#even if this flops just know. i did this for my own peace. bc i have thought about it more than i know what to do with

[beom-pyu]

cologne ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags; lakeside cabin vacation funtime yay , summer , frenemies w beomgyu , annoyed reader , more friends to lovers bc why not! , some enemies to lovers? , jealous!beomgyu , nsfw , reader is in deep denial , silent pining , can't be a beom-pyu fic without fluff at the end!

warnings: smut (minors dni!) , slight frottage , thigh fucking , jealousy , subtle perv beomgyu? very subtle , beomgyu is a little possessive , cursing , needy beomgyu

( inspiration: cologne by beabadoobee!! literally has nothing to do with the song, but the vibe just reminded me of this fic so! :] )

a/n: just something cute and simple since it's almost summer!!! also, THANK YOU ALL FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!! im oh so grateful for all of you readers and your lovely comments as well as cute tags and reblogs <;3 you guys make my day!!!

wc: 4.1k+

12:01 a.m

you place the last pillow in between your bodies, humming in approval at your makeshift pillow border. you clap your hands once to get beomgyu's attention, the brunette looking up at you with exasperation from the other side of the small bed.

"okay, so the rules are very clear. don't cross this line, don't—"

"don't touch your stuff, and don't talk to you. i know. you've repeated yourself like twelve times," beomgyu finishes your interrupted speech, ending his sentence with a roll of his eyes.

your face contorts into disgust at the boy on the other side of the pillow wall, rolling your eyes back at him. "whatever. don't steal all of the blanket either." 

beomgyu's lip curls up in an equal amount of repulsion, running his annoying fingers through his annoying hair. you abruptly turn your back to him, laying down to pull the sheets up to your chin. 

it’s just your luck to be stuck with beomgyu for your friend group outing. you are now solidified in your belief that flipping a coin was the most idiotic way to pick roommates. 

how did you end up with the single bed and choi beomgyu? this has to be some type of spiritual karma. maybe you should've given up your seat on the bus for that old lady after all.

"don't tell me what to do," he mumbles as he reaches over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table next to him, settling into the covers. you have half the mind to shoot a snarky retort back at him, but you decide to be the bigger person (for once) and just go to sleep. 

this does not mean he wins though.

rule  #1 (don't cross the pillow border) seems to be the easiest rule to follow. you both sleep with your backs to each other, bodies fully separated by the plush cushions you’d stolen from the cabin’s couch. it may be the littlest bit uncomfortable, but you rather wake up with a stiff back than feel beomgyu's annoying foot touch your leg under the sheets.

a shiver racks down your spine simply at the thought.

rule #2 (don't touch your stuff) is a little harder for choi “annoying bitch” beomgyu, much to your dismay. when you get up at 3 a.m. to pee, you notice your charger plugged into beomgyu's annoying phone, your own phone sitting sadly next to it at a whopping 23%. when did he even…?

you inhale deeply to calm yourself.

now, you would’ve… should’ve chucked beomgyu's phone across the room and poured ice down the back of his shirt in retaliation to breaking your rule, but when you look down at his sleeping face, you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

beomgyu's annoyingly pink lips are slightly parted, his annoying hair all messy and flopped over his annoying forehead into his annoying eyes, and his annoying chest rises and falls deeply.

he looks peaceful. cute, even.

...

wait.

what. the. fuck?

you silently gag at yourself, shaking your head before pulling a face at the passing thought. you must really be sleep deprived if you think choi “assface” beomgyu looks cute right now. even after breaking rule #2 (don't touch your stuff)!

you shake your head, shuffling over to unplug his phone, pretending to hit him with the device before you toss it to the foot of the bed. you happily plug yours back in before carrying on with your mission to the bathroom.

by the time morning rolls around, rule #3 (don't talk to you) is beyond broken.

there is no reason, no reason at all, as to why you are awoken to beomgyu's shouts bouncing off the walls of the small cabin room. 

"SPIDER! Y/N, GET UP! THERE'S A FUCKING SPIDER!"

you groan as you try to blink your eyes open to assess the situation, but the blinding sunlight through the sheer curtains of the room burns your corneas, your eyes squeezing shut again.

“just kill it then!” you whine, burying your head back into your pillow in an attempt to tune him out and fall back asleep. you couldn’t have been any dumber though—in a single beat, the warm white blanket over your body is pulled off, the cool morning air attacking your skin immediately. “what’s your fucking problem?!”

“get your ass up and kill it for me!” beomgyu’s annoying voice fills your ears, and that was your final straw, grabbing the pillow from under your head to chuck it in the direction of the noise, successfully hearing a muffled ‘oof’ in the distance. you smile in victory.

“damn, what did i do?” 

instead of hearing beomgyu’s complaints of getting hit, you’re instead met with his loud cackles. you peek an eye open to see soobin standing in the doorway with a pout on his lips and a pillow in his hands. wrong target.

