s hotel room. Tossing nothing but a simple ‘bye Ale’ over your shoulder on your way.

In its own twisted way, your non-reactions become a challenge to your teammates in it’s own right.

As time passes and more camps come and go, they come up with new and increasingly outrageous ways to try and get a rise out of you.

Most of them fail.

Ona is the one with the best attempt. It’s probably because she knows that both you and Leila have a soft spot for her.

It happens one morning at breakfast, near the end of camp, just as you point out to Leila that the younger woman she’d claimed as her cousin hasn’t been seen yet.

Just as you finish saying, Leila begins freaking out saying that something touched her leg.

Rolling your eyes, you lean over to check under the tablecloth to reassure your girlfriend that there’s nothing down there but you don’t do much other than look at your feet before sitting back up.

Unfortunately, Leila continues, to insist that something is touching her leg. So much so that you reach down and move her legs so that their resting on your lap.

Breakfast continues mostly in peace after that…

…until you feel something grab your leg.

The first few times it happens, you just shake it away and continue eating.

But eventually, it wraps itself fully around your ankle.

Naturally, this startles you. So in a surprising display of coordination, you pull Leila into your lap while pushing away from the table at the same time.

There’s also a very impressive string of curse words that you let out.In the middle of your tirade, you spot Ona crawling out from under the table.

“Joder. Hijo de la gran puta.”

Clearly, you are causing a scene and drawing the attention of all your teammates and the coaching staff but you can’t really find it in you to care. Especially not with the way both Leila and Ona are laughing so hard their faces are turning red.

Rolling your eyes at the pair of clowns, you stand up (letting your girlfriend drop to the ground) and begin to walk away.

Stopping just before you reach the door, you turn around and look back at Leila and Ona, who are now leaning on each other trying to catch their breath.

“Alright I’ve let everyone have their fun,” you say, “but we all remember what happened the last time I joined in on a prank war.”

And with that, you walk out of the room, trying not to laugh at the sound of multiple people scrambling to chase after you.

#womens soccer #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #leila ouahabi #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi imagine

[mechaknight-98]

A Train to Busan II (NSFW) FT: Jeewon

Part I

Authors note: sorry for the weird shift in the middle of how they speak in the middle. I was working on a different piece and the dialogue kinda bleed through.

I checked into my hotel on the edge of Busan after the train ride, because I wanted to see the countryside before spending the evening and night sightseeing. Interestingly enough Jeewon was also staying in the same hotel. So after we both checked in we both regrouped in my room. Jeewon was bubbly and as perky as could be. I noticed she was also exceptionally flirty.

A lingering touch here. A rub of the thigh there. I could feel her body inch closer to mine until she took off her shirt and bra leaving her massive bust bare.

“I know Chaehyun got a taste of your body and now I want mine.” She said with a voice made husky by lust.

“I saw you try to be a good man and not sneak looks at our bodies. Not think about how’d you ravish them but you’re not a good man Dino. I can feel it.” She said as she lowered herself to my crotch.

“You sure are cocky. How can you be sure” I challenge

Jeewon’s eyes go wide but then shrink to normal as she begins to massage her chest“I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it in your muscles. You hold back. That thing inside you that you spend every day killing I see it and it wants out. I intend to let it out.” Her words set me on edge. Surely she couldn’t mean what I thought she meant. I wondered if she knew what that part of me was capable of. I worried about her safety but it’s also not often such a voluptuous woman offered her body so willingly to me.

“Run wild fuck my huge breasts. then lose yourself as you claim my pussy, and please drink my milk.” Jeewon says as her breasts begin to leak all over her chest. Jeewon’s words make me question something and so I ask

“You say claim your pussy but your breast leak as though you’re with child. How can that be?” I inquire perplexed

“My body was blessed by a fertility goddess. In that blessing, I would always be fertile.” Between her melodic voice and mesmerizing body, my inhibitions were gone.

I lift her and begin to kiss her Jeewon smiles.

“You taste exciting,” she says eyes lit ablaze with longing and fascination before going in again. I feel her arms snake around my body hoping to bring me closer. As I reciprocate her kinetic pleas for intimacy I paw at her breasts. She moans and breaks the kiss again. She stares at my tattoos and asks “Where did you get these?"

“They were needed for my job,” I reply still guarded. Jeewon pouts and for a moment the bubbly girl is back not the vixen

She tenses and says, “So what do you do for work? Or do you still not trust us?” she asks. I remain cagey about my answer.

“Trust lives by more than just seduction and comfort,” I reply.

“Yet you trust Chae enough to let her claim you?” She teases

“I am not property to be claimed by anyone" I reply

“ Did I strike a nerve? I meant no offense, but please be serious both Hayoung and I see the eyes you have for her.”

“Then why am I here with you?” I ask

Jeewon smiles, “touche”

“Also what's with the old-time speech? I feel like I'm in a Bible class or some old play. Just waiting for you to bust out a thou or a thee.” I question.

Jeewon laughs and her bubbly smile returns, “The platinum tongue is so ingrained you don't even realize its magic has spread.”

“How do you know about that?” I inquired of Jeewon

“Because to me you're not speaking English but Korean. Not modern by any means but to me you sound like a knight of old.”

“Oh well, that checks out,” I say and Jeewon laughs.

“So why Chaehyun?” Jeewon asks

“Well I'm not thinking about her right now for obvious reasons but she chose me first” I answer Jeewon laughs as we go in and out of another kiss. She then pushes me down to the hotel bed and begins her ministrations in earnest.

I discarded my clothes as we feverishly make out, and she wrapped her tits around my cock. Her chest was soaked with her milk letting me almost glide between her mounds. Jeewon smiles as I groan. My eyes roll into the back of my head as she continues to push me closer to release. I watch and writhe as the young woman rubs her sizable breasts along my shaft. Each pull and push lowers my sanity just a little bit.

"Fuck Jeewon." I gasp. Jeewon smiles at me

"Enjoying it?" she questions. I nod at her question and she continues. She watches me with that infectious smile and I reach down and cup her face. Her smile only grows brighter. It brought me a weird sense of comfort, or maybe that was the dopamine from her excellent tit job. regardless I nodded to her question. As she continues I feel myself getting closer and closer. something she takes note of.

"Are you gonna cum?" Jeewon asked, "Do it. Cum all over my tits. Spray them with your seed." she says. her last words were enough to send me over the edge my rod began to expel my seed all over her chest and face.

"You cam a lot," Jeewon says with an amused smile as she takes a finger and wipes the cum off of her chest and puts it onto her face.

"taste a little like vanilla," she says happily. before getting up and approaching the shower. she wiggles her cute butt and asks me to join her.

Before I can answer her My phone has a call it's from Chaehyun. Jeewon walks over and laughs at the name on it.

"Marshmello?" She asks me.

"She's so soft. wait why am I defending myself to you?" I reply. Jeewon laughs and gestures for me to answer it.

"Hey, when you guys are done checking in remember to meet us at the art museum." She said.

"Okay, Mello. Jeewon will be there." I answer

"Good. I will be expecting you," she replied in a sing-song tone. Jeewon watches from her side and gives me a teasing smile. I shoo her away as I finish the call.

"You two are adorable," Jeewon says laughing.

"Oh be quiet."

"No, I am serious. Your smile was this big" Jeewon says exaggerating the size to be her full wingspan (The length between the tip of her longest finger to the other with her arms stretched out horizontally. for those who don't know.) "And she very rarely goes full girly voice." she adds. I smile but then shake it off.

"Y'all are trouble," I reply

"As are you Mister Mysterious Warrior," Jeewon replies.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #jeewon cignature #jeewon smut #cignature #cignature smut

[risingoftime]

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN

Hobie runs into you after his show at the local pub. The both of you haven’t seen each other since the phone call and things get steamy in the alleyway.

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on the part i! wrote this on my train ride home. hopefully i can make more time to write₊˚ෆ 18+

part i | part ii

It was hard to avoid Hobie after the previous night's incident when you worked at the pub the Spider-Slayers performed. They were given residency after you introduced the band to your uncle, the owner. The band gained popularity through you, and the pub was always packed on Friday nights due to them. They were making your job that much more hectic. The music made your ears ring, and the bass from Hobie’s guitar vibrated through your whole body. Hobie mainly wrote the piece for the Spider-Slayers, and It was as if you could feel the passion he put into every song. You filled pints of beer and fulfilled orders at a record-setting speed. You were one of the top bartenders at the pub, and the tips reflected that. It could also be the push-up bra and revealing tops helping you along the way, but you liked to think it was your charming personality. Tonight, you wore a mini skirt, so the tips were even more generous than before. 

Punk rock blasted from outside the bar as you lugged the trash from the back door into the alleyway. Once everything was discarded, you reached into the side of your bra and dumped the receipts with phone numbers from customers who failed attempts to hit on you. 

“Hope you’re not throwing out my digits as well.” 

Hobie leaned against the stonewall, observing you casually with a crooked smile. He wore his signature studded leather vest, fingers clad with chunky rings, and his guitar strapped behind his back. Hobie sent your senses in a craze, flashbacks of last night with his lewd moans and whimpers flooded your mind. Hearing Hobie softly whisper your name through the phone made it impossible for you not to satisfy your dirty desires. Last night you fucked yourself shamelessly with your fingers alongside Hobie. Urging your fingers to go deeper than they can. His words edged you closer to a climax that you never reached.

Things got cut short when you were caught red-handed. The moment you heard “Hello, love.” You panicked and ended the call without a second thought. You knew that, regardless, you’d have to face Hobie the next day. And here he stood in all glory, waiting for your response. His statement was dubbed as innocent, but you knew better. You gave him a pointed glare and smiled sweetly before meeting his earthy brown eyes. 

“Who said I had your number to begin with?”

Hobie took a couple of steps closer towards you, closing the gap between the both of you with these long strides. “After last night, I would’ve assumed it was saved.” He adjusted a loose curl that was out of place on your head, using any excuse to touch you. “It takes more than that to gain a spot in my cell,” you stated. 

“Oh, yeah?” Hobie placed his hands on the brick wall on either side of your head, trapping you in one spot. His face was mere inches away so that you could see his piercings and striking features up close. The image of him you conjured last night was no competition for the real deal. Keeping eye contact made breathing hard, with your heart beating so loudly that it rang in your ears. “Yeah,” your voice came out an octave higher and shaky; You could barely be heard over the music coming from inside. But Hobie still heard it loud and clear. 

“Can I change your mind?” Hobie was now barely inches away from your face. You could smell the mint on his breath from the gum that he was chewing earlier on stage. Before you could pause to think clearly about what you agreed to, your head nodded on its own accord. Hobie unzipped and unbuckled his pants swiftly with one hand.  His hands began to slip under your skirt. The mere feel of your bare skin made Hobie’s dick throb. He pulled your underwear down just enough to rub his tip against your clit in circular teasing motions. The warm contact of his skin along your folds was a sensation you’d been craving. You both marvelled at how wet you had become from the simple movement. Your clit pulsates with each brush of his dick. Hobie’s breath hitched as he held back a soft whimper. 

He planted small kisses at first, his breathing growing heavy. Until his lips entirely overtook your own, the cold feel of his lip ring felt amazing. Inviting him to deepen the kiss, you could feel his tongue moving against yours while he guided his dick dangerously close to your hole. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Hobie and played with the curls on the nape of his neck.  

Hobie only broke the kiss to hoist you up against the wall. “Hobie—“ you gasped out. You couldn’t hide the shock at his strength and capabilities to balance your weight swiftly. “Shhh, just let me… I just need….” Hobie couldn’t even complete his sentence as he guided his erection to your entrance. He took his time entering inside you, allowing you to adjust to his thick length. Hobie was bigger than you had imagined. 

“God, you’re taking me in so well,” Hobie groaned as he watched his cock go in and out of your pussy. His member was already glistening from your wetness. His calloused hands gripped your ass firmly while he did so. Fuck, you were like putty in his hands. “I want this pussy all to myself,” he said more to himself than to you. Hobie’s eyes glazed over as you moaned in his ear, “It's all yours.”

Hobie’s head lowers onto your shoulder as gentle groans fall from his lips. He left small kisses and love bites on your neck as he pummeled into your pussy. All that could be heard in the alley was your moans and the music wavering from the bar. “Shit, Hobie—you feel so…” You've never experienced something like this. The way Hobie filled you and stroked your walls made your pussy wetter the longer he continued. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he thrust into your creamy pussy. 

You tightened your walls around his dick and gripped Hobie’s shoulders for balance. Hobie fought to hold back his orgasm whilst whispering “cum for me” against your lips. It’s as if he was stripping your defences one by one. You didn’t resist him, wholly at his mercy, to fuck you how he pleased. Your convulsing orgasm ran through the both of you like a warm current. At that moment, all that existed was just you two. Grasping bodies and breathing in each other's air like it was your last. If Hobie wasn't holding you up, you knew you'd slump down from weariness. No one has made you cum like that. 

Hobie pulled out of you hurriedly; his dick remained hard, and yearned for more. Still, in a daze and with shaky legs, he gently lowered you onto your feet. 

“Make sure you save my number this time.”

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie x black!reader #hobie brown #hobie brown fic #hobie x you #astv hobie #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #astv fanfic #astv fic #hobie x reader #atsv hobie #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman astv #spider punk #smut #hobie smut #⟢CREATION OF TIME

[in1-nutshell]

Uh hi, this my first ever resquest, and i'm sorry if things don't make sense, english is not my first language.

Could i get tfp bot buddy who has shadow powers(like can turn into one and use them as portals), has the appearance of nightmares and is close to Ultra Magnus(dunno if is platonic, familial or romantic)?

They kinda been living as Ultra Magnus shadow since forever and help him on missions,tasks or just anything, but in one of their missions, the decepticons maneged to reallyyy hurt buddy and buddy, not wanting to die, retreated to Ultra Magnus shadow and went into stasis to heal but Ultra Magnus didn't knew that and thought that buddy had perished.

Only now on earth did buddy finally wakes up.

Could i get reactions from the team or something like that if not, that's okay :) also love your writing

Magnus was so close to having a spark attack when he saw Buddy pop out of his shadow the first time they used their powers, that's for sure.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy with shadow manipulation and being Ultra Magnus's Amica Endura

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy met Magnus through Optimus.

He introduced them to Magnus during the earlier years of the war as his Second in Command.

Magnus just thought he was getting to know another coworker.

A couple missions later, several late-night conversations and some free time later they become Amica Endura.

“You know you never did tell HOW you became Amica with Commander shoulder pads over there. Was it a bet you loss?”--Wheeljack

“No bets were lost Wheeljack. We became Amica out of our own choice and free will. Nothing else to do with it.”--Buddy

“Sure…”--Wheeljack

Buddy loves to prank Magnus with their shadow powers.

Magnus does not find this funny… but he does find it a bit endearing after a while.

Being an Outlier was rare to find in this world.

Even rarer to find after the war broke out.

So many had been the first ones targeted at the beginning of the war there were barely anymore left.

It was a risk putting Buddy in the Wrecker’s, but so far it brought greater success to the unit than any point in their formation.

“Freeze Autobot scum!”—Random Decepticon

Buddy putting their servo in the air almost mockingly.

“There’s three of you and one of me… what ever shall I do?”--Buddy

Buddy’s servos start glowing a bit.

“Have you met my Amica?”--Buddy

“Why would we—”—Random Con

SLAM!

Magnus takes out the three mechs after appearing from behind thanks to Buddy’s shadow powers.

“That was brutal!”--Buddy

Magnus fixes his blaster a bit.

“I hate when you put yourself in these situations.”--Magnus

“Its in the job description Mags.”--Buddy

“Buddy we’ve been over this.”--Magnus

“And we’ve been over this too.”--Buddy

“…”--Magnus

“…”--Buddy

“First one that takes out five Cons has to buy the other a drink.”--Buddy

“If you insist.”--Magnus

Buddy has defiantly used their powers to get Magnus to sneak up on unsuspecting troops.

Magnus is always there for Buddy when they overexert themselves and need someone to watch over their back.

One trip left Buddy badly injured.

They saw Magnus’s backside as he was trying to find them in the rubble of the exploding base.

They tried to call for him, but they could barely keep their optics open.

His shadow was the closest thing they could reach so they snuck into his shadow.

With a quick nap, their wounds would get healed in no time.

Magnus thought that Buddy had died in the explosion after coming back to the base for regrouping.

He checked all other places they set rendezvous points and in none of the places did he even find a trace of Buddy.

Magnus could see it in the optics of his Wrecker’s that the war was about to turn bloodier than it was now that Buddy was gone.

Hopefully things would get better…

Hope was the last thing they had.

Timeskip to Magnus being on Earth…

Buddy finally feels ready to get out of the shadow.

Yeah, it took a while to finally get healed, but they are sure they are ready now.

By their calculations they missed about a couple weeks in the war. Things couldn’t have changed that much.

Magnus is arguing with Wheeljack when Bulkhead sees something wrong with Magnus’s shadow.

“Hey guys, shadows aren’t supposed to do that right?”--Bulkhead

Miko looks from the perch.

“Wow! Wheeljack made Magnus so mad his shadow gained sentience!”--Miko

In a blink there is a bot laying on the floor rubbing their helm.

“Urgh! Never doing that again… hey Mags when did we get better lighting—Mags?”--Buddy

Ultra Magnus stares at Buddy with wide optics.

“By the Allspark! Buddy is that you?!”—Wheeljack

“Who’s that?”--Miko

Buddy moves their helm a bit and spots Wheeljack.

“Wheeljack? I thought you left cycles ago—Hey!”--Buddy

Bulkhead scoops Buddy from behind giving them a crushing hug.

“Bulkhead!? I thought you left to team Prime? Magnus? Magnus what’s going on?”—Buddy

“Seriously who’s that?”--Miko

Magnus remains still just staring at Buddy like a ghost.

Buddy gets out of Bulkhead’s grip stumbling a bit until they reach their Amica with a worried look on their face.

“Mags? Are you okay?”--Buddy

“I…I thought you had perished in the explosion. I looked everywhere…”--Magnus

Buddy scratches their helm a bit.

“Yeah, I got injured pretty badly back there. Your shadow was the closest thing I could reach and… well…”--Buddy

“So, this entire time you’ve been in Ultra Magnus’s shadow?”--Wheeljack

Buddy furies their optics a bit.

“You’re making this sound like I was gone for millennia. I was just gone for a couple of weeks most.”—Buddy

Magnus gives them a sad smile.

“…You never were good at your calculations Buddy.”--Magnus

Magnus puts a servo on his Amica’s shoulder.

“Mags?”--Buddy

“Mags?”--Miko

Buddy finally looks over at Miko.

“Who’s this?”--Buddy

“I’m Miko! Welcome to Earth!”--Miko

Buddy’s optics widen.

“How long was I in there!?”—Buddy

Optimus walks into the room with some of the reports.

“Ultra Magnus where—Buddy?”--Optimus

“WHY IS PRIME SO BIG!?”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp ultra magnus #tfp ultra magnus x platonic reader

[roseghoul26]

Part 2

Javier Escuella x femVirgin!Reader

Synopsis: You and Javier are to attend a party in Saint Denis, hoping to rob the owner of the establishment. Your role is to distract the man while Javier sneaks up to his room, stealing bonds rumored to be worth a good bit. The only problem is, the two of you are pretending to be husband and wife, which would be fine if you weren’t completely in love with the man. Will you be able to muster up the courage to finally confess to him, or will your personal anxieties hold you back from getting what you want?

Tags: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, fem!Reader, reader is described to have longer hair but that’s about it, reader is afraid of intimacy, but like still wants it, unwanted touch (not from javier), unwanted sexual advances (not from javier), non consensual touching (not from javier), basically any noncon stuff is not done by javier, degrading language towards women, first kiss, love confessions, virgin reader, not beta read, angst, unsafe sex

Author’s Note: i realized while writing this that the song “Slut!” by taylor works so well with fic, and i was going to change the title to a lyric from it but i already committed to this title

also, this is the part that contains non consensual themes, but there is not actually assault that happens. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something like that, please skip this fic!

part 1 ❉ part 2

If you had to laugh at one more awful joke, and to continue pretending like you were oh so interested in the history of a family’s company, you were going to hurt someone. You were thankful for Javier’s charm, letting him take the lead in most of the conversations, but you could tell that even he was getting exhausted. 

It had been about an hour and a half since the two of you arrived, spending most of your time mingling with the other guests, blending into the crowd as you awaited an opportunity to speak with Lee. But he was apparently a very important man, constantly being whisked away by other people before you could even approach him. He was constantly moving between floors, meaning that even you had to get his attention for a good while to allow Javier a chance to get into his room.

The two leaned side by side at the bar now, each of you nursing a small glass of some brandy. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you observed the crowd with disinterested eyes. Lee was currently in conversation with two other men, and he had been for the last ten minutes. 

Your feet were aching, and the corset was tiring, but it did its job as a distraction. More often than not, you watched men’s eyes roam over your body as Javier talked, and they seemed more eager to answer his questions and engage, if you didn't have a bit longer to look at you. It made you feel disgusted, but you could handle it for a night. But, thankfully, no one had laid their hands on you, mainly because your ‘husband’ was beside you most of the night.

The man beside you bent towards your ear, voice barely audible over the sounds of the party. “Are you doing alright?”

You smiled half-heartedly. “I’m ready to be done.”

“You and me both,” he chuckled dryly. 

“I will say, it’s much more bearable because of you.”

He didn’t respond, but he pulled you in closer. Because his arm was across your shoulders, he had access to exposed skin, and you felt him lightly dance his fingers across it. It felt quite nice, and you felt yourself begin to unwind. 

That was until you watched from across the room as Arthur raised his hands up, in a heated disagreement with another man. You nudged Javier, gesturing over to Arthur with a nod. “I swear, we can’t bring him anywhere.”

Javier laughed. “That we can’t. I’ll be right back, mi amor.” Kissing the top of your head, he removed himself from you, and you felt cold at the lack of contact.You already missed his hands on you, and despite what you believed, the growing fire inside of you didn’t cool down at all when he stopped touching you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? As he made his way toward the cowboy, you heard him begin to defuse the situation; his honeyed words could cool down even the most aggravated people.

As you watched, trying and failing to keep your eyes off the way his hips swayed as he walked, a new presence made themselves known beside you, on the opposite side of where Javier once stood. Taking a sip of your drink, you glanced up at the new figure, nearly choking on your drink when you saw who it was. 

“You enjoyin’ the party, ma’am?”

“I am, Mr. Reginald.” Time to turn on the charm. “The name’s Anna. Anna Howard.” You extended a hand towards him, which he took. He kissed the back of your hand, and you were successful in fighting the urge to pull it away. You were able to get a closer look at him, pretending to look interested in him as you did so. He was older, probably around Hosea’s age, with a scrappy white beard that scratched against your skin even through the glove. His longer hair was slicked back, and he had almost unsettling blue eyes that didn’t even bother to look into yours. His white skin was blotched with red, his cheeks ruddy with drink.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman,” he murmured as he straightened, flashing you a smile that you figured was supposed to be appealing. His teeth were partially rotten, and looked the color of turmeric, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. But he didn’t let go of your hand. “And you can just call me Lee.”

Pushing back your disgust, you smiled back at him. “A pleasure, Lee. You really know how to throw a marvelous party.”

Disregarding your compliment, you watched his eyes flick to Javier, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Is that your husband?”

Following his eyes, you watched as Javier escorted the man that Arthur was arguing with away, but his eyes were on you, an unspoken question in his eyes. Am I good to sneak away? What you didn’t notice was the barely restrained anger, jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched what was unfolding. You nodded, both at Javier and Lee, and you turned your attention away from Javier. “He is,” you laced your words with disappointment, and you could tell he heard it. “Married for two years.”

Before you could react, you felt the hand still grasping yours rip your glove away, a pleased grin on his face as he examined your hand. You let out a shocked gasp, which he took at you enjoying what he just did, his grin turning even larger. “I thought I didn’t feel a ring.”

“Don’t tell him,” you winked. He let go of your hand, shaking his head with a smile while handing you back your glove, which you slipped back on. You were killing this man in your mind, but you forced your face to seem flustered.

“Any children?”

You shook your head. “It ain’t for a lack of tryin’, though.” You laughed, and he joined in as well. He has still yet to make eye contact with you, eyes practically glued to the rest of your body. Pushing your chest forward, you watch his gross eyes widen. Grabbing your clutch from under your arm, you reapplied the rouge, and for once you watched his eyes flick to your face. Popping your lips, you tucked the rouge away, and you saw how he tracked every movement of yours. You had him right where you wanted him. Now you just needed to give Javier about fifteen to twenty minutes, then he’d be whisking you away, Arthur in tow, and then you’d never have to see this man again.

“I’m surprised your husband let you go out in somethin’ like this,” you felt him run the back of his hand against the bodice of your dress, running just under the cup of your breasts. You stiffened under his touch, but you were thankful that his body language comprehension was absolutely terrible, because he seemed to think you were liking it. You saw Arthur begin to approach the two of you, but he stayed close enough away to not interfere with what was happening, but he was ready to do anything if things went south. 

“Actually, he chose it for me, for tonight.”

“So he likes parading his wife around, like she’s a whore.” 

His words had your blood turning cold, your heartbeat hammering in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to tear yourself away. You steeled yourself, trying to not seem as affected as you were. “Whatever makes him happy.”

He laughed at that. “You like it, no?”

“I-”

“You like havin’ everyone else’s eyes on you, don’t you. I mean, you were practically pushing your tits to my face a moment ago. You that desperate for attention, huh? Your husband not givin’ you enough?” You wanted to roll your eyes. For the love of…

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you began to cry, a neat little trick you could pull out whenever you felt like it. “Old habits are hard to break, you know?” You elaborated more. “I used to offer my services to men… that’s how we met. He used to be so sweet.” You laughed bitterly. “But, ever since we got married, he hasn’t been treatin’ me right, always seeing’ other women, comin’ home late, and…” you took a moment to breathe, letting a tear escape from your eye, no doubt smuggling the kohl around it. “And he’s left me so unsatisfied. I wish I never married him!” You were playing into exactly what he wanted to hear, and he was hanging on to every word you said.

He cooed at you, demeaning in every sense of the word. “You poor thing,” his hand tugged at your waist, pulling you into him. 

You tried to push him away, arguing that he might see, but he chuckled. “Look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably got his hands on another woman right now. Isn’t that terrible?” He pulled you in close to him with a hand on your hip, and you shuddered.

You nodded, looking around for Javier. Just as he had said, he was gone, and you were content with that, the job going smoothly. “What kinda woman am I, who can’t keep her own husband loyal to her?”

“It’s not your fault, sweet thing. I’m not sure how any man could be unfaithful to a beautiful thing like you…” both hands now wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into him. His lips tickled your ear as he whispered to you, and you held back a gag at the stench. “How ‘bout I show you how a real man treats his woman.” You couldn’t even respond before he was pulling you towards one of the stairs by your hand. He had an iron grip on you, and you found yourself unable to pull away. Glancing behind you, you saw Arthur trying to follow you, but he was stopped by a group that were claiming very loudly that they knew him, getting more and more aggressive by the minute. He looked understandably panicked, eyes not leaving you as he tried to push through the group surrounding him. You mouthed I’m alright, despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm you. 

“Right now?” You sounded calm, much to your surprise. He nodded, not even looking back at you. “What about the party?”

“It’ll be there when we’re done.”

Shit. It had only been about seven minutes since the two of you had started talking, not nearly enough time for Javier to be done. And if he was taking you to his room, that’ll probably be where the bonds are located, and, in turn, where Javier would be currently trying to rob him. So much for the job going smoothly. 

But you didn’t want to raise suspicion, so you went along with Lee, keeping as much distance away from his as you could. He kept his iron grip, nearly causing you to stumble up the stairs, your shoes catching on the carpet. His hands were so much worse than Javier’s, demanding and harsh; the hands belonged to someone who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

When you reached the top floor, you let your facade drop slightly, looking around for some exit. Every door looked the same, a deep mahogany, and the hallway seemed to extend to infinity as he marched down it. A thin rug extended down the center of the floor, and so you tried your hardest to walk along the hardwood floor, praying that Javier would hear the approaching noise of your heels. 

Wordlessly, he suddenly halted in front of one of the doors, opening it quickly, pulling you in forcefully. It was at that point you were debating screaming. Would someone come help you? Would they be able to even hear you over the party? Lee was not a large man by any means, old and scrawny, but he still had the upper hand right now. And you didn’t know if he had any weapons on him, and you weren’t too keen on finding out. 

The room, thankfully, was devoid of any other people besides you and Lee. He finally let go of your wrist, and you snatched it close to you, rubbing at the hurt skin. He stepped further into the room, passing by a large closet and dresser that housed a washbin before reaching the bed. Keeping his back turned to you, he slowly began to undress. Now, you debated running out the door behind you. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to get far, your shoes and dress restricting you from moving easily.

Your mind was made, however, when you saw the closet door creak open, and you barely suppressed a surprised noise. A familiar figure stood hidden in the shadows, various jackets and garments hiding him further, and you nearly cried in relief. It was at that point you noticed the large desk and safe in the corner, your theory that his bonds would be in his room being right. Javier tried to exit, but you stopped him with a panicked look. One slight turn from Lee and he would see. Even in the dark, you could see the conflict on his face, and you held up a finger, telling him to wait. He nodded, and you saw the glint of a blade, which helped to ease your worries. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Lee’s gruff voice made you jump, and you turned your attention back to him. He still had his back to you, working off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his jacket discarded on the bed. 

You didn’t dignify him with a response, making your way to the large window that faced the streets of Saint Denis. It was partially open, a cool night’s breeze tickling your skin. “Don’t think about jumping,” you heard him try to joke, but it came out more as a threat. He had sat on the bed as you approached the window, and you heard the wooden frame creak as he got up. You retrieved the hidden blade from your clutch, pulling off the fake comb top. It was a tiny little thing, a needle compared to the hunting knife you saw Javier frequently use, but it could cause some damage if need be. 

Holding it to your chest, your breathing slowed as you heard him approach, floorboards creaking with each slow step. “I’ll make sure you get paid after this.”

“I said I was a working girl.”

He scoffed. “Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” He took another step towards you. “Get on the bed.”

With the assurance that Javier was also in the room, you found yourself surprisingly confident, shaking your head at his question. That pissed him off, and you could feel the anger beginning to roll off of him. Still, you faced away from him, gripping the blade so tightly that your fingers ached.