“sorry, soobin! i was trying to hit that loser,” you apologize, sitting up to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you point toward beomgyu’s annoying figure. you see soobin give you a small smile, shaking his head slightly, and beomgyu frowns at the name you called him. serves him right.

after a good 5 minutes of soobin attempting to chase down the spider and get rid of it with beomgyu on his tail recording the entire interaction, you manage to drift off to sleep again, happily spreading your entire body out in the starfish position now that you have the bed all to yourself.

another few hours pass before a hand is shaking you awake.

“5 more minutes,” you grumble, turning onto your side to curl up into the fetal position, blanket still long gone.

“c’mon, y/n! get dressed—we’re going to the lake!” kai announces enthusiastically, shaking you again until you finally open your eyes, feeling a little disappointed at the fact that the voice doesn’t belong to beomgyu.

…

only because you're in the mood to argue! that’s why!

that’s totally why…

3:36 p.m

"soobin!" you shout down the trail, waving a bit as said soobin stops in his tracks, turning around to wait for you to catch up. you jog a bit to meet him, a wide smile crossing his face.

"hey y/n. you coming from the lake?" you guys fall into stride together, nodding mindlessly at his words.

"mhm. i forgot a towel.” you motion to your drenched body, and soobin hums in confirmation.

“i’m heading back too. yeonjun’s rod broke,” soobin informs you, holding up the broken fishing rod with a small, sheepish smile. you laugh a bit at the poor sight, covering your smile behind your hand.

“how did that even happen?”

and from there ensued a step-by-step breakdown of how yeonjun managed to break a pro-grade fishing rod, trailing into a bunch of other crazy stories soobin has to tell as you trek to the cabin. once you get back, your stomach hurts from laughing so much. soobin has his arm slung over your shoulders as he continues to tell the most embarrassing story of his life and you just can’t help it.

"stop laughing at me! everyone saw naruto my underwear," soobin whines, but the smile on his face gives it all away.

“maybe stop wearing jeans that are 2 sizes too small? you’re not in one direction,” you tease as you walk into the cabin, slipping off your flip-flops by the door. you hear soobin half scoff and half laugh at your comment, his hand coming to your waist faintly as to move your body so he can slip past.

you see beomgyu sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, watching you guys with narrowed eyes as he bites into an apple slowly. you feel uncomfortable with his intense gaze on you, suddenly aware of the wet bikini on your body, wrapping your arms around yourself self-consciously.

“you try finding a good pair of jeans when you’re 6’1,” soobin retorts, taking his own shoes off before looking around for the fishing supplies. you puff out a chuckle, heading over to the kitchen, you brush past beomgyu’s figure to dig in the freezer, your back fully turned to him.

“you want a popsicle, soobin?” you call over your shoulder as you pick out a strawberry one for yourself and a cherry one for soobin, already knowing his answer.

“yes, please!” he responds in a silly voice and you smile a bit at the action, turning around to make your way back over to him. your brows furrow at the sudden disappearance of beomgyu’s presence but shrug it away, making your way over to your lanky friend.

“did you want me to walk you back to the lake?” soobin asks from where his head is ducked into a closet, sounds of clanking filling the space as he digs around. you think for a moment as you lick your popsicle.

“no, you go ahead. i’m gonna shower and then help taehyun set up the grill,” you respond, soobin letting out a little noise of triumph as he finally locates the fishing rods, standing back up straight. 

“thank you,” he speaks as you pass him the popsicle, patting your head affectionately. “i’ll see you later!”

“see you!” 

and then he’s swiftly out the door, leaving you alone in the front room of the cabin. you’re reminded of your drenched body when you look down to see the puddle you’ve trailed across the hardwood floor, mentally promising to clean it up before you make your way back to your shared room.

you knock on the door before entering, just in case someone just so happens to be inside changing or something. when you receive no response, you push the door open to see beomgyu on the bed, headphones covering his ears. they don’t seem to be doing the best job though, considering the fact that you can still hear the music blasting through the speakers.

the eardrum damage must explain why he ignored your rules last night. you accidentally let out a cackle at your own inside joke, somehow gaining the attention of beomgyu who looks up at you with startled eyes. he removes his headphones to settle around his neck before the infamous lip curl appears on his face.

"you fucking scared me. why were you creeping like that?" beomgyu shoots towards you, venom in his voice. it doesn’t phase you one bit though, pursing your lips as you shrug your shoulders, licking your slowly melting popsicle as you head over to your bag on the opposite side of the bed.

"i knocked but you didn't hear cause of your loud ass music. not my fault."

you can feel beomgyu's eye roll from behind your head, but instead of receiving a retort back, he remains silent. it’s odd. choi “always has something to say” beomgyu doesn’t have a comeback ready for you? you grab your towel and stand back up to face him, cocking your head. he’s acting weird.

"why are you acting weird?" 

very classy.

beomgyu looks up from his phone screen, squinting his eyes at you. his lips are pressed together tightly, his hair messy, and in his eyes like it had been that night, your mind flashing back to his sleeping appearance.

gross. totally not cute. he’s choi beomgyu—so he’s automatically gross. he has to be.

"i'm not..." beomgyu drags out as if he’s unsure of his own statement. "i'm just tired because someone decided to make us sleep in the worst position known to man."

you give him a small glare before focusing your attention back down on your bag to grab your body wash and loofah. a beat passes as he continues.

"you seem to be having fun with soobin though."

your head lifts back up, giving him an inquisitive stare. 

“what? you can’t stand seeing me actually happy and not trying to rip my hair out like when i’m around you?” you laugh in amusement, flipping your towel over your shoulder to reduce the clutter in your hands. you could’ve missed it—you almost missed it—the way beomgyu’s eyes slightly dull at your words, nibbling on his bottom lip in thought. you try not to think of it though, walking to leave the room.

“anyways, we’re grilling at the lake in like 2 hours so don’t try to say i didn’t tell you!” and that was that as you exit, an uneasy swirling within your gut.

2:23 a.m

you sit on the edge of the bed as you plug in your phone, making sure its in the outlet on your side of the bed this time to avoid any more rule-breaking. you adjust your tank top as you stand to retrieve some more pillows. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re struggling to ignore the way beomgyu has been acting around you all day. 

little touches at the lake, playfully wiping your mouth during dinner, sharing a blanket with you as you all sat around the campfire, his head on your shoulder. maybe he really was just tired today. maybe he was so out of it that he didn’t realize how out of the norm he’s been acting.

it’s not like you hate choi “mr. annoying” beomgyu. that isn’t the case at all! you’d even go as far as to consider him your… friend. he just has a knack for pushing all your wrong buttons, evoking such guttural annoyance out of your body in a way that no one else can. it’s always been that way since the day you first met in high school.

but he’s never been like this, you think as you grab the pillows off of the floor to rebuild your pillow wall. his voice stops your movement, though, your head whipping around to see a freshly showered beomgyu—his hair is all wet and wavy, his skin smooth and golden from the summer sun. the sweatpants he’s wearing hang low on his hips, revealing the waistband of his underwear.

you swallow a bit as your eyes widen at his figure. 

only because you’re not used to seeing him in such a minuscule amount of clothes!

yeah… that’s why.

“can we go without the stupid border? my back still fucking hurts from last night,” beomgyu complains as he makes his way over to the bed, looking a little too good in the warm lighting of the bedside table’s lamp, an orange hue casting over his skin. 

you’re frozen as you watch the way his muscles move as he climbs into the bed, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. his eyes meet yours, a brow raised in question. you blink, snapping yourself out of whatever trance you were in, clearing your throat as you drop the pillows back onto the ground.

“yea, whatever. just—don’t touch me with your gross feet,” you mumble, slipping into the bed yourself. beomgyu laughs a bit at your words, reaching over to turn off the lamp. 

“just my feet, huh? so you wouldn’t care if it were my hands?” he asks, obviously joking—but you feel your stomach swoop slightly at the thought.

no! you’re just tired. it’s been a long day.

“don’t touch me at all, loser. and don’t talk to me either! starting now.” you turn your back to him, a perfect mirror of the night before as you pull the blanket up and over your body. the room is silent other than the slight creaking of the wooden bedframe as beomgyu gets comfortable. 

as much as you want to ignore his presence completely, you simply can’t. he’s too close to your body, so close that you can feel his steady breaths on your shoulder, his body heat radiating onto your exposed skin. you try to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to just sleep, but he scoots closer. and closer. and closer—until his chest is fully pressed against your back, a hand coming to rest on your hip.

your heart pounds in your ears as you take in his touch. you should be telling him to get off of you, or push him onto the floor for breaking your rule! but his hand is heavy and hot on your hip, his fingers playing with the hem of your tank top for a second before they dip underneath, splaying his hand out onto your tummy. his touch is hot and searing. your stomach flips at the sensation.

you can feel his dick chub up against your sleeping pants, his hips slowly rutting up against you. you feel heat rush to your core at the simple action, your heart stuttering a bit.

“beomgyu, what are you doing?” you whisper, voice shaky and unstable as you feel him roll his hips onto your ass. 

“please, let me break your rules just this once,” he whispers back, deep voice filling your ears, clouding up your mind. his voice is breathy and low, holding you back against him. “i need—fuck, please, i just—”

his words come out sparse as he rolls his hips against yours again. your mouth is dry, unsure if this is even real. the beomgyu you know wouldn’t even dare to be closer than 2 feet near you, and now here he is, begging in your ear.

“what do you need, beomgyu?” you mumble back, biting your lip as he ruts against you a little faster, a small broken moan leaving his lips at the friction. you’re wet—you can feel yourself dripping into your panties as his fingers press into your skin. 