“It wasn’t a question. Get on the bed.”

“And I said no.”

In surprising swiftness, you felt his fingers grasp at the back of your neck, and you figured he would’ve gone for your hair if it wasn’t pinned up. His fingers had merely grazed your skin before you were spinning around, the blade flying at his face with unrestrained fury. A streak of crimson cut through the air as you hit your mark, the blade running across the entire side of his face, barely missing his eye by a quarter of an inch. He stumbled back a few feet, shocked, clutching the side of his face. 

Blood poured from his fingers, and he looked up at you with hate in his eyes. “You whore! C’mere!” Lee attempted to lunge for you, but was easily stopped Javier wrapped his hand around the face of the man, muffling him as he pulled him down to the ground. His knife pressed into the delicate skin of his neck, pressing so hard that droplets of blood began to appear. A shocked noise that turned into a muffled noise left Lee’s mouth, turning into a cry when Javier dug the knife in deeper. A satisfied smirk graced his lips when he heard Lee reduced to a whimpering mess, and his blazing eyes found yours. 

Ignoring your desire, you sighed in relief, and you let your arms loosen, the blade falling to your side. “What do you want to do with him, mi amor?” Javier sounded almost breathless, and you watched as the blood from Lee’s wound began to coat Javier’s hand. 

A part of you wanted to see him dead on the floor, but you refrained yourself. “Let him live,” was all you said, not bothering to give an explanation, not that you had one; you just didn't want him to die. 

Not yet, that is.

Letting out a sigh that almost sounded like disappointment, Javier adjusted his blade so that it was no longer completely digging into Lee’s skin. “You’re lucky that I listen to what she tells me, cabrón. If she wasn’t here, you’d be long dead. You know what…” Javier moved his hand so that it no longer covered his mouth, but he kept his blade where it was, ready to move if he decided to make a noise. “Why don’t you tell her how thankful you are that she spared your miserable life?”

Lee took a few shuddering breaths, tears mixing in with the blood that streaked down his face. “T-Thank you,” he rushed out, eyes squinting closed as he braced himself for the final blow from Javier.

“And…”

“And?” Lee practically squawked. 

“You said some pretty nasty things to her. Maybe you ought to apologize.” You watched Javier’s jaw clench as he recalled the small bit he heard, and it was evident that he was using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just end Lee then and there. If he knew what all was said to you, then Lee would be lifeless right now.

“I’m sorry!” Lee cried out, and Javier gave an approving noise in response. You couldn’t care less if he apologized to you. Quite honestly, it was much more rewarding watching Javier force the man into submission. You realized watching him like this was turning you on, growing increasingly warmer despite the cold air from the window. 

You needed to speak to a doctor. Or a priest. 

“Very good,” Javier praised, his voice gravelly. “Now that that’s out of the way.” With ease, you watched him flip the knife around his fingers, now holding it in a way that allowed him to bash the butt of it against Lee’s head. He fell to the ground like a sack, body hitting floor with a thud. 

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, too many emotions running through your body. Anxiety still persisted in your brain, reminiscing over all the what ifs and scenarios that could have transpired if Javier hadn’t been in the room. You were grateful that he was here, and there was that feeling in your chest again, increasing with every beat of your heart. And much to your surprise and embarrassment, you found yourself aroused, every fiber of your being needing Javier.

He stood in front of you know, deep concern in his eyes as he regarded you. You watched as he raised his hands up, ready to wrap his arms around you, until he saw the blood on his hand, and realized you wouldn’t want to be touched right now. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Without saying anything, you placed the blade back into your clutch, not bothering to recover it back up. You grabbed the handkerchief instead, and you felt his eyes on you as you grasped his wrist gently with your other hand, pulling it towards you. He had his jacket on still, which did enough to hide the blood that stained his clothes, but a few specks still dotted the white sleeves of his shirt that poked out.

Pulling him toward the wash bin, you dipped the handkerchief into the water before you got to work on wiping away his skin. He tried to protest, but you cut him off with a gentle yet firm look.Javier set his blade on the dresser, and the two of you stood in silence, the only sound your breathing and the occasional splash of water as you redipped the handkerchief into it. The water turned from clear to a rusty brown as you worked, which you watched with rapt attention, scared of how you would react when you looked into his eyes. 

As you dipped it into the water for the final time, Javier finally spoke, his voice still a bit raspy. “Guess you don’t need those knife lessons, then.”

You chuckled, setting the rag down on the dresser as it turned into a loud laughter that shook your body. You weren’t quite sure why you were responding like this, but you figured it was probably shock. You didn’t even register that you were crying until you felt his freshly cleaned hands rest on the sides of your face tentatively, growing more confident when you nodded your consent. He murmured your name softly, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Mierda, sorry. It was a bad joke…”

“It was funny,” you said through tears. “It’s just… God, I felt so weak. I haven’t felt that scared since… forever.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

You shook your head, mouth opening to respond, but a fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm you. Not trusting yourself to speak, you practically crashed yourself against his chest. Javier cried out softly, startled, as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in close in a tight hug. His familiar scent helped to calm you, and when you felt him reciprocate the hug, strong arms tight around you, you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You're sure your makeup was running on to his jacket, but it didn’t matter now; it was already dirty. 

His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, and he rested his head on top of yours. You're not sure if he held you for a few moments or a few hours, time seemingly nonexistent beyond the two of you. But of course, reality was quick to catch up with you, the sound of the door being kicked down hardly pulling you from his embrace as you spun around, grabbing the knife on the dresser before Javier could.

Arthur stood in the doorway with his hands up, eyes flicking from the knife in your hands to the man unconscious on the floor, quickly connecting the dots. “Don’t do that shit, Arthur,” you snapped, practically slamming the knife back down on the dresser. “I could’ve hurt you…”

“Are you alright?” He asked, typically not caring for his own safety. He approached you like you were a spooked horse, though, which was quickly annoying you.

“What do you think, you idiot?” A voice behind you interjected, and you felt him slide his hand across you back as he moved around you. His eyes were blazing with anger, getting into Arthur’s space. “What the hell happened?” You watched Javier shove the other man, which he took, guilt evident on his face, but you saw the angry storm clouds begin to roll in behind Arthur’s eyes. 

“You had one job, and you fucked it up!” Another shove, and you watched Arthur’s jaw clench. “You nearly got her assaulted!” Javier's voice had raised significantly in volume, emotion causing his voice to break ever so slightly as he spoke. “How did you-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur finally snapped, which was a hard thing to do. Guilt probably snipped his fuse, and the immediate attack by Javier ignited it. “You don’t think I’ve been fightin’ like hell to get up here?” He scoffed. “It ain’t my fault you asked the most recognized man in camp to tag along with y’all!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Javier challenged. “You wanna know why, then, you asshole? Because you’re the only one I trust to make sure nothing happens to her,” he snarled, jabbing his finger into Arthur’s chest. “You think Micah, or Sean, or Bill would give two shits if someone dragged her away?” He shook his head with a sneer on his mouth. Arthur didn’t respond, but his silence was all that Javier needed. He took a breath, stepping back a few paces from Arthur. 

“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, right?” Arthur’s voice was soft, which was surprising given the circumstance. “But you know she doesn’t need our constant protection, right?”

Whatever temporary peace that had been created between the two men shattered instantly, Javier getting right back into the other man’s face. “She didn’t even have a damn gun, Arthur. All she had was a tiny knife that could barely hurt a mouse. The only reason she managed to get him,” he pointed angrily at Lee, not bothering to turn his head to look at him, “was because she caught him off guard. And I know she doesn’t need my- our protection. I’ve seen her toss men double her size to the ground with ease, I’ve seen her knockout men with a single punch. I’ve seen it all.” Javier took a deep breath before continuing. “But that was when she was free to move, without having that goodman dress on. She can barely even walk, let alone defend herself tonight.”

“You stepped in before anythin’ could happen.” Arthur tried to reassure the man.

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I had been in another room, too busy robbing that bastard to even notice? What if there had been more than one guy in here? What if he drugged her, or what if I didn’t hear her approaching down the hallway?” Javier began to pace as he ranted, running his fingers through his hair, pulling part of it out of the tie.

As entertaining and endearing as it was to hear them argue about you, you were tired of being talked about like you weren’t even there. Clearing your throat gently, you got their attention, Arthur giving you an apologetic smile. Javier took a little bit longer to catch your eye, having to turn around to do so, but you watched as the fire in him immediately fizzled out as he looked at you, any anger left in his body leaving in a final shaky exhale. 

You smiled gently, folding your hands in front of you. You had taken your gloves off during their disagreement, the garments becoming wet while you cleaned Javier’s hands, and you had tucked them away into your bag. You watched as his gaze went down to your intertwined hands, a smile about to grace his own lips before it was overtaken by a shocked gasp.

Everyone’s eyes in the room followed where Javier was looking, with similar reactions across the board. Where Lee had gripped you was an already bruise in the shape of his hand, encompassing almost the entirety of your wrist. You hadn’t realized he grabbed you that hard. Looking back up, you saw an outraged look on Arthur’s face, but it was nothing compared to the sheer hatred and disgust on Javier’s. You were grateful that you still had his knife by you, or else Lee’s blood would be spilt right now. 

A combination of curses and Spanish left Javier’s lips as he pulled away from Arthur, finally giving the other man space. You expected him to make his way over to you, which he started to do, but he halted a few steps in. Confused, you cocked a brow at him, and he just shook his head, backing away backwards toward the door. “I’m gonna get the carriage,” you heard him mutter, eyes fixated on the bruise on your wrist as he continued to back away. 

“Javier-” you tried to stop him, but it was clear he wasn’t in the right headspace to listen. 

“I’ll see you in a minute, mi amor.” And with that, he left you and Arthur alone in stunned silence. 

Trying to not seem too upset, you forced a smile on your face, which probably looked as pained as it felt. “Do you think he got the bonds?” You asked, and the other man looked confused. “You know, the thing we came for?”

Recognition flashed across Arthur’s face, and he shook his head. “Don’t think so. Didn’t have enough time, probably. Why?” You briskly made your way over to the safe, getting down on your knees ready to begin cracking it open. “After all that, you’re still worried about the bonds?” Arthur asked in disbelief. 

“After all that, I ain’t returnin’ to camp empty handed. Now, tie him up for me,” you gestured at Lee, and Arthur nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, but he still complied, and you rolled your eyes before preparing yourself to get to work. You weren’t an expert at cracking safes by any means, but you could get it done with enough time. The metal was cold against your face as you pressed it against it, listening to the inner workings of the safe. You were able to see Arthur move out of the corner of your eye as you began to turn the dial slowly, listening for the telltale click. 

It was when Arthur finished tying up the man that you heard the first click, and you glanced down to see what the first digit of the code was. 

34. 

Moving the dial to the right, you felt Arthur watch you while you worked, but you paid him no mind. That was until you heard him talk, nearly causing you to jump because of how focused you were on the safe. “You know, I haven’t seen Javier that angry in years. He used to be filled with hate and anger toward the world, but it died down as the years passed.” 

You merely hummed along, not fully paying attention to his words. Another click hit your ears, and you took a mental note of the next number. 28. Arthur continued. “I’m still surprised he’s still callin’ you that, like you don’t know what it means.”

Your curious eyes flicked to him, and realization dawned on his face. He laughed with an almost childish grin. “You don’t know what it means, do ya’?”

You sighed. “No, ‘cause everytime I ask, no one tells me! Especially you! Now, hush. I’m tryin’ to concentrate.” Arthur left you alone then, and you continued to turn the dial slowly to the left, waiting to find the final digit for the safe. 

Finally, the third click rang throughout the room, the final digit being 4. The safe door creaked open, exposing its contents to you and Arthur. Inside contained a stack of papers, which you assumed to be bonds, a few clips of cash, and a small gold ingot. With a satisfactory smile, you gestured for Arthur to bring you your clutch, which he did. You pulled the gloves out, quickly slipping them back on even though they were wet. All paper items went into the bag (and you were sure to make sure the blade did not wreck them), and you took the ingot into your own hands. It always caught you off guard, how heavy gold ingots actually were. 

You stood up, heading over to the dresser and grabbing Javier’s knife while handing Arthur the gold ingot, which he stashed away. Where, you weren’t quite sure, but it disappeared from sight. You had just enough room to place the knife in your bag, the thing barely closing before you tucked it under your arm. You left the soiled handkerchief on the dresser, and you started to move towards the door before Arthur’s voice stopped you. “He’s callin’ you ‘his love’.”

“What?”

“Mi amor,” Arthur’s Spanish wasn’t even comparable to Javier’s, but it was understandable. “It translates to ‘my love’.”

You were stunned, blinking back at him with wide eyes. “You’re kiddin’ me.” Arthur shook his head. “This entire time he’s been callin’ me-” you cut yourself off, rubbing a hand down your face, being careful to not smudge the makeup completely. “So you mean to tell me, that instead of me livin’ in constant doubt about how he felt about me, I could’ve known, but you and everyone back at camp refused to tell me?”

Arthur rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, guilt once again eating away at him. He didn’t respond, so you laughed bitterly. “Now I’m startin’ to regret that I didn’t end up hurtin’ you earlier.” Huffing angrily, you didn’t spare either Arthur or the man tied up on the bed a glance, quickly reaching the door in angry strides. “C’mon. I wanna leave this damn place.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, following behind you as you marched down the hallway and back down the stairs. It was easy to slip away from the party, everyone was too drunk or too busy in conversation to notice. The silence outside was a complete shock to your system, your ears ringing loudly as you took a deep breath. 

Just like he said, Javier was waiting beside the carriage, eyes following you as you descended the stairs. It melted any cold from the night, and like in the party, you felt that need for more grow inside you. You felt Arthur move behind you, cutting across the front lawn to reach his horse. As you reached the carriage, Bill’s voice broke the silence. “You get the whiskey?”

Shit. “No, I’m sorry. Things went bad in there.”

Bill sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t speak further. “Here,” you dug out one of the clips of money, practically having to toss it at him, “it ain’t whiskey, but it’s just as good in my opinion.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up, and you knew that he accepted your new gift, tucking it away into his jacket pocket. Javier uncrossed his arms once you were within reach, once again helping you into the carriage. You could practically feel the tension from him, his entire body tightly coiled as you settled into your seat.

Again, you expected to follow in behind you, but he was quickly shutting the door. You stopped it with your hand, and he stopped immediately. “You’re not comin’ in?” Your voice was dispirited, and Javier frowned as he shook his head once. 

“You don’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Javier.” You cut him off, shocking yourself with your directness. “Get in here.”

Wordlessly, he obeyed, sitting across from you again. It looked like he had a thousand things to say, but he remained silent. Bill almost immediately took off, but you better prepared than last time, managing to not lurch forward. To say the air between the two of you was awkward would be an understatement, and you found yourself looking out the window, watching the streetlights as you passed them. 

After about a minute of silence, you saw Javier shift out of the corner of your eye, so you refocused your attention on him. “I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, barely audible over the hoofs of the horses and the sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestone. 

“Javier, you couldn’t have known that would happen,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to take his hand in yours. “And I knew that things could go bad tonight.”