“you, y/n. i need y—been wanting you all day,” he whines into your ear, his nose nudging against your shoulder. it’s all too intimate, too intense—and you hate the fact that you like the way his breath feels on the back of your neck. “can i fuck your thighs, please? please, i won’t put it in—just your thighs, please.”

you inhale, wanting to weigh out the pros and cons—but you want him just as badly. your head is nodding before you can even think and beomgyu’s lips press against your shoulder, mumbling thank yous as his hands scramble to pull down your pants and underwear in one swift motion, before pulling his dick out. you feel it twitch on your lower back and you press against him, enjoying the way his breathing picks up a little too much.

you lift your leg a bit so he can slide his heavy dick in between your thighs, his shaft nudged up against your wet pussy. you sigh at the weight, beomgyu’s hand pressing flat against your stomach to hold you in place.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whimpers out as he begins thrusting quickly, going dumb at the way your cunt drips onto his length, easing the glide. you tilt your head back a bit and beomgyu’s immediately kissing up the expanse of your neck, nipping at your skin, moaning in your ear. it’s so lewd and dirty and your hand comes down to rub at your clit, moaning quietly at the relief.

beomgyu notices your movement, brushing your hand away to do the work for you, his soft fingers rubbing delicious circles on your bud as his thrusts quicken, your thighs becoming wet with a mixture of your own slick and his precome. you can’t help the quiet moans falling out of your mouth at the feeling, his fingers moving just right over your sensitive clit, the drag of his veiny dick applying the perfect amount of pressure against your entrance. 

“‘m better than soobin. so much better than him. only i can make you feel like this,” he mumbles into your skin, voice high and whiny as he thrusts against you, pressing down on your clit in a way that makes your gut tighten. you can barely process his words—something about soobin?—but you’re too lost in beomgyu’s touch, his hips stuttering against your gushing pussy.

you’re unable to control your noises as your hand grabs onto his wrist, feeling your orgasm rushing upon you quickly. beomgyu’s dick is twitching against your folds and the combination of his breathy moans and stimulation on your swollen bud is too much. your body tenses up as you cum, pleasure washing over you in waves as you whimper in beomgyu’s arms.

“that’s it, baby. cum on my cock—fuck, just like that,” beomgyu talks you through your orgasm, fingers only slowing on your clit as he cums himself. you can feel the stripes of burning cum shoot onto your thighs, his thrusts faltering as he whines, mouth hot against your skin. you lay there catching your breath, head spinning as you gradually come back to reality, beomgyu’s hand still pressed against your rising and falling stomach.

his forehead rests on your shoulder, breathing heavily for a bit before you feel delicate kisses on your skin, trailing up your neck. you lean into his touch, letting those butterflies swarm your stomach again at the little action. 

you don’t want to speak first—you don’t know what to say. after all these years of fighting with beomgyu over the pettiest things, all the tension has led up to this point. you aren’t sure how to feel… but you think you kind of like it.

and maybe you kind of like choi “annoying loser” beomgyu as well.

you feel beomgyu slide out from in between your legs, moving over to the other side of the bed in silence. you feel a little disappointed at the disappearance of his touch.

“i’m gonna go get a towel, okay?” beomgyu speaks softly as he moves to stand, pulling his pants back up. his face is flushed and the tips of his ears are bright red, a shy smile on his face. 

“okay,” you respond quietly with a small smile of your own, acknowledging the way your stomach flips at the sight of him. what the hell are you going to do now?

it doesn’t take long for beomgyu to return with a wet rag, climbing over the sheets to clean you up. his brows are furrowed as he focuses on his task, and you cover your face in embarrassment at the closeness of it all—with his body in between your legs, gently wiping up the mess he made. you pull your hands away as his movements stop, helping you get dressed again. 

his gaze on you is heavy and you try not to meet his eyes, face hot and flustered as the entire situation fully dawns on you. he’s having none of it though, hovering over your body to turn your head so your gaze locks onto his eyes, his blown-out pupils a little too sparkly, making your heart flutter a little too much.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly—gently as if his voice was only made for you to hear. you nod in response. you want to shrink under his inquisitive stare, but there’s nowhere to run as you’re fully caged in by his body. 

you see the way his eyes flutter down to your lips for a quick second before they’re glued onto your eyes again. “please don’t tell me you regret that because i don’t. not at all.”

he sounds desperate, pitiful almost, and you reach up to brush the strands of hair out of his face with a small smile. because you don’t regret it either.

“remember that no talking to me rule?” you start, seeing the way beomgyu’s lips pout in disappointment, unsure of where you’re going with this. “how about you kiss me instead?”

beomgyu doesn’t give you a second to breathe before his lips crash onto yours roughly, as if he’s been waiting for this moment for years.

and oh fuck... maybe he has.

you sigh into the kiss, reaching to the back of his neck to bring him closer to you, his body lowering onto yours. his lips are incredibly soft, his weight comforting on top of your body. his hand comes to hold your cheek gently, thumb swiping over your skin. it’s everything and more—it’s something you didn’t even know you had been waiting for.

when he pulls away from you, it’s slow and gentle. beomgyu leans down to press a few more quick kisses onto your lips, a tiny smile settling onto his face as he rolls over to the other side of the bed, pulling you into his arms. you melt into his embrace, resting your head against his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso.

“i swear to god though, gyu. your feet better not touch me,” you mumble into his chest, feeling his body rumble with laughter.

“rules are made to be broken, baby,” beomgyu speaks before his still-very-annoying foot touches yours under the sheets. you squeal in shock at his cold skin, but laughter quickly overtakes any annoyance that was bound to wind up in you.

you’ll let it slide. just this once.

reblogs are highly cherished!

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

#txt #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt smut #txt scenarios #beomgyu #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu smut #beomgyu scenaries #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #txt x reader #txt x y/n #beom-pyu

[daimyosprincess]

SOME REX AND RELAXATION

—PAIRING: Rebels!Captain Rex x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

—WORD COUNT: 3.3k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, Rebels!Rex, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), Dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink (bc I can’t help myself), nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

Please let me know if I missed anything! Mando'a translations are at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I miss Rex so this is getting posted today!!! After a rough week a bit ago, I started writing this as a comfort fic to make myself feel better and boy howdy, by the the end of it I was feeling way better 😈 Also: Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor deserve to live in comfy cottages in pastoral peace for the rest of their beautiful days. And I've decided that the clones age normally after the age of 25 so they have nice long lives ahead of them :)

This is my first ever Rex fic and I want to give a big shout out to my resident Rexpert @rexxdjarin for betaing this fic, I hope I did our captain justice 💙 Also thank you to @cloned-eyes for letting me use their amazing Rex art in my header!! That fresh out the shower Rex was some delicious inspo for this fic 🫠

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

The only thing worse than the day you’ve had was this week as a whole. Nothing had gone right with the New Republic school going up in town, and somehow the solution to several of those problems was what you’d said a week ago… but only when that bureaucratic sop from Coruscant said it. Not to mention the pipes burst in your apartment, you slipped down some stairs in front of a street full of people (with the worst bruise of your entire life to prove it), and to top it all off, you dropped your overpriced caf all over your shoes this morning.

Not a great week.

At this point, you’re only one minor inconvenience away from snapping—the fact that it’s the end of the work week is the only thing keeping you together. And, of course, your perfect, wonderful captain of a boyfriend, Rex. You’ve been staying at his farmhouse while repairs are made to the water lines that caused the damage at your place. 

He and his brothers, Gregor and Wolffe, had come to your quiet little agricultural planet a couple years ago and fixed up a few of the old houses at the edge town to live in. They mostly keep to themselves, but are always willing to lend a helping hand when it’s needed, whether it’s making repairs after the annual monsoon, donating fresh produce for school meals, or digging out flooded irrigation ditches. They are good men and the town accepts them as part of their own, even if Wolffe is a little grumpy and Gregor turns all the local women into giggling messes when he’s around.

The three of them are mending a fence on the far side of the property when you arrive at the farmstead. Usually you would have taken your speeder over for a chat, but you don’t think you have it in you after today. All you want to do is take off your bra and flop face-down on Rex’s couch to wait for the world to stop sucking—which is exactly how Rex finds you when he comes inside a few minutes later. 

“Another great day then, mesh’la?” he teases with the mirth of a man who already knows his question’s answer. His work boots make a thud on the stone tiles as he pulls them off.

Without looking up, you grunt a “no” into the cushions and shake your head.

“Do you want to come shower with me or do you need some alone time?”

“Alone time,” your muffled voice answers, “then Rex time. Lots and lots of Rex time.”

His warm chuckle and beard graze delightfully over the back of your neck as he bends to press a kiss to your hair. “Alright then, pretty girl. Just relax and I’ll be back to give you all the time in the world, okay?” You give him another muffled affirmative and he squeezes your calf affectionately before heading to the ‘fresher. 

Maker, he’s good to you. 

A year ago you would have never thought you’d find yourself in a long-term relationship with an ex-clone trooper who’s old enough to be your father, or that you would be calling said ex-clone trooper Daddy while he makes you see stars. The Force works in mysterious ways, you suppose… not that you’re complaining. Far from it. 

Your relationship with Rex might have come as a surprise but you’ve never been happier: things with him are as close to perfect as they can get. He cares for you, makes you feel so safe and loved and warm that you could melt into a puddle at his feet, and you adore him. He’s kind, strong, and compassionate, a good leader through and through. The galaxy has never made a finer man, and not to mention, a finer lover.

Eventually, you muster the strength to roll yourself off the couch and ditch your work clothes for your much more comfortable loungewear, deciding to forgo panties as a nice little surprise for your boyfriend. Snuggling under his covers that smell of him, you flip onto your stomach to scroll through your datapad. Efficient as always, Rex doesn’t make you wait long, the ‘fresher door sliding open a few minutes later. The comforting, woody smell of his soap fills your nose as you take in his broad frame glistening from his shower. 