“It’s not that. Well, I am sorry about that, I’m not sayin’ I’m not, but-” he paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry about the way I acted. And for talking like you weren’t right there. And for implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I’m not the one you should be apoligzin’ to,” you laughed lightly, and you felt successful when you saw a light smile on Javier. “And emotions were high tonight, and even the best of us snap sometimes. And you weren’t completely wrong about the dress,” you adjusted the bodice of said dress, trying and failing to gain more room to move.  “But, thank you. It… it means a lot.”

A lot of the tension dissipated from Javier as you accepted his apology, leaning back against the back of his seat finally. He had taken off his jacket while he was gone, leaving him only in his vest, necktie and undershirt, and the sleeves had been rolled up, hiding the splotches of blood from view. Even in the dim light, you were able to clearly see the definition of his forearms flexing against the shirt, even more so when he crossed his arms against his chest. 

Thick veins traveled down his hands and arms, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts of what those hands might be able to do to you from running through your head. It surprised you, having these thoughts. If you had had these thoughts days, or even hours ago, your mind would be spiraling into a panic. Instead, you found your mind spiraling into lustful thoughts, and you found yourself having to look away, cheeks growing warm. 

Javier didn’t seem to notice your staring, too deep in thought to do so. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you have me kill him?” Anger flashed in his eyes at the thought of the other man, but he kept in check.

You still weren’t quite sure, and you voiced that to Javier. “I think I didn’t want you to because I was having a good night, and watching someone die kinda ruins that.” If your words were blunt, Javier didn’t seem to care. 

“A ‘good’ night?” Javier looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Mi amor, if that’s your idea of a ‘good’ night then…” he trailed off.

Now knowing what he was saying, you felt your heart skip a beat. You should’ve realized a long time ago what it meant, you realized. His voice was always filled with adoration when he said it, and a bashful yet cocky smirk would follow. “Besides the last twenty minutes,” you laughed. “I was having a good night because I was with you, my love.” It felt like a confession, and you kept your voice low, but you were sure to add extra emphasis on the final two words.

Javier’s eyes widened, forearms flexing as he readjusted his crossed arm. “Finally figured it out, then?” He teased, but there was an underlying panic in his voice, not aware if you liked it or not. 

You nodded, diverting your gaze as you prepared for your next question. “Do you mean it?” Your voice was small, vulnerable.

Javier responded with a confused noise. Shifting nervously, your hands felt clammy under the gloves. “Do you mean it when you call me ‘my love’? ‘Cause I know you like me, and that’s great…  but I want to know.” Do you love me? You breathed shakily. Why was this so hard? 

Silence fell over the carriage, and you dared to look back at the man across from you. His arms now rested on his elbow, and when he noticed your attention was back on him he smiled, extending a hand for you to grab. When you did, he covered it with his other, kissing the back of it before doing so. You almost wished at that point that you hadn’t put your gloves back on, wanting to feel his lips against your skin. 

“I said I would never lie to you, and I mean it. I never said anything to you that I didn’t believe.” He shifted closer to you, your knees pressing against each other. “I mean it, every single time. I…” It would’ve been funny, in any other context, to see Javier at a loss for words. “I know there are thousands of different ways I could say this, but I can’t remember a single one. It’s like my brain just turns off whenever I’m near you,” he chuckled.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you were sure Javier could hear it. It burned where your hands were connected, but it was a delicious pain, one that you never wanted to be rid of. It was reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one who got nervous around the other, then. 

“So, I guess I’ll keep it simple, then. I love you, and, if you’ll have me, I want… you. I want to be by your side, through the good and the bad. I want to wake up by your side, your voice the first thing I hear every morning. I want to know your thoughts, your fears, your desires.” He sighed, smiling. “I, well, I guess all that was to say I mean it.”

You expected to feel a sense of dread, some sort of anxiety over your changing relationship, and what that could possibly lead to, but you found none. Before you could even register what you were doing, you were leaning into him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t long, lips barely there for even a second before you were leaning away. You gasped slightly when you saw the red mark left there by you; apparently you still had more makeup on than you thought. Between curses and apologies, you began to wipe it away with your cloth covered thumb, which seemed to just smear it around. 

A light tug at your hand had you stopping, your name being said softly focusing your attention back on to the man. He didn’t seem to mind that your lipstick was now on his face, and his eyes were filled with unbridled love as they danced across your face, before finally settling on your lips, then back up into your eyes. His hand was no longer holding yours, instead it was trailing up your arm, up your neck, finding purchase on the side of your face, holding you with such reverence that it almost brought tears to your eyes. 

His eyes went back down to your lips, a soft plea in his gaze. “Let me kiss you,” Javier asked, restraint pulling his voice down an octave. Slowly, you brought your hand up, brushing away a few strands of hair that had been pulled from the tie. His eyes closed at your touch, a pleased noise escaping his mouth. Those same eyes opened when he felt you nod, and you hadn’t realized how easy it was to get lost in them until this moment.

He closed the distance between the two of you, thumb brushing your cheek as your lips finally connected. It felt like everything finally clicked into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. Everything felt right, and you sighed happily against his mouth, resting your hands on his thighs.

It was a short kiss, merely testing the waters, with Javier pulling away first. He rested his head against yours, simply savoring the moment. A quiet, giddy giggle left you, causing Javier to raise a brow. “It’s nothin’… I’m just happy.” It was almost childish, the reason you were really giggling, but who wouldn’t be happy after their first kiss.

“Good,” he murmured, before a concerned look crossed his face.

“What?” You asked, immediately thinking the worst. 

“It’s your lipstick.” The thumb that was on your cheek shifted to your lips, running against the lower one.

“What about it?” You had no idea where he was going with this. 

“It’s not nearly wrecked enough,” he lamented, and you felt his thumb pull your lip slightly, causing the rouge to smear. 

“Are you gonna fix it, then?” You challenged, slowly running your hands slowly up and down his thighs. You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. All you knew is that you wanted his mouth on yours again. 

“Gladly,” Javier purred, pulling your face to him as he kissed you again. Instead of simply holding his lips to yours, you felt him begin to move this time. It was messy and passionate and it had your head spinning. Gripping on to his legs tighter, you were able to ground yourself. That was until you felt his tongue run against your bottom lip.

You gasped, pulling away an inch to give yourself a moment to breathe, all the foreign sensations causing you to become breathless. Javier, with some visible restraint, didn’t chase after you, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It was at that point that you felt that you almost had a death grip on the man’s legs, and you let go with a soft apology. 

He paid it no mind, and you felt his hold on your face lax a bit. “You’ve never kissed before, have you?” He wasn’t anywhere close to being rude about it, but the question still had your blood running cold.

Embarrassed, you felt your face flush even more. You tried to pull away, but he kept you close. You shook your head, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Was it that obvious?” You mumbled, quite upset. Javier went to respond, and you braced yourself for the words that your brain trained you to expect. 

What you weren’t expecting was him to be smiling at you, thumb rubbing reassuringly on your cheek again. “I only noticed because you seemed less confident,” Javier explained, with no hint of judgment in his voice. “I guess we need to practice some more, then,” he added with a playful grin. 

“I love you,” you whispered, before your hands were grabbing both sides of his face and smashing his lips against yours, both of you smiling into the kiss. Any remnant of anxiety about him vanished as you kissed him, feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in a while. You pulled him toward you as you sat back in your seat, ignoring the way that the bodice of your dress pressed uncomfortably into your skin. You couldn't be bothered to feel it; all that your senses could feel was him. 

He followed as you brought him close, getting on his knees on the carriage floor as he kept his lips locked on yours. Even despite being on the ground, his face was still relatively level with yours, if only a few inches lower. You felt him settle between your legs, at least as best he could with your skirt, hands resting on your hips. 

Unlike the other two kisses before, this one had a secondary intent behind it, and you felt that fire in your core return, arousal making you dizzy. You wanted more, and you’re sure that Javier was more than eager to give it to you. One of the hands that grasped his face moved behind him, discarding your gloves to somewhere in the carriage before quickly undoing the tie that held his dark hair in place, causing it to fall around his head. Greedily you ran your fingers through it, a pleased groan felt on Javier’s lips as you combed it. 

A nip from him had you gasping, offering him an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. The act surprised you, inadvertently causing you to grasp his hair, pulling the strands into a fist. You felt him moan in response, the hands on your hips squeezing tighter, but he didn’t move them. Pulling him impossibly closer, you tried your best to keep up with the quick movements of his mouth, moving your lips in tandem with his. You were always a quick learner, anyway.

An aggressive jolt from the carriage forced the two of you to separate, gasps and pants filling the silence. Moonlight filtered in, and you were able to see Javier clearly now. You realized you had never seen him with his hair down before, and beautiful wasn’t even close to the right word to describe him. He looked ethereal, and he was all yours, making your heart thrum happily in your chest. 

“You should have your hair down more,” was all you said, smoothing your hand over it. It was soft, well taken care of, and you wanted to keep your hands in it forever. 

“Whatever my girl wants,” he responded, pure bliss on his face. You didn’t even bother to hide the happy noise that left you when you heard him call you his girl. 

Glancing down at his lips, you saw they were practically the same color as yours now, smeared messily across the lower half of his face. You’re sure you looked just as bad, and you registered that it would be hard to hide what the two of you got up to from the rest of camp. But you found that you didn’t care that much. 

An image flashed in your head as you watched him; his exposed chest covered in your kiss marks, from his neck to his hips, a pretty ring of red rouge around his cock. The thought  had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension that was starting to become unbearable, but it was hard to do when there was someone between them. 

Javier honed in on the movement immediately, working at his bottom lip as he stared up at you with blown out eyes. “More?” He asked, the word sounding breathy. 

You nodded, carding your fingers back through his hair to pull him back to you. After meeting you for a quick kiss, you felt him travel down your jaw, peppering kisses along as he did so. You laughed lightly when you felt him move to your neck, the soft prickle of his facial hair tickling you, and he smiled against your skin. 

The hands of your hips began to explore now, one rising up your front, touching lightly over the bodice, causing you to shiver. His other hand traveled downward, down your thigh and past your knee, until it was wrapping around your calf. He wrapped your stocking covered leg around his back, causing your shoe to fall off in the process, hitting the floor with a dull noise. 

Satisfied, the hand on your leg moved to join the other, stopping once he reached the underside of your breasts. Instead of running his hands over the mounds, he bypassed them completely, running his hands across your shoulders delicately. For the first time, his bare hands were on your skin, and it was everything you’d ever wanted. They were deliciously rough, years of hard living making them so, and a number of calluses adorning the tips from playing stringed instruments, but they also felt like silk, rolling across your body like water. It caused another shiver to wrack your body, and he chuckled, vibrations falling from his chest into yours. 

“You’re so responsive,” he noted, his normally smooth voice gravelly. His lips traveled further down your neck, showering your lower neck and collarbones with apt attention. “No one’s touched you like this before, no?” He stated rather than asked, and your silence was a more than adequate answer. “What a shame. They don’t know what they’ve missed.”

“I don’t care,” you said with sheer honesty. “Damn everyone else. I only want your hands on me.”

You felt him pull at the back of your head, pulling you into a searing kiss before pulling away slightly, face mere inches from yours. “Let me make you feel good.” Curious, you gave an inquisitive noise, playing with his hair as you did so. He was already making you feel good, so you weren’t quite sure what he was trying to say.

He let out a small chuckle at your confused expression, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose, which was an innocently sweet gesture. His next words were less than innocent, another wave of arousal crashing through you as he spoke. “Let me taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my mouth.”

You’d be lying if you said that his filthy words weren’t getting you incredibly turned on, but a deep feeling of embarrassment overtook you, and you would’ve turned your head away if you could, but you were forced to just avert your gaze.

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, mi amor,” Javier teased, attempting to get your eyes back on him. “It takes more than a few words to get my girl nervous, hm?”

Laughing mostly at yourself, you finally looked into his eyes, a calming smile greeting you. “So, what say you? Are you going to let me eat you out?” He said it so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t completely turning you into a mess. Forcing back the shame, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Javier wasn’t satisfied, and with a disapproving noise he placed another kiss on your nose, causing you to laugh lightly. “Use your words.”

Javier was giving you a second chance to change your mind, you realized, not wanting you to do something that you would regret. It was a nice gesture, but what he didn’t know was that you made up your mind hours ago; you needed him so badly that it almost hurt. “Please,” you responded, your mouth was moving faster than your brain.

He didn’t respond, smiling gratefully at you, like you just offered him something luxurious. One final kiss met your lips before he was descending your body, trailing back over where his lips had been moments prior. One of your hands tangled in his hair when you felt him ghost his lips across the top of your breasts, grinning when he felt the goosebumps form. He didn’t stay there long, a single goal on his mind as he descended further down. 

When he no longer had exposed skin to kiss, he rested his head by your knees, staring up at you adoringly as his hands continued to travel down. In the back of your mind, you remembered hearing stories from the girls at camp about lovers they had, how they treated going down on a woman like a chore, or how some just outright refused to do. The hungry glint in his eye and the almost desperate touch of his hand told you that you didn’t have to worry about that. 

When he reached your hips, he pulled you forward, forcing you to lean back further in order for your back to reach the back of your seat. If you barely had any airflow then, you had none now, a sharp pain growing in your lungs as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Javier quickly noticed this, a concerned frown pulling at his lips. “Dress,” you gasped out, and he quickly got to work unworking the bow and laces that held the corset bodice tight, a pleased sigh leaving you as you felt it loosen its grip on your body. He didn’t undo it completely, the garment still on well enough to keep your body from being exposed, but it was enough that you could get more comfortable.

You didn’t even get to mutter out a ‘thank you’ before he was getting back to it, hands pulling apart your thighs. Your skirt had bunched up when he had pulled your leg around his back, giving him enough room to sneak his head between your spread legs. Your skirt still covered the entirety of his head, only peeks of hair visible to you.

Warm breath caressed your sensitive inner thigh, and you fought the urge to wrap them around his face. Featherlight kisses were felt next, small jolts rocking through you with each touch, increasing in intensity as he reached your aching center. He tugged at the waistband at your undergarments, having you lift your hips slightly so he could peel them away. Pulling them all the way off, he set them somewhere on the seat behind him.

Your hips bucked when you felt him press a kiss to your exposed cunt, humming appreciatively when he felt your arousal, which had no doubt soaked through to your undergarments. “You’re this wet from kissing?” He asked, mostly to himself, and it was barely audible under your heavy clothing, but you felt the need to defend your dignity. 

“It wasn’t just the kissin’,” you managed to get out, hips bucking again when he yet again teased you with his mouth. You felt one of his arms sneak out from under your skirt, broad forearm settling across your waist to keep you in place. “Watchin’ you threaten him…”

You didn’t have to see him to know he had a cocky grin on his face. “That got you all bothered?” He asked, bewilderment and desire both lacing his question. Warm air hit you as he talked, causing you to squirm anticipatorily in your seat.“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you.”

You felt more than heard the responding growl, his grip tightening on your waist as he ran his tongue through your folds, almost immediately going back through for a second, a third, a fourth time. Rolling your head back, pleased noises tumbled from your lips, your other leg almost immediately joining your other around his back. You felt him mutter something, and the broad swipes of his tongue turned to short precise licks, targeting your clit with precise movements. 

The change in sensations had you crying out, hands scarbling at his arm as you tried to find something to hold on to. He chuckled lowly, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. “As much as I’d love to hear you, we don’t want anyone finding out what’s going on in here, do we?” You both knew damn well that nothing could be heard outside the carriage, but the idea of having to keep quiet to prevent your friends from knowing turned you on more than it should. Your body must’ve reacted some way, and you heard him groan appreciatively. “You are dirty.” He sounded a million miles away, but it still felt like his mouth was pressed to your ear. 