Kark, he looks good. All broad shoulders and bronze skin, thick and perfect. How has no one made a statue of this man?

Noticing your interested stare, he winks as he hangs his towel on its hook. “Feeling better, mesh’la?”

You hum your delight and click off your tablet to give him your full attention. “Yeah, could be better, though,” you add with a sneaky smile.

“Oh yeah? How?” Flicking off the ‘fresher light, he starts towards you. The mischievous glint in your boyfriend’s eye is more than enough to get your blood pumping, especially combined with his shirtless upper half. 

You flip up the covers next to you, grinning up at him. “Well for starters, you could get in the bed with me, handsome.” His brown eyes sparkle when he returns the expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. “And then you can hold me and make me forget all about this entire kriffing week.” 

Your captain is quite good at making you forget things, whether it be a bad day or your own name.

Obliging as always, Rex slides in behind you and loops an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his bare chest. Your body reacts immediately to his touch, the tension in your muscles slacking. He nuzzles into your neck, making you giggle from the way his beard tickles the sensitive skin there, and starts kissing every bit of you his lips can reach. When you try to squirm away from him and his beard, squealing and panting from your laughter, he just locks his big arms around you and keeps going.

“Eeee! Rex! S-stop, you’re tickling me-you’re tickling me!”

In between smacking kisses, he chuckles into your ear. “I thought you said you want me to make you forget about this week, mesh’la.” His hold loosens enough for you to wriggle around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and admiring how handsome he is up close.

You brush your lips over his, gently running your nails down the back of his neck and savoring the way he shivers at your soft touches; knowing you have such an effect on him makes your skin hot. “Well Captain,” you drawl with syrupy sweetness, “I was thinking something more along the lines of… this.” You roll your hips against his, sighing at the pleasant sensation. 

Rex groans his rumbling approval and drops his large hands to your ass to grind you harder against his center. “Anything you want, baby, just tell me and it’s yours.”

You know what you want: to be taken care of after this shit-show of a week, to be kissed and loved and cherished like only he can, doted on and held safe in his arms. You want to completely let go and surrender—no more thoughts, no more worries, just him. Just Rex. Your perfect, perfect Rex. 

Capturing his lips in an indulgent kiss, you whine your desire into his mouth when you break for air, not caring how needy you sound. 

He shushes you with gentle sounds, stroking over your hair. “Of course, sweetheart,” he coos in a sinfully sweet voice, cradling your face between his palms, “you’ve had a hard week… yeah, I know, I know. You need Daddy to make it all better, don’t you?” He pulls you crushingly tight against the strong line of his body, just how he knows you like, holding all your pieces together so you don’t have to.

“Please,” you gasp, burrowing deeper into him, “Don’t wanna… don’t wanna be anymore. Just wanna be yours.” The ache of existence in your chest is already beginning to melt underneath his weight, replaced by the tender warmth of his devoted attention. The edges of your mind go liquid as you let him pour you into his mold.

“Daddy’s going to take care of you, all you have to do is listen and let him make you feel good, okay, babygirl?” You bob your head in a nod, your eyes starry and wide as you await his next instruction. Rubbing the back of your neck, Rex places an affectionate kiss on your forehead for your obedience. “Good girl. Now turn over, face out and back to me… lift your arms… yeah, just like that,” he murmurs as he slides your top off, planting wet kisses on the new skin exposed to him.

His battle-worn hands skim up the swell of your tummy to take in breasts. You’re already buzzing in eager anticipation. You push into his touch, pressing your chest out in an offer of more, and you’re to be quickly rewarded with a low groan and his fingers rolling your sensitive nipples deliciously slow. Wanting heat rises through you like a flame catching to dry tender while little mewls of pleasure fall from your lips. 

“So beautiful, so warm, my sweet cyar’ika,” he purrs between more lush kisses, “I know this makes you feel good… I’m going to give those perfect tits the attention they deserve.” He gives your peaked tips a gentle pinch and you moan, the electric sensation shooting straight to swollen clit. Smiling at your vocal pleasure, Rex begins an erotic rhythm that has you bucking your hips as his fingers alternate between pinching and rolling.

“Ooohhh, y-you feel so… you feel s-so good,” you whine, writhing against his ministrations. With the way his breathing has gone hot and ragged in your ear, you swear it could be enough to make you come untouched. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, just feel the pleasure… just concentrate on how good you feel, nothing else,” he instructs, his deep voice like golden honey to your ears. “Daddy’s got you now, he’s gonna take care of everything. He doesn’t like seeing his baby so stressed and unhappy.” Rex latches onto your pulse point, sucking your heated flesh into his mouth and sending waves of pleasure throbbing through your nerves.

“Nev-never unhappy with you,” you pant, reaching your hand back to push him deeper into your neck. Rex is your shining sun who banishes all of life’s many darknesses, and the match which lights the fire of your loins. He’s everything to you, and right now, he’s all you can feel and see and smell. It’s utterly divine. 

“Mmm, that makes me so happy to hear, you know why? Making you happy, taking care of my beautiful babygirl… it makes me happy. Daddy loves being there for his cyar’ika and he’d do anything to put a smile on her face, you know that?” Cupping your jaw, he tilts your head back to steal the little gasps of delight dripping sugary-thick from your lips. As hot and heavy as things have become, Rex doesn’t rush. He takes his time licking into your mouth and nibbling on your slicked bottom lip, all the while kneading and rolling your breasts, ever the man to keep his word.

Molten heat rushes through your veins as his words pour over your skin, spurring you onto new heights under his generous hands—the deep swell of his voice loosens the taunt aggravation of the week still stowed in your muscles. You’re like lavish wax under his care, worked pliable by him then molded into a work of weightless art, your very existence something to be admired.

His calloused fingertips sweep over the plushness of your lower belly, the shimmering heat of your arousal converging at his touch. When he dips below the fabric of your waistband, he sucks in a breath. “No panties, pretty girl? Now you’re the one spoiling me,” he groans, his cock twitching against the cage of your back. 

You let out a delighted, breathy giggle at his body’s reaction to the discovery. “I thought you might like that,” you breathe out fond and pleased, “I did it just for you.” 

He brushes lower, his middle finger tracing over the damp seam of your folds and a whimper sneaks through your smile at the feathery sensation. It’s these light, almost subatomic touches that make you come loose at the seams—and he knows it. Inside the year that you’ve been together, Rex has learned your body intimately, its history and inner workings revealed in the hours you spent in his arms.

“I love to hear your sweet little laugh, and I love to know that you’re smiling,” he murmurs affectionately, cupping your slick mound, “I’m so proud of you for letting me take some of the weight off you after this difficult week.” He takes a moment to plant kisses in the soft crook of your neck and up to your ear before continuing. “Now, just lie back, let me make you feel all warm and sweet. I want to watch you melt for me… melt and leave me with all your sweet honey to lick up.”

Each word shaped by his rich rasp further unmoors you from your senses. That sensual tingling feeling of submission bubbles pleasantly across your mind, your bones softening to downey cotton as you lose yourself to the sound of Rex’s voice. You can’t tell where the vibration of your own sounds of pleasure end and his begin, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, so, so safe and happy here in the glowing space between his arms. If only you could have him inside, too…

“C-can I have more, please? Want more of you, baby,” you pant, grinding into his palm between your thighs.

“Of course, mesh’la, you can have whatever you like. Anything and everything, all you have to do is ask.” Pressing into your lower lips, he spreads you apart. Your teeth immediately catch your lip when his trigger finger begins languidly sliding over your buzzing clit; the delicious friction fans the flames of your desire, heating you from the inside out. A rumble of satisfaction rolls up his chest when your head falls back against his shoulder with a contented sigh. 

Rex takes advantage of the new access you allowed him, dragging his hot lips over your collarbone to nip and suck little marks onto your heated skin. “Mmm, I love touching you, I love feeling you,” he hums, thick and heady, “I want you to feel how much I care about you…” He scrapes his teeth up your tender throat to capture your mouth with his own.

Stars-Maker-kriff does he kiss like a god. A king amongst men, really, who- “Oh!”

Your eyes fly open as your captain easily flips you under him like a ragdoll, pulling your pants down and flinging them over his shoulder in one fluid motion that has you gushing.

“That’s better,” he mutters between hot mouthed-kisses down your sternum and over your tummy. The way his beard scrapes over your skin has chillbumps flowering all over. “It fills me up with so much happiness when I get to love on my sweet cyar’ika and take care of her. Makes everything else go away for me, too, sweetheart. I get to just focus on you.” 

His large hands skate down your ribs then down the curve of your hips to massage the fullness of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting to worship this perfect pussy, pull all those pretty sounds out of you while you come over and over… just like you deserve.”

You’re nothing more than a warm soup of sparkling sensation, swirling around the ache building in your core. Rex isn’t usually one to tease you, but it feels like he’s taking an eternity to make it between your-

“Ohhhh, Reeeex!”

Wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, he literally lifts you up to his mouth, moaning like a man tasting some paradisic fruit after months in the desert. “Fuck, babygirl, your little pussy… I could feel hot and needy it was when you were rubbing up against me, how wet and messy you were… but this? Kark. I’m so lucky to be able to kiss all over this beautiful cunt. So lucky to have this pussy, this ass,” he gives an appreciative squeeze to your behind, “and this sweet little girl all to myself.”

The air is suctioned from your lungs by the gravity of his pleasure; it’s unrelenting and all-consuming, it’s all you can comprehend. Squeezing your eyes shut in focus, you manage a reply. “S-so l-lucky to have you, Rex. You’re s-so good to me… love you… love you so much.” You cut off with a shuddering cry when he sucks your bud between his lips, not caring that you’re swiftly losing a battle you don’t want to win.