Now attempting to muffle yourself, you bit at your lips, most likely drawing blood. His mouth worked at you so much better than you could’ve imagined, your fingers nothing compared to this. Nothing you had ever done to please yourself had felt this good; now that you had a taste of what someone else could do to you, you never wanted to go back. 

A particularly rough flick of his tongue had you whining, pressing a hand on your mouth to stifle your cries. He brought out every drop of pleasure from your body with such ease, like it was second nature. You felt that familiar pressure begin to form in your abdomen, one that normally took you so much longer to reach yourself. He was almost too good at this, playing your body like it was his guitar, his talented mouth pulling noises from you like he was strumming his fingers across the strings. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his lips latch around your clit, sucking the toying with the sensitive nerves. A plethora of exclamations tumble from your lips, the most frequent one being his name. It seemed to spur him on even more, and you felt his free hand trail up your thigh, resting at the inner junction of your leg and hip. His fingers rubbed soothingly at the sensitive flesh as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. “Javi…” your voice was too breathless to complete his name, and you tried your best to warn him of your upcoming release, which was coming faster than you knew how to process. 

He didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you felt him adjust your lower body so that your hips were almost level with his face, your back hardly able to rest against your seat. The new angle made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around his lower back, so you let them go limp, no longer on the man. Javier didn’t seem to like this, almost immediately taking your legs and resting them on his shoulders, which was much more comfortable than the two previous positions. He hadn’t detached himself during the entire readjustment process, tongue and lips still expertly bringing you closer to your release.

The hand at your thigh moved inward, almost so slowly that you barely registered it. You moaned, slightly startled, when you felt those broad fingers spread you apart, tongue delving between them before almost immediately returning its attention to your clit. 

You felt him move his face downward, the new angle allowing him to do so with ease, his fingers following. Feeling them tease around your entrance, and you half-braced yourself for the intrusion you were sure was bound to happen with his fingers. Instead, you felt them move to where his tongue had been, rubbing them against you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed that had you crying out. His tongue instead teased around your entrance, pushing in a tiny bit before retracting, slowly easing you to take his tongue. 

The pressure in you increased tenfold as he slowly started to fuck you with his tongue, dexterous fingers adding to the ecstasy your body was feeling. “Javier, I’m close,” you managed to murmur out, before crying out again, barely able to muffle yourself this time. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his arm, most likely leaving crescent shaped indents from your nails. 

With his mouth quite preoccupied, the most he could do was groan something in response. Your muffled cries of his name turned to small gasps as pants, teetering closer and closer to reaching your peak. As best you could, you carded your fingers through the hand that held you down, desperately needing something to hold as you came. Without missing a beat, he flipped his hand so that his forearm still locked your hips down, but it gave you his hand to hold, your fingers shaky as you gripped his.

With a final cry of his name, your lips bruising from the way you clamped down on it, you felt your release wash over you. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, fingers and tongue not stopping as he drew out every bit of pleasure from your orgasm. Head thumping against the wall of the carriage, you felt your hips buck slightly with each jolt that passed through your body, letting up in intensity as the aftershocks wore off.

Eventually, Javier let up, a cold shiver wracking your body at the lack of his heat. Pulling back your skirt away from his face, the two of you sat in silence for a second, both processing what the hell just happened. A chuckle spilled from you, a light smile on your face that Javier mirrored. He looked as disheveled as you felt, hair tousled and completely out of place. He only had a few light remnants of your lipstick left, his lower face instead was now covered in your arousal, it glistening in the pale moonlight. A proud smirk greeted you as he realized what you were looking at, and you wiped it away as best you could, resting your hand on the side of his face when you were done. You’re sure you looked like a mess as well, but Javier looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

Pulling him back up to your face level, you smashed your lips against his, and you felt his tongue run against the seam of your lips. Opening your lips to let him in, you let out a groan when you were able to taste yourself, the filthiness of it all causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you. Running your free hand down his chest, you toyed with his belt, a slight desperation in your touch as you unbuckle his belt.

Not even bothering to get it all the way off, you let it hang open, and you fiddled with the zipper, opening it after some difficulty. Brushing your fingers against his cock beneath his underwear, which had become deliciously hard, and you felt him shudder, breaking the kiss to exhale a breathy noise. “Mi amor.” It sounded like a mix of a plea and a warning. 

“Sit,” you whispered, yet it held no room for argument.

After a second’s pause, Javier complied, and you could tell he expected you to follow him with. You would’ve found it funny, the way he let out a shocked moan, when you sunk to your knees, but you only had one thing on your mind. 

Framing your knees on each side of his waist, he moved up the skirts to allow you enough room to straddle his lap. You felt his hands move from your skirts to your waist, and his cock pressed right up against your exposed center. You felt him begin to rut his hips the tiniest amount, running his cock through your folds. It was at that point that reality kind of hit you, and you felt that familiar feeling of anxiety begin to trouble your mind, but you pushed it away. 

One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, and you felt him hold himself upright. “Are you ready?” You heard him ask, the hand remaining on your waist squeezing reassuringly. You nodded, saying a hushed yes as you did so. 

Rising up onto your knees, you adjusted yourself so that the tip nudged your entrance. Both of you let out similar noises as you began to sink down onto him, and you rested your head against his neck. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Sure, the stretch of your muscles as they accommodated the intrusion was unpleasant, but it wasn’t downright painful. “Take it slow,” you heard him say through a clenched jaw.

Holding his shoulders for support, you eased yourself down inch by inch, your moans becoming more frequent as you felt him deeper and deeper inside you. He was already far deeper than you’d ever been able to go with your fingers, and you weren’t even close to having your hips flush with his.

Javier muttered praises to you, moving his hand from between the two of you to rub your lower back. “You’re doing so good,” you heard him say, lips pressing against the side of your head. “Just a little more.”

The slight discomfort you were feeling, the stretch of muscles causing a dull throbbing to spread across your abdomen, was quickly turning into a pleasurable feeling. Mumbling something out in response, you heard him chuckle softly, affectionately pressing another kiss to your head. 

A few more moments passed, your legs beginning to shake from the exertion of holding yourself up. Relief flooded your body when you felt his hips meet yours, and you let yourself relax on his lap now that he was fully sheathed in you. “Just like that, mi amor. You- fuck, you feel so good,” you heard Javier pant, voice raspy. Raising your head from his neck, you pulled him into a messy kiss as you let yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Both of you broke the kiss simultaneously when you began to move, lifting yourself off his cock before sinking back down. It was slow, and the drag of him across your walls felt so incredible that you felt your head rolling back. A gentle hand brought it back. “I want to see you,” was all Javier said. You were sure to keep your head still as you repeated the action again, slightly faster than the last. 

Bitting again at your lip to keep yourself quiet, you were quickly able to fall into a rhythm, moving yourself down his length with increasing speed. Pleasure bloomed in your cunt, and you felt yourself clench around him with another drag. Javier choked our name, which sounded hotter than you thought it would be, and your body reacted accordingly. He moaned out your name again, smirking when your body reacted the same way. “Does my girl like that? Does she like hearing me cry out her name?” It was a rhetorical question, but you still found yourself nodding. 

Your legs were beginning to hurt, but you pushed on, the start of a new orgasm beginning to create itself. You felt Javier's eyes on your face, enraptured by the expressions on it. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found his close examination of you nerve wracking, but right now it was adding fuel to the fire growing in you. 

After a few more moments, your legs were really starting to hurt, barely able to lift yourself again. “Javier, I…”

“Do you want me to take over?” 

When you nodded, you felt his hands secure themselves on your waist. “You did so good, mi amor,” you heard him praise, and you felt him slowly begin to lift you, fingers digging into your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before he was bringing you back down.

It took no time at all for him to return to the pace you had set, lifting you up and down like you weighed nothing. You moaned out his name, your head almost rolling back again, but you caught yourself. His hips began to snap up every time he pulled you down, somehow reaching even deeper than before, and the added pleasure was bringing you right to the edge of your release. “I’m gonna-” another snap of your hips cut you off, an unitelliagble noise replacing your words.

“Me too.” Javier’s voice sounded thoroughly wrecked. “Where do you want me?”

It took a second for you to realize what he was asking, and if your brain wasn’t so filled with lust, your answer would’ve been completely different from the one you gave him. “Inside,” you answered, and you felt him falter completely. 

“Fuck, amor,” Javier began thrusting into you with reckless abandon, and in the back of your mind you prayed that Bill would not be able to feel it. The heightened speed had you reaching your end faster than you expected, and with a quite loud cry of his name you came, walls fluttering around him. Javier wasn’t too far behind, and with one final thrust he spilled into you, warmth flooding you. 

Sagging against Javier, the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. He no longer held on to your waist, trailing his fingers lightly over your back. After pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, you felt him sigh. “As much as I’d love to keep you like this, we are almost back.”

Glancing out one of the windows, you saw that Javier was right, familiar scenery rushing past your eyes. Not bothering to hide the disappointment on your face, you slowly lifted yourself off him for a final time, barely able to do so because your legs were jelly. You made a small whining noise when you felt his release spill from you, and if you weren’t so focused on trying to make it back to your seat without falling then you would’ve seen the way Javier’s eyes darkened hungrily.

You were barely in your seat before he was back on you, having tucked himself back away into his pants, peppering many kisses across your lips and jaw until you were a giggling mess. Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you pulled him into a deep hug, pressing your own lips on top of his head, a happy smile on your face. Content, he sighed deeply, even more so when you started rubbing your fingers across his scalp. 

With a regretful smile, Javier pulled away, and he slowly began to redress you. Starting with your undergarments, which quickly became soaked with his spend. Your stockings were put back on next, your shoes quickly following behind. The act of Javier redressing you almost left more intimate than what you two had just done, and you felt your heart thump erratically in your chest at the reverence of it all. 

Finally, you watched him sit upright on his knees, bringing himself level to you again. With one of his thumbs, you felt him wipe away the rouge that had smudged across your lips, another proud smile gracing him. 

“Did you fix it?” You teased, referencing back to a few moments ago, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

“I think so. Though we can always try again later.” You felt another pass of his thumb under your bottom lip. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

His hand stilled. “Can you blame me?” 

You didn’t respond, and you felt him continue to clean you up. 

When he deemed it done, you felt his thumb rest on your lips, brushing over the plump skin, not making a move to leave just yet. His eyes followed the movements of the digit, widening when you took it into your mouth. Bobbing your head once, you worked it between your lips, releasing it with a pop. Darkened eyes bore in you. “You’re making it quite hard to stop right here, mi amor.” You chose to not laugh at the innuendo. “That’s the point.”

He chuckled, which sounded more like a pained exhale through his nose, before removing his hand away from you. He moved back into his seat, lounging with a content expression, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into his lap. Noticing your staring, you watched him spread his legs, providing you with an unobscured view of the way he was already getting hard again

Your hungry eyes traveled across his lower body, which Javier found highly entertaining, that cocky smirk returning. “And you say I’m insatiable,” he joked, hints of his own desire creeping into his voice. 

Before you could respond, the carriage coming to a sudden halt pulled you two from the little bubble you had created. A glance out the surprisingly not fogged window confirmed that you had arrived back at camp, a brightly lit campfire the only thing clearly visible in the dark night. Sighing, you grabbed the last of your belongings, tucking the clutch back under your arm and stuffing your gloves in your other hand, not bothering to put them back on. You watched as Javier quickly fixed up his hair, smoothing down the strands that were sticking up.

In typical fashion, he left first, helping you out with a hand, the same one that had just pulled one of the two . That fact had you hesitating for half-a-second before grabbing it, and if Javier noticed, he didn’t say anything, but he smirked at you knowingly. Cold air immediately cooled your overheated skin, goosebumps forming where sweat had been. You heard a soft thump on the ground as Bill hopped down from the driver’s seat, nodding at the both of you before retiring to his tent, unaware of what had transpired.

Arthur pulled into camp not a few seconds later, having trailed behind the carriage the entire time, following behind the two of you as you headed over to Dutch once he hopped off his horse. Arthur didn’t say anything, not quite knowing how Javier would react, and he kept his distance. When Javier rested his hand on your back, leading you toward Dutch’s tent, you could feel his stare, and you didn’t have to turn to know that he had a shit-eating grin on. 

You were grateful for the touch on your back, not only because you wanted it, but because it also kept you steady, legs still partially jelly as you hobbled over. If anyone asked, you could just blame it on the shoes. 

Dutch greeted you and the two other men warmly, sitting at a table with Hosea and Micah, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. You three said your own greetings, Arthur moving to slide into the extra open seat at the table. Javier stayed behind you, hand not leaving your body, as you leaned back into him. 

“So, I’m gonna assume that because you’re all here in one piece that it went well,” Dutch began, going straight into business. 

You heard Javier begin to explain to Dutch that it didn’t, and that he couldn't get his hands on the bond, but you cut him off by digging into your clutch, pulling out the the stacks of paper you’d pulled from the safe, along with a few clips of money, keeping one for yourself and Javier. You dropped them on the center of the table along with the gloves, a pleased whistle leaving Dutched as he eyed it, and you tucked the bag away. You’d give Javier his knife back later. “There was also a gold bar, which Arthur had.”

The cowboy nodded, pulling it from a satchel, and you realized that was how he had hidden it before. How he got into the party, you’d never know. Sliding across the table to Dutch, he weighed it in his hands, before passing it to Hosea who examined it more closely. You could feel the shock from Javier, gratitude and curiosity in his eyes as he watched you. 

Micah began to converse with Hosea about the gold, Hosea only answering in short, clipped sentences. Dutch and Arthur were already deep into conversation, Dutch giving you no more than a half-hearted thanks before seemingly dismissing you and Javier. Your skin felt sticky and your undergarments were growing more and more uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than to leave. Javier began to leave, but you stayed put, steeling yourself. You had one last thing you needed to say. 

“Dutch,” you kept your voice neutral, and he regarded you with a hum, still not turning away from Arthur. “Don’t you ever send me on a job like that again.” You tried to not word it like a threat, but it still came out as one.

Immediately, all conversation halted, clear shock written across all the men’s faces. The odd chair creaked as Dutch turned to face you now, his expression unreadable. Never, during the entire time you’d been with the gang, had you ever talked back to Dutch in any sort of manner, and it caught everyone off guard, including yourself. Heart thudding anxiously, you awaited a response from the leader, unable to tell if you had just pissed him off. You watched Arthur’s eyes flick between Dutch and you, also unsure of where this was heading. Hosea seemed to be the only one not worried, and you swore you saw the older outlaw smirk in the low light. 

“And why’s that?” Micah interjected, but you ignored him, biting back the anger that threatened to overtake you. Deep breaths, now. 

After a few beats of tense silence, Dutch finally responded. “Noted,” was all he said, nodding as he spoke. A sound of protest left Micah, but Dutch disregarded it. “You did well tonight.”

Nodding, you muttered a quick goodnight, before quickly getting the hell away from the table before the calmness dissipated. Javier followed not far behind, no longer in reach to touch you, and he laughed so lightly that you barely heard it. Turning your shoulder, you questioned him with a look. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Oh, hush,” you waved him away, ignoring the flush in your cheeks at his compliment. 