“I love you so much, my mesh’la,” he pants into your heat. “My sweet, precious girl, I’m going to give you my fingers, okay? Gonna give you just what you need so you can come all over my face.” He slips two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking and releasing them with pop before easing into your soaked entrance. The twin sounds of your satisfaction fill the room, the stout stretch of his fingers making you moan while the clutch of your cunt has your captain grunting praises against your clit. 

“Kark, you’re so tight and wet, so perfect… clenching around me,” he crooks his fingers as much as he can in the restrictive walls, “Don’t hold back, beautiful, let me hear you. Let me hear how good you feel.”

His words scorch your nerves to ash with a molten magma of pleasure that erupts from your core. Your spine bows up, making Rex find the soul-shattering spot that makes you scream in ecstasy. The world around you snaps into sharp focus, bright and loud before exploding in a shower of stars and lambent energy. You’re unmade, unwound down to your most basal form of hot-blooded, carnal need where time and worldly matters no longer reign in your existence. Primal satisfaction and the thrill of euphoria rule you instead for several effervescent moments.

When the flood of electricity flowing from every cell and synapse begins to ebb to jolting aftershocks, the sweet praise of your lover floats over you in warm waves. “So beautiful like this… keep going mesh’la, take what you need… I love you so much… love making you feel good, love feeling your perfect pussy on my fingers…”

Reverent kisses are bestowed like offerings to the divinity of your pleasure as you materialize back into reality one pounding heartbeat at a time. Joy radiates from every molecule in your body, the stress of the mortal coil dissolved and washed far away, leaving you light, free, and happy. You want nothing more than to revel in this glorious sensation with the love of your life, and you call out to your captain with a breezy sigh, “Rex…”

“Cyare…”

“Want you close, my love, want you to hold me.”

You barely register his movement in your hazy after-glow, but soon your chest is pressed against a familiar wall of muscle and there’s a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Snuggling into his open warmth, you nuzzle into his neck and inhale Rex’s timber-fresh scent. 

Safe… happy… love. Him. Forever. 

Your hazy thoughts drift across the clear sky of your mind, eventually coalescing into a nebulous sentiment your lips can form around. “Rex… love you so much… thank you, baby.”

Curling around you tighter, Rex’s beard brushes over your shoulder as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Anything for you, my sweet, perfect girl,” he smiles into your hair, “You are everything to me, the light of an old soldier’s life. I will always take care of you, my mesh’la, no matter what.”

And with the certainty only love can bring, you know him to be true.   

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

cyare - beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

mesh'la - beautiful

#once again i will think i am clever with these titles lmao #zwei writes #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex x you #captain rex fanfic #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex smut #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #some rex and relaxation fic

[holding-monsters-hands]

You got medic w autistic reader. Scout with autistic reader. Now, engineer w autistic reader 🤭🤭🤭

LMFAO so far we got medic, scout, and sniper and now engineer!

I really wanna do the whole team, esp demo bc he’s so underrated and I am madly in love with him 🫶🏻

Engineer with an autistic s/o

Oh my stars he just adores you, he could listen to you talk all day.

even if you bounce from topic to topic in a ay that would make no sense to others, he seems to understand you as if it’s a language he’s been speaking his whole life.

I heavily believe this man knows how to cook, and he’d happily make your safe foods as many times as you’d like, he never forces you to try anything you’re not comfortable with- Never holding any judgement towards you either!

He likes to sit outside with you on nice warm days and listen to the radio while you two rock back and forth calmly on a hammock, it’s nice.. peaceful, nothing to get you overstimulated.

Or if you prefer being inside, you two can snuggle up on the couch and he’d be happy to read some books to you!

Either way he tries to do date nights as much as he can with you, with him constantly being so caught up in his work- he wants to show how much he loves and appreciates you with some quality time! even if that includes you two doing your own separate thing while in the same room, he’s just happy to share the same air as you.

speaking of work, he’s become quite the master of creating these little fun sensory toys for you to use! perfect for stimulating your brain, and keeping you busy so you don’t feel as lonely when he has to focus on work.

But it’s always worth it when he can come home from a long day on the battlefield and flop into bed, holding you in his arms while you ramble on about what you did that day. ♡

#tf2 engineer #tf2 engie x reader #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2

[adhd-merlin]

my sillygoofyquirkyfunny headcanon:

arthur noticed the tree branches, the way they fell perfectly in time onto unsuspecting victims to save him from a bloody end; he noticed the fallen enemies, all the people who ever wanted him dead flopping to the ground without cause; noticed merlin's disappearances, how he would be away at the tavern for a week and return, just coincidentally, immediately after the beast terrorizing the villagers and famers made its own disappearing act.

he noticed, most importantly, the way merlin was always there every time arthur was mysteriously spared from death. he