“I mean it!” Javier laughed, moving closer to that he was able to stop you with a gentle tug of your waist. You realized that you had walked back to the edge of camp, near where the carriage was parked at the entrance. The two of you were relatively shrouded in the dark, trees helping to block you from the camp. A few people beside the men at the table still lingered around camp, but they were too preoccupied with what they were doing to notice you and Javier. 

“There I was, having completely disregarded the whole job, and you just went along and did it yourself. And you know I normally wouldn’t condone you talking to Dutch like that,” Javier pulled you in close by your hips, his own pressed against your backside, “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find you incredibly hot asserting yourself like that.” He nipped at your ear, his facial hair causing you to giggle. It turned into a moan when you ground yourself against him, feeling the still noticeable bulge there. No wonder he chose to stay close behind you as you talked with Dutch. 

You went to tease him about it, but were promptly cut off when you felt him press himself into you, his member protruding into you, pretty much ready to go. As Javier began to lead you away to the woods, you realized that you were not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.

You found that you didn’t care.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella smut #javier escuella x you #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella

[avocado-writing]

notes: I did a lot of research for this and yes, the manuscript I reference is a real thing. I didn’t put its name in though because that felt a step too far 😂 set in the light, the dark, and the spaces in between after ch3 so hope that’s ok! requests like this give me life.

relationship: aziraphale x immortal!reader x crowley

rated: G, pure fluff

word count: 1.4K

if you like my work you can buy me a kofi!

You’re the one who makes the tea. 

That’s because you’re the only one who changes how you have it: sometimes you fancy a chai, or a green tea, or a lapsang souchong. Sometimes with sugar or a little bit of milk, sometimes with neither, sometimes with an oat alternative. It changes. You’re human, you go through phases. 

But Aziraphale and Crowley? Nah, they’re creatures of habit. Despite the angel’s wide and experimental palate he’s oddly rigorous when it comes to his cuppa. For him, it’s loads of milk and four sugars, drowned to the point where it could hardly be called tea any more. Crowley likes his black and strong and nowhere near anything that could affect the taste. You wring the teabag tortuously into his mug with a teaspoon before grabbing all three servings and heading into the shop. 

You put yours down first, on the side next to the book you’re currently reading, then hand your husbands theirs. They both take them from you in the same way, the way they have done for centuries now, a domestic ritual: accepting the mug you offer and then your hand, pressing a little kiss of thanks and affection to the back of it. 

A heartfelt  intimacy just between the three of you. 

☕️ 

“Hurry Crowley, it’s starting!”

“Yes, yes, alright angel, hang on.”

“We won’t hang on and we’re not pausing it. Not a threat, just a fact,” you call into the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, Crowley emerges from the kitchen with three wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. 

��I’ll be mother, then,” he mutters as the other two of you barely take your eyes off of the telly. You’ve got your legs slung over Aziraphale’s lap and he only takes a break from stroking your knee in absentminded, loving circles to take the proffered glasses from his husband, one for himself and one for you. Crowley plonks down the other side of Aziraphale and throws his own legs over him too, the two of you playing footsie for space across his plush thighs. Eventually the three of you find a comfortable pile and settle in. 

“Another ten weeks of torture begins,” Crowley says as the Bake-off theme ends and the show starts. You nudge him with your toe. 

“You don’t have to watch it with us,” you tell him. He harrumphs but doesn’t argue because, really, of course he’ll watch it with the two of you. It makes you both happy. 

🍞 

Your work is as a consultant for museums around the country, which is a fun way of saying you get paid a lot because you know a lot. But mostly, you only know a lot because you’ve been around for a very long time. So whenever a shard of pottery or a scrap of clothing needs dating they call you to come and put its history into context. 

Also, for the bigger museums, it’s a chance for you to smuggle out the stolen artefacts and return them to their country of origin. You consider it a hobby, a bonus perk of the job. 

You’ve set up this exhibition. It’s for pottery around the end of the Roman rule in Britain, stuff you’ve found and identified around the country on archaeological digs. You lead Crowley and Aziraphale through, discussing your findings in detail, before you come to a small, surprisingly intact, terra sigillata oil lamp. It sits on its own, spot lit. You asked for it that way. 

“See this? I made this. Over a thousand years ago,” you tell them, quietly, gently putting your hand to the glass of the display case. Aziraphale and Crowley take a careful look at the engraving on the object. It bears the profile of a man, and with the sharp cheekbones and little glasses there’s only one person it could be. 

“Oh, Nightingale. It’s lovely,” Crowley says, surprisingly touched. He wraps an arm around you and buries his face into your hair. 

“You could say I’ve held a flame for you for a long time,” you say, and grin. Crowley groans. 

“Did you put my face on a lamp just to keep that pun up your sleeve?”

“Maybe.”

🔥 

You next return to the museum when you pick up that Aziraphale is jealous. He isn’t jealous often but he’s pants at hiding it, and it’s not hard to guess why: he’s just seen that Crowley stuck with you for such a long time you put his face on a piece of bloody pottery. You’d probably be a bit put out too. 

So for a couple of weeks you throw yourself into your work to find the thing that will make it even. And you do, even though it takes a lot of overseas bargaining and promises to do some pro-bono work. 

You finally get the museum in America to agree to send it over for a showing. You arrange a special exhibition specifically for this, where it’s held behind a huge glass case in a dark room with only a small light on it. 

But you get special access because, well, you’re you. So you sneak Aziraphale and Crowley in one night and walk into the display room, wearing a face mask and a pair of protective gloves. 

There it sits: the Canterbury Tales. One of the oldest versions in the world. 

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Aziraphale gasps, peeping over your shoulder to inspect. “I can feel the adoration coming off of it in waves. This was a labour of love, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. I’d let you have it for the shop if I had the power. But I think they’d notice if I shoved this one down my top,” you sigh, scanning the pages for what you’re after, then stop dead when you find it. 

“Here. Look.”

You point to one of the illustrations, a mounted rider on a beautiful white horse. Aziraphale takes in a quiet breath and draws closer. Because just as plainly as you put Crowley on your oil lamp, you drew your angel in the Canterbury Tales. Curly hair, pink face, beaming smile. 

“Oh my,” he whispers. You stroke the little picture and remember toiling away over painting it, repeatedly wiping your brow to make sure your sweat didn’t smudge your work. 

“I put you in all the copies I could get my hands on. And you,” you turn to Crowley, “your face is probably buried on my pottery in a dozen dig sites across the UK. I’m just saying I’ve loved the two of you since the day we met; always have, always will.”

Your husbands look at each other and then at you, before as one they step forward to embrace you. 

“And we’re lucky to have you,” Crowley whispers in your ear, as Aziraphale kisses your cheek. Their hands meet at your back and they interlace their fingers with each other, you wrap your arms around them and stay like that for a moment; three working parts of a whole. 

They kiss, and then they kiss you. You feel warm and rosy. Then you spend the evening reading through the book from beginning to end. 

📖 

You keep your wedding ring on a chain around your neck at work. Not because you’re embarrassed that you're married; far from it - it’s far too precious to risk losing while constantly taking protective gloves on and off all day. So you don’t blame your colleague for asking you on a date. He’s young, fresh out of uni, and of course has no idea you’re old enough to be his grandparent forty times over. 

“That’s very kind,” you tell him, and his face falls because he knows where this is going, “but I’m already happily married.”

He sighs in embarrassment but manages to recover quickly, instead telling you: “they must be someone special to have you.”

He’s doing the polite thing by not assuming the gender of your spouse but it turns out “they” is right on the money. On cue, Aziraphale and Crowley walk through the door to pick you up at the end of your shift. You wish your colleague goodbye and go to meet them. 

“Evening, darling,” Crowley calls. 

“How was work, my love?” Aziraphale follows up. 

“Oh, fine. I’m tired now. And hungry. Can we go and get dinner?”

You link an arm through either of theirs, heading out into the London afternoon. 

“Ooh yes, that is a good idea. I quite fancy fish and chips!”

“Let’s go to that spot round the corner. They make their own tartar sauce. Crowley, are you getting your own chips or nicking mine when I’m not looking?”

“The best tasting chips are the ones you steal.”

“Oh, he doesn’t even deny it—!”

Your colleague watches you leave the building, a little dazed, and supposes it takes all sorts to make a world. 

Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @idontmeanto @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker

#crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #Request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bloody

PART TWO: RABBIT HEARTED

Also on AO3

Part One // Mini-series masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Bounty Hunter!Reader

WC: 3.8k words

Chapter Summary: During your journey, tension rises between you and the ghoul... but not the kind you expected. You'd built a solid enough rapport, but you found that you both wanted so much more than just that. And so, you let him get a taste.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, THIS FIC IS 18+, Dead dove: do not eat, canon typical violence, the ghoul being the ghoul, swearing, drug mentions/use (chems), enemies to lovers, animal hunt at the beginning of chapter, nudity (both sexual and non-sexual), masturbation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, dirty talking, sorta dom/sub dynamics, a little bit of chasing, outdoor shenanigans, a little bit of degradation, not really any aftercare in this one but pls always practice it irl, aaaand for now that’s all i can think of but lmk if another tag is needed.

---------

A flash of brown fur slipping through the underbrush immediately made you still. You kept your eyes peeled for the smallest movement, breathing as quietly as possible… and there it was, a little rabbit. Nose twitching, ears standing at attention, eyes dark and wide. 

Slowly, you raised your crossbow – which you had luckily been able to recover along with part of your pack, another little courtesy of the ghoul – and aimed at its throat. A slow breath expanding your lungs as your finger came to rest on the trigger.

A reedy squeak as the makeshift bolt pierced through, and it slumped on its side. You smiled to yourself victoriously, bending down to retrieve the carcass, hooking it next to the other one already hanging from your belt. It wasn’t much, but it’d get you through the next day if you rationed it well.

The ghoul had, of course, made you the one in charge of food. You’d been hunting for yourself for as long as you could remember, so it wasn’t an outlandish order, but that didn’t mean you weren’t huffy about it.

At the very least, it meant he wouldn’t keep you tied to him at all times.

A few days of strenuous trekking had passed, and while you were keenly observant of your surroundings, you had not attempted escape once. In fact, you never strayed too far, knowing he could find and retrieve you with ridiculous ease.

But it wasn’t just that. This was the closest you’d ever been to finding  Axl, and even if you knew you couldn’t — shouldn’t — fully believe the ghoul’s word, the fact that he had saved your life had to mean something.

Then again, he probably just wanted someone to keep him fed, but only time would tell. For now, you had to keep pushing forward, taking the days as they came.

Tired, you stalked over to a rock outcropping that overlooked the sandy wasteland below. The silence was only vaguely punctuated by a breeze that made you all too aware of how your tattered clothes clung to your sweaty skin. 

It was spring, so the sun wasn’t at its most brutal, but walking, and climbing, and hunting for hours every day still took a toll on you. Not to mention, nearly being brutally killed.

Oh, how you yearned for at least a bucket of clean water to wash yourself off.

The last time you’d been able to do so was when you’d stopped in Filly to restock on some supplies. You were running dangerously low on caps, which prompted the ghoul to offer you a loan.

“We could figure out the interest later,” he’d said with a wink. “I can be a generous fella, believe it or not.”

But you had declined, already knowing well what loans in the wasteland entailed. Perhaps you could take an odd job or two at your next stop, but that depended on how long the ghoul would be willing to linger.

In the meantime, you chose the temporary reprieve of sunning your bare skin and letting the breeze caress it. It wasn’t like you were in a huge rush, anyway, and you desperately needed some time to yourself. You glanced around and kept your ears open to make sure you were alone.

Deftly, you stripped and laid your clothes out so they could also get some sun. You kept your old, wide-brimmed straw hat on to shield your eyes as you looked out at the horizon for a lingering moment. 

You closed your eyes, letting yourself forget the world was an unfair shithole… save for small instances like this one, feeling something akin to peace. You weren’t sure how much time passed, briefly entering a meditative state.

Then you heard it, heavy footsteps emerging from the sparse treeline.

“Jus what the hell is takin’ you so lo— Oh, my. Well, lookie here…”

Your entire body froze, every single one of your nerve endings tingling with awareness. Still, you didn’t try to cover yourself — if anything, as an act of defiance, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing how he rattled you. Plus, nudity wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary in today’s society.

“See something interesting?” You asked casually, glancing at him over your shoulder.

You were startled by the hunger in his gaze, a sly, brazen smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes snagged on the sweat dotting the small of your back, the smooth expanse of your legs, and the curvature of your ass. 

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen, darlin’,” he drawled. “But, boy, if that ain’t a sweet lookin’ peach…”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms below your chest. He let out a low whistle at the sight, hairless eyebrows raising. You could feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, threatening to break through.

“Can a lady not have some privacy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in return and trying not to squirm as his eyes continued to roam.

He huffed in amusement. “You out here in your birthday suit like we at a fuckin’ meat market, what’s the difference if I’m watchin’?”

A small, traitorous thought slipped into your head then — the difference is, I don’t know if I mind too much that you’re looking at me like that… but that can’t be right.

Desire was not uncommon in the wasteland. You’d seen it glinting dangerously in the eyes of strangers as you’d passed, leering grins and rapacious hands sometimes following. You’d heard the sounds of it coming from abandoned places, in little nooks and crannies that were just right for a tryst.

It was a marvel, at that moment, that even a monster could be affected by it…  while also managing to affect you in return.

You had experienced it only a handful of times, but it had rarely been fulfilled. Somehow, though, the ghoul’s gaze had left a fiery imprint on your skin, clinging like an afterthought. Or perhaps a promise.

Instead of insisting he leave, you began redressing, not too quickly as to seem desperate, but also not too slowly as to make it seem like a seduction. You strapped on your pack and your crossbow last, walking past him without a word, bumping your arm against his.

His chuckle trailed after you as you made your way back towards the small camp you’d set up in an abandoned building. While you’d been off hunting, he’d scoped out the place to make sure there were no fiends or mutants lurking about. 

Down in the basement, he built a fire as you skinned the rabbits, only preparing one of them for cooking. You already knew he mostly preferred his meals… raw.

He ate quickly, ravenously even, as you waited for your strips of meat to finish cooking. Then you heard him inhale chem – RadAway, by the looks of it – from a canister, coughing a few times before letting out a long, relaxed sigh.

You watched him sidelong, still trying to figure out the riddle of the man whose name you didn’t even know.

“So… are you ever gonna tell me why you’re looking for Axl?”

“I already told ya, girl, it ain’t none of your goddamn business,” he said slowly, not looking at you as he settled back against the wall. 

You scoffed. “Don’t I have the right to know at least a little bit more about who is herding me along?”

“Y’ain’t got the right to much of anythin’ ‘round these parts,” he said. “Ain’t you a surface dweller?”

You nodded, inclined in part to get defensive over your knowledge of things, but at the same time… It had been so long since you’d had the opportunity to confide in someone else. Not that he was ideal for it, but you had to admit that having company was quite nice.

It highlighted your loneliness, too, and you had to believe that he wasn’t all too different from you in that respect. You stared at the licking flames in front of you, your mind wandering further away.

“My father was a courier for one of the vaults. We only had each other, so he didn’t like leaving me anywhere. Not even when the vault’s overseer offered to take me in so they could care for me,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “He taught me everything I know, even how to fight.”

“Sounds like he was a smart man,” the ghoul commented idly. “Not leavin’ you to rot in them underground prisons.”

You smiled ever so slightly, pleased and surprised to hear his small praise for your father. You felt yourself relax, having been prepared for a fight. Finally, you were able to start eating, making sure to do it slowly as you were distracted down memory lane.

“He was, and I’m grateful for it,” you said. “Shitty as it can be out here, I like the open air, the sun, even the damn rad rains that leave me sick the next day.”

He grunted at that. “What ‘bout ghouls? You like us, too?”

You looked back at him, your smile turning cryptic. “Not all of them.”

A flash of teeth, tongue darting between them. “Well, ain’t much a mean motherfucker like me can do to convince ya.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve.”

“You betcha, I do. Gonna ask me for a demonstration, smoothie?”

At this, silence, coiling tight like a viper readying to strike. You stared at each other, challenging, willing one another to break first. To what end, though? Your stomach flipped at the possibilities.

Before you could think it through — knowing deep down you ought to shut it down completely — you said, “Not tonight.”

You quickly looked away, hands trembling slightly from an influx of adrenaline, your heart racing once more. You painstakingly put away the rest of your rations of rabbit, stomach still feeling hollow. Though you were distracted by the stirring of something unnameable within you, all too similar to curiosity. 

He was loose and languid, in a better mood than most of the time. Bantering like this was more fun than you’d thought it would be, only making you want more. It seemed he was full of surprises, which meant you couldn’t be too unguarded, no matter how much he might make you laugh. 

Or how he seemed to be drawing you in slowly, like a moth to a flame.

———————————-

Those confusing feelings followed you into sleep, plaguing your dreams with images that had you restless and whimpering. Your body felt hypersensitive and warm all over, but still, you didn’t wake.

The ghoul, who didn’t really need to sleep, was privy to all this. He watched from his spot against the wall, the way you tossed and turned, little noises in your throat. He knew it wasn’t nightmares, not with the way your thighs would rub together. You weren’t exactly a peaceful sleeper, but that was the first time it was due to something else — Something he himself had caused.

All the rest of that day, he’d been stuck thinking of the moment he’d found you. The instant lure of your soft skin, the challenge in your eyes, and your raised chin. Distantly, he remembered the myth of an ancient goddess ordering hunting dogs to tear their own master apart, merely for looking at her naked form. 

Wouldn’t that be an interesting fate? he thought to himself, not at all put off by it, especially if the goddess happened to look just like you. 

Throughout the darkest hours of the night, he’d tried palming himself to ease the building ache, but to no avail. So, as quietly as he could, he’d relieved himself listening to the sounds you made, his eyes closed. Imagining his face buried in your cunt, head nestled between your trembling legs. It didn’t take long at all for him to finish.

In the morning, by the time you’d woken up, he had returned to his usual self. He made you share your rations, arguing that you’d go hunting later, anyway. Barely gave you any time to reorganize your pack before he was dragging you out of the basement to check the perimeter for anything salvageable.

Neither of you addressed the previous evening, but there were still lingering looks, excuses to be in each other’s space, and twice as much bickering. The fuse between you two was short, you knew it, but it was all a matter of who lit it.

“How many more days north?” you asked as you’d finally set off, a long day of walking ahead of you.

“A week, then we shift west for another week,” he said, walking behind you as usual. “I better not hear you start complainin’. You slow me down, I’ll leave your ass behind, perky as it may be.” 

You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up a little at that. “How do you know I won’t drop you first?”

“Oh, I know. You need me, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently. “In more than one way.”

You rolled your eyes but had no retort, since he wasn’t altogether wrong. Then your mind pivoted in a more devious direction, wanting to test another theory. It was a foolish risk to take, one that made adrenaline tense your muscles, rabbit heart jackhammering inside your ribcage. You glanced coquettishly at him over your shoulder, and by your grin, he immediately knew something was up.

“And if I ran?” 

“Don’t go actin’ stupid now, I think you know the consequences of that, too,” he said, his tone somehow both a warning and a dare. 

You hummed pensively, covertly making sure your pack was securely strapped to you. You let the silence hang until you rounded a corner up the path, and then your legs were pumping as hard as they would go. A broad, exhilarated smile on your face, nervous laughter bubbling up your throat. 

You heard his yell, followed by his heavy footfalls, approaching much faster than you would’ve liked. A shot burst against a tree trunk as you passed, but you knew he was just trying to scare you. Wincing, you kept running, winding left and right in a zig-zag pattern. 

Not that you were actually planning on going anywhere, but you had always had a thing for pushing the limits. No matter how much trouble it might get you in. 

Spurs clinking growing louder, then the swish of something being thrown. The lasso encircled you, tightening around your midsection before yanking backward. The world around you pinwheeled, disorienting you for a moment.

Your pack braced your fall some, but you exhaled sharply as you landed. Chest heaving as you panted raggedly, your vision suddenly filled with the ghoul smirking down at you.

“Well, I guess stupidity can’t be helped, huh?” He drawled, propping his revolver pistol on his shoulder and crouching down. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d wager you were just tryin’ to get me all riled up…”

“Me?” You said innocently, betrayed by a teasing grin.

And oh, if that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back. He grabbed you by the shirt and lifted your torso to meet him halfway, your faces inches apart. 

“Think I’m playin’ around, sweetheart?” He husked.

You shook your head and  licked your lips, drawing his eyes there. You saw the hunger in them again, flaring to life brighter than before. You felt a pulse deep in your core, the flint striking to start the fire.

You bit your bottom lip, keeping yourself from squirming, and he grunted.

“Hm. No, I don’t think I’ve convinced you well enough, actually.” He tilted his head to one side, eyes returning to yours. “I think I oughta give you more proof.”

His grip on your shirt tightened and you realized too late what he was going to do.

“Wait!” You gasped, but the thin fabric had already given away, messily ripping in half.

You glared up at him. “That was my only backup! Couldn’t you at least let me take it off?”

“Fuck if I care,” he said with a shrug, a low sound in his throat as he pushed the rest of it off of you. “It was in the way.”

He withdrew his hands only to slowly tug his gloves off, dropping them unceremoniously on the ground along with his pistol. His hands were warm and callused as they roamed over the expanse of your abdomen, heading upwards. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned as he reached your bra, but he only tugged it down, revealing your breasts. 

The sound he tried to conceal made your spine tingle, shoulders drawing together, pushing your chest out.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. Such a nice pair of tits,” he husked, pulling a shuddery sound from you as his hands cupped them.

A little bolt of electricity shooting down to your pussy as he pinched your nipples, hard. Brows furrowing with the combination of pleasure and pain. 

“Take this fuckin’ thing off before I rip it off with my teeth,” he growled, a desperate edge beneath his biting tone. “Matter of fact, take the rest of your clothes off.”

You did quick work of unsnapping your bra and wiggling out of the straps of your pack. He shrugged off his coat and moved back to sit against the base of an old, gnarled tree, watching you closely as you kicked your boots off. The shift of your hips as you pushed down your pants, surely teasing him by keeping your cotton panties on.

“Those too,” he grunted, one hand on his pistol, the other palming the prominent bulge in his pants. 

You let them drop with the rest of your things, slowly approaching as he beckoned you, patting his thigh. He pulled you down onto his lap when you were close enough. Raising his hips as you settled, pushing his bulge against your cunt.

“Now look at me,” he said as your mouth slackened, grasping your chin. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, pushing it down, fighting back the ravenous urge to kiss you. “I ain’t gonna take you today, but I will get myself a taste.”

The tip of your tongue darted over the pad of his thumb. A lazy drag of your hips against him made your breathing hitch, but still there was mischief in your eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be able to resist?”

“Oh, I’m positive, honey. I don’t fuck brats,” he said, grinning roguishly. “Not ‘til I tame ‘em first.”

One of his hands came to rest between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward. The other hand cracked down against your ass, making your body jerk. Then he had his mouth on you, lips closing around the hardened peak of your left nipple. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you moaned, clenching around nothing as he nipped at the sensitive flesh. He continued sucking and licking at your chest, the hand that had spanked you tracing lower. The tips of his fingers reaching your cunt from behind, teasing the entrance.

“My… you’re soaked already,” he rasped against your skin, moving to give your collarbones some attention. “Y’like the idea of being punished, don’tcha? Filthy girl.”

He felt your walls flutter at that, cunt sucking a little more of his fingers in. 

“Please,” you gasped mindlessly, knowing you would beg if it came down to it.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he gruffed, making you yelp with a bite to your shoulder. “On your back.”

It was said as an order, but he manhandled you onto your back, on top of the coat he’d shrugged off earlier. Rough hands pushed your thighs apart, putting you on display for him. A ragged sound, and his fingers were parting your soaked, glistening folds. 

“What a feast,” he rasped. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you said, nodding quickly. “All yours.”

“Atta girl, that’s what I like to hear.”

With that, his head dipped and you felt the first exploratory drag of his tongue. A puff of warm air against your cunt as he groaned, the tip of his tongue circling around your clit teasingly.

Your hips bucked, gripping the fabric of his duster beneath you for dear life. His tongue dipped into the source of your ache, the taste of you pulling another long groan out of him.  

“Fuck, such a sweet little pussy you’ve got. And I think it likes me, too,” he said before smearing his saliva and your fluids all over, making a mess of your inner thighs. “Jus’ keeps getting wetter and wetter for me.”

“Keep going, please,” you panted, looking down at him through fluttering lashes. “Feels s-so good…”

“Oh yeah? Does it now?” 

You keened as you felt two of his fingers pushing inside of you. His other hand pressed flat against your navel, keeping you from bucking away from him. He couldn’t help himself, his tongue flicking against your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

He felt you start to tremble, your thighs threatening to shut around his head. He started going faster.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…” the expletive fell from your wanton mouth like a plea, for mercy or… otherwise. “I-I’m… I’m gonna…”

He grunted his approval, feeling you clamp tight around his fingers. His fingers curled, hitting that textured spot inside you that had stars dancing in your vision. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you practically cartwheeled over the edge, ripples of ecstasy numbing all other senses. 

It was the hardest you’d ever orgasmed, and he helped you ride it all the way through. Languished in the cradle of your thighs for a moment longer as your loud moans tapered out into soft whines. When your soul started to slip back into your body, head still swimming, he pulled away and stood up.

He angled his hips away so you couldn’t see the mess at the front of his pants. Heart pounding in his chest in a way that made him feel alive and whole again, erasing the last two hundred plus years from his mind for a mere moment in time. 

But he gave no indication of it. Nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just entirely shattered you, he walked towards your clothes and tossed you your underwear. 

“Clean yourself up and get dressed,” he said, his voice still ragged as he commanded you. “Quickly now, we ain’t got all day. I’ll let ya rest when we get to the next spot.”

Dazed and wobbly-legged, you did as told, wondering how you were supposed to hike for hours after that. He watched you stumble to get your canteen, water dripping down your chin as you drank.

Chuckled to himself with self-satisfaction, the taste of you seared into his mind.

“Maybe you are starting to change my mind ‘bout what I put in my mouth,” he said as you finished dressing. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll need to try again to confirm.”

------

#Cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout fanfiction #fallout smut #Cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard smut #the ghoul fanfiction #minors dni #monster tag #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul smut

[undercoverpena]

BAD DAY

francisco morales x f!reader

warnings: angst. sad girl jo hour. comfort!frankie. bad day!reader. work is mean, and frankie is kind. also wrote entirely on my phone, so if there are errors, pls pretend there aren’t.

you: hey, don’t think I’m gonna come over. had a bad day, just need to shower and sleep. sorry! I miss you xx

it’s been a bad day. rough, horrid. almost turbulent. one of those one-thing-after-another kind of days.

the ones where you fire off a text to cancel plans and lean on the steering wheel to level your breaths.

you’re sorry, and you miss him.

two thoughts which revolve around the ripped-open pit in your brain as soon as you’d put them in the text. because you are, you do. hating yourself for being a disappointment, for letting him down—for wasting his time—as you turn the key to spark your car to life as you lift your head.

the drive home is just as torturous. hitting every red light—the radio playing all the songs which grate. doing so until you flick it off, sitting in the thick silence of your own making.

frankie would make it all better. five minutes in his company, and you’re sure you’d want to smile—you’re just unsure if your face could make it happen. he deserves better than seeing you like this, downtrodden and broken.

when you pull onto your drive, the rain is still coming down—hammering its watery fists against the roof of your car. then it begins pounding on you, doing so until your key unlocks the front door, darkness and emptiness greeting your sad mood like a friend.

usually, you’d care that you're leaving puddles behind you. tonight you don’t. teeth chewing on your bottom lip, cutting the skin, making that copper taste flood your thought.

you think of calling him. selfishly listening to his voice as you try to ask about his day, hoping he won’t ask you about yours. it’s why you don’t call, placing your phone on the side, staring at it under the glow from the streetlight through the window.

tomorrow, you promise. tomorrow you’ll call him.

your clothes make it more challenging than needing to as you peel them from your skin. a bond having been created between flesh and cotton that it makes anger swim with tears. almost feeling suffocated, eyes brimming as your shirt unsticks from your back and meets the tiles with a slap.

then you’re under the shower, letting hot water warm your bones as tears (thick and full of stress) careen down your face.

your fingers have pruned for a while before you turn the water off. stepping out, doing a poor job of drying yourself—and then pulling on one of his jumpers.

the one hung on the back of your bathroom door. an accidental thing he’s left behind—a welcomed one in your eyes.

it goes well with your sweats, not that it matters. your bare feet shuffling across the floor to your kitchen, stomach groaning, droplets falling down your neck to your collarbone. it tickles, distracting you.

you blame that for why it takes a second before you smell it. before you hear it.

sizzling. accompanied by the distinct sound of a knife on a chopping board. a sound you know from only three places: your childhood home, late-night cooking shows and francisco morales.

you doubt it could be any of the former, but as you round the corner, you’re thankful it’s him.

all hatless, rolled up sleeves and soft brown eyes. his gaze on you, taking in the sight of you (likely wondering if he can have his jumper back) before the kindest, most gentle smile slowly adorns his face.

it warms you—the last few parts of you that the shower did not.

you almost ask how, why. lips curling around them, yet something clogs in your throat. sticks to the side, latches in and makes it hard to form syllables, never mind words.

deep down, you know the answer to both, anyway: it’s just because.

because this is more than dating.

because you matter—more than he can find words for, and your ears are ready to hear.

because he cares for you—knew you needed him, and this is how he cares.

your bottom lip wobbles at the silent answer. the one your brain fills in from how his brows lift ever so slightly and his eyes pool with more adoration.

more tears threaten to break the dam at the sight.

something he must be able to tell, wiping his hands down his worn jeans, leaving the knife and the half-cut salad as he moves towards you, closer and closer.

you don’t feel him make impact at first, but you smell him. all cedar and musk, a scent you associate with home—with him.

and then you feel him, his chest against your front, his neck against your face as his arms wrap around you, as though he can hold you together with sheer will.

maybe he can.

because it feels okay now, he’s here—he’s safe.

and while you hadn’t wanted to cry, you do. but not because you had a bad day. but because you’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve him.

he’d known something was wrong at lunchtime. when you’d called him, voice all soft—edges of your words brittle.

his gut worry had been confirmed when he read your text.

something niggling, twisting inside of him. so much so, he didn’t think as he grabbed his hat and keys. put his truck into reverse and pulled off the drive.

it crossed his mind he should call. check. not wanting to invade your space, yet—

Frankie has been shut out before, by others. the silence (them wanting something but not asking) cracking down the centre, not sure what to do, even less so when they rounded on him, asking why he didn’t do this and he didn’t do that. I shouldn’t need to ask for you to be there. but it turns out they did.

with you, though, he knew. knew what needed to be done, what he wanted to do. it’s why he pulled up outside your place—spotting your car in the drive. the car lights being cut, the wipers stopping as more rain blurs his sight.

you were home, but the lights weren’t on.

his teeth nipping at his thumb, eyes staring—waiting, wondering. seconds stretch into minutes. the feeling—the one stemmed from a need to make sure you’re okay—tightening in his chest.

fuck it, he thinks, getting out of his truck, moving to yours, spotting how it's unlocked, a dread filling him as he moves up the porch to your door.

earlier, weeks ago, you’d told him where you kept a spare. half-hidden, one of those Amazon-bought fake rocks, and a sea of others so similar around it. he didn’t need to furrow, to search, he knew the one—saved it in his mind when you showed it to him.

for emergencies, you’d said—but your lips had curled into a smirk. like? he’d questioned. and you’d shrugged, faking innocence. you might fancy breakfast with me or something?

it slides into the lock with ease, turning it—greeted by no shout or scream. he steps in, his boots squelching, seeing small puddles that lead a line.

then he hears it—

a shower and your sobs. ones that echo out and hammer against him—pecking at muscle and flesh.

it takes him no time to find your car keys, lock your car before he shuts the door behind himself. his hat removed, boots following before his jacket slides off, and he folds it near your door.

just until you’re out, he tells himself. palms spreading down his thighs, moving to your kitchen, checking you have food, only to find no leftovers, nothing quick.

frankie knows you well enough to know that you don’t cook for yourself much, even when you’ve not had a bad day. his hands moving, rolling up his sleeves as he stares at what you have—an array of choices hurtling through, ones that require spices he can’t be sure you have. so he does the best he can.

frying. chopping. so focused on being quick, tidy—he looks up to find you standing there.

there’s not a version of you he wouldn’t find attentive. you took the breath from his lungs that first night you smiled at him—made his heart double its pace when you talked to him for the entire night.

but you looked worn out, tired, and drained. like you’d had chunks of you taken out all day.

and it hurts, wounds. cuts more than a blade from an attacker or a bullet from an unseen rifle. his hands releasing the knife, hearing it—even if you’ve spoken no words.

why?

because, he wants to say. because you’re having a bad day, and it’s the least I can do.

because I care, and this is how I can show you.

you matter. a lot.

but he doesn’t say any of that, instead hoping the words make it to you from his stare. wiping his palms down his jeans, turning down the cooker as he moves closer, watching, wanting you to have time to push him away if you so wish to.

you don’t.

relief flooding, mixing and concocting with the earlier worry—not settling until he has you close. chin on your head, feeling your breaths along his neck—your hands balled up on his shirt, clinging to him as though he’s all you need to breathe.

frankie gets it.

as he holds you to him, feels you wobble and crumble, he’s pretty sure you’re all he needs to, as well.

an: I made myself cry, if I’m honest—huge thanks to G. I heart you.

#francisco morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier x reader

[captainpricelover]

Spiderdilf

Peter b. Parker x f!reader

Word count - 2k

Warnings: Profanity, large age gap(18-39) infidelity. Smut!!! P in v sex. Slightly rough sex, Peter cheats on MJ with Mayday’s babysitter

Names used: Angel, Doll

You babysit part-time to help pay for tuition but also lashes and nails. I mean who isn’t a high-maintenance girly nowadays? This isn’t your first babysitting job but it is your hardest. The child you babysit, Mayday is very special she is basically Spiderman but that isn't the hardest part of this job, the hardest thing is probably the thing in her dad's pants every time he sees you.

You never thought you would spend 20 minutes attempting to get Mayday down safely from the ceiling, but here you are. The chair under you wobbles as you stretch your limbs trying to grab the ginger child.  Peter walks in, and the noise from the front door startles you, causing you to lose your balance. Mayday finally decides that she's bored of the ceiling and jumps down into your arms. All this causes you to lose your balance, you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten your grip on Mayday bracing for contact with a hardwood floor. But it never happens instead, you find yourself being carried bridal style by Peter.

“Don’t worry I got you, kiddo,” He smiles while squeezing your thigh before placing you down on the floor and taking Mayday from you. Peter’s hair is slightly messy, and the jacket from his suit is tossed over his shoulder while his tie hangs loose around his neck. 

“Where’s MJ?” You ask slightly tilting your head. 

“Work emergency,” He laughs “Taste of my own medicine I guess, I’m the one usually running off halfway through the date due to work,”

“Was your date still good?”

“The food was delicious, got some in a box in the car, you can snack on while I drive you home if you want to wait in the car. I'll be there in a few minutes,”

“I mean you paid me for a couple more hours so I don’t mind helping you put her to sleep and cleaning  with the uh-mess”

 The house was a state, Mayday’s toys are scattered everywhere, and her costumes completely cover the sofa, crayons on the walls and even the ceiling. It wasn’t a one-person job barely a two-person job but hopefully, you and Peter could make it work. 

“It's also partially my fault your house is like this, so I’ll feel guilty if you make me go now”

“Don’t blame yourself, Mayday is a handful. The number of babysitters who quit within the first few minutes”

“Minutes?” You laugh

“Sometimes its seconds, Mayday is pretty picky but she seems to like you,”

Neither of you has noticed the fact that she's fast asleep in Peter’s arms but when you do your conversation stops, slowly down both of your movements making sure not to make any noise that would wake Mayday up. Peters nods his head, signalling that he's off upstairs. You smile before heading over to the lounge as you begin picking up Maydays toys and putting them in a basket. A few minutes pass before you hear Peter walking down the stairs but he doesn’t come into the lounge instead you hear the front door open. Shit. There's probably a spider-man related emergency, you carry on cleaning but are surprised when Peter comes back through the front door, carrying his leftovers in a white plastic bag

“You hungry?” He smiles slightly lifting the plastic higher into the air

“A little,” To be honest you were staved looking after Mayday drains all the energy out of you.

Peter puts the food in the microwave before pushing some newspapers and files into a pile, clearing a space for you to sit on his island. You happily sit on one of the stools as the microwaves bing. He takes the food before sitting on the stool next to yours, placing the food in between the both of you. You admire the domesticity of the scene, you never had a man cook for you before (Microwaving food is 100% what Peter considers cooking) There's always been a feeling of admiration for Peter, but seeing him now and being alone in his presence, you’re starting to believe you might have some actual feelings for him. 

“So, you got a boyfriend?” Peter asks trying to make small talk 

“Uh- no I don’t” You take a bite of leftover steak

“Good,” 

“Good?”

“I-I mean,” He stutters for a few seconds “It's good because I would feel guilty for keeping you here when you could be spending time with him as well. Any reason don’t you have?”

“I guess I’ve never met the right, all the guys at my school are right dickheads,” He cocks an eyebrow “What? I bet you were the same in school?”

“Oh god no I was a right nerd in high school. I would never even talk to a girl as pretty as you, let alone be mean to one,” He laughs and you join in

“I could never see you being a nerd with the whole Spiderman shebang and the whole dilf thing you got going on” 

“Dilf?”

“You don’t know what a dilf is?” 

“I know what a milf is, so I’m going to guess it has a similar meaning.

You carry on the small talk while you both finish the leftovers. He entertains you with stories about him taking down villains and you get him up to date with all the latest school drama. The rest of the chores are split up between the two of you. Peter’s job is to clean the drawing on the ceiling. A job that's impossible for you since you lack any superpowers. You end up washing the dishes. The conversation between the two of you has died down so you put in some AirPods and listen to music. While scrubbing some stubborn stain you feel a pair of rough hands latch on to you, it's Peter. He gently guides you to the side so he can access the cupboard under the sink. His touch sends an eclectic shock through your entire body, especially to your lower abdomen where you can already feel pressure starting to form. You take out one pod and look up at Peter

“Sorry, didn’t want to disturb you listening to your tunes” He laughs his hands still on your hips

“Oh no, it's fine. You just startled me,”

“Are you tense? It seems that I’m always scaring you. Something on your mind? I’m always here if you need to talk, angel,”

Your heart skips a head at the new nickname he has given you, you stutter out some appreciative nonsense before he lets go of your hips, and your body craves his touch. It was only a small dose but now your already addicted. He squats down and grabs some supplies before shooting a web at the ceiling and launching himself at it to continue cleaning.

Half an hour passes and the house is completely spotless. No evidence of Mayday’s wild escapades is left. Peters decides to head inside the panty to grab a sweet treat to congratulate him on a job well done. You follow him. The pressure inside your lower abdomen has gotten stronger over time instead of going away, so you are most likely blinded by lust when you decide to ask him

“Did you really mean it when you said I was pretty?” You question while leaning against the frame of the entrance to the pantry 

“Of course, I did, your gorgeous,” He smiles as a million impure thoughts appear in his mind “But you’re too young for me angel,” He sighs but before you could feel any sense of rejection his lips crash into yours. His hand attached itself to your hair at the crown of your head while the other one finds its way up your baby tee and being to fondle your breast. He pushes you against the wall, deepening the kiss but as quickly as he begins kissing you he ends it.

“Oh god angel, shit I’m so sorry,” He apologised as he let go of your hair “I don’t know what came over me. I-”

 He is about to remove his hand from your breast when you interrupt him 

“I liked it,” You smile 

This time, its Peter who is shocked

“I want you Peter,” You confess and it sets this man off like a bomb. His hands are back on your body exploring every crevice he can over your clothes. You return the favour as you begin fiddling with his belt, it takes a few seconds but you finally undo the belt and his zipper. Before you could pull his bulge out of his boxers he start humping himself against your hand

“Fuck angel you are so perfect!” He whispers in your ear 

He pulls frantically at your pair of denim shorts, desperately attempting to get them off. It takes a few tugs before he figures out he needed to undo the button but when he does your shorts are off in one quick movement. His middle and index fingers quickly find themselves inside your panties as Peters uses his digits to explore your folds.

“Fuck me, doll. How are you this wet, I have barely even touched you”

You manage to help his cock escape its confinement you were shocked at the size. How was he hiding this thing under his Spider-Man suit? Before you could ask him the question yourself, he's picked you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist as his fingers dig into your thighs. 

“Are you sure that you want this?”  He asks as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You nod.

“Words, darling.”

“Please, Peter!” You practically beg 

With that, he does a singular powerful thrust into you making sure that his entire shaft entire you on the first time. After a few seconds to make sure that you’ve adjusted to his size he begins to thrust at a fast pace. Your brain is scrambled all you can let out is a set of incoherent moans. 

He moves one of his arms to the small of your back to make sure you are steady as his lips meet yours again and you start a hungry kiss. His lips interlock yours perfectly, he's a pro at this which makes up for your lack of experience. 

Each of his thrusts is more powerful than the last. This man is fucking you like there's no tomorrow. He's needy too which makes you wonder about his current bedroom life. I mean if you were MJ you would never leave your martial bed. He lifts you up slightly which changes the game completely as every time his cock enters and leaves, he hits your g spot. You wrap one of your arms around his neck for extra support as you use the other to rub your clit.

 After a few minutes of thrusting, you are close to reaching your orgasm, Peter knows this. His spider senses are going crazy. He slows down his movements, making sure to drag out the amount of time his cock spends touching your g-spots with drives you over the edge. You cum almost instantly after he does this. Your walls clench around him getting him closer to reaching his high when the front door opens, It's MJ. Shit! 

Peter tightens his hold on you as he ploughs into you with a god-like speed trying to finally get his release. He moves one of his hands over your mouth attempting to quiet down your moans so that MJ won't hear. You listen closely as you hear her taking off her shoes. His movements are rougher. She enters the lounge and Peter finally cum, moving the hand which was located on the small of your back to the crown on your head as he sets you on the ground. He pets your hair gently as he gives you a quick peck before pulling his pants up and going to greet/distract his wife, giving you enough time to make yourself look presentable and to pretend to be preoccupied with something.

#peter b parker x reader #peter b parker #into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #atsv smut #atsv fic #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv spoilers #spiderverse spoilers #peter parker #mayday parker #peter x mj

[hikarry]

Crowley probably didn't keep any sort of direct contact with Warlock or the Dowling's after working as a tutor in the house, but I'm sure he still keeps an eye on Warlock from afar just to make sure he is doing alright because he is a sentimental lil snake that can't let go

Aziraphale didn't have that problem because he's not that great with kids anyway and he was just a gardener for most of the time. But Crowley was also the nanny. He raised the boy ever since he was a small kid and most definitely spent more time with him during Warlock's first 11 years than anyone else. Of course the softie would get attached

In the beginning, it had just been a job for the both of them. Another task to try and prevent the Apocalypse and save their way of living, but the line between pretending and being blurred quite fast. Pretending was easy. Hell, he's a demon. Pretending is part of the job to get temptations done. He is a pro with 6000 years of experience under his belt. But suddenly, he started caring. He started smiling when the tiny hands reached out to him. He relaxed when he swayed Warlock on his arms and sang him lullabies until the wee child fell asleep. He laughed when he carefully sat on the floor with his skirts and played with plastic dinosaurs to entertain the boy. He felt warm inside when the small child insisted on sitting on his lap when they were watching some stupid brain rotting cartoons on the telly. He felt slightly more alive when the kid held his hand and pulled him around enthusiastically on their trips to the observatory and Crowley had the chance to share random facts about the stars and the galaxy in general to two very interested ears. Yes, it was about saving the planet and swaying the child between being good and evil, but that wasn't just it, was it? Not when Warlock fell ill and Crowley stayed up all night to tend to him or when the kid had nightmares and he yelled for the nanny and not for his mother.

Crowley knew how to calm him down and how to make him laugh. He had a mental catalog of all his facial expressions and what they meant. He was right there before the child even started crying, picking him up, pulling him to his chest, and singing to him while caressing his hair because he knew that's what he needed. A little bit of attention he barely got from his parents. A little bit of love. Crowley, better than anyone else, knows what it is to have negligent parents, and he wouldn't let Warlock be tainted by that if he had anything to say about it. Alas, he saw a lot of himself in the kid.

Shit thing is, after the birthday party, he has no reason to see him anymore. He could keep visiting him as the Nanny or the Tutor but what when Warlock started questioning why he didn't age? Crowley wouldn't expose his demonic nature like he forcibly did with Adam

Cause yes I believe Adam has his number and they end up growing quite close after Armageddon. Not only cause Adam thinks Aziraphale and Crowley are hella cool but because Crowley delivered the boy, bloody hell! Sure he didn't look after him for 11 years like he did Warlock but he's still a softie! An "I had you in a basket in the back of my car when you were a new born. I delivered you to the nunnery where you would meet your parents" type of softie

He cares about Adam, but he low-key cares more about Warlock and its tragic that's exactly the boy he doesn't have a reason to be close to anymore

Bet every year on Warlock's birthday he goes check on him and sends a quick miracle his way before heading to Adam's birthday party

#i love adam and crowley but Warlock and crowley is so so special #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #anthony j crowley #warlock dowling #adam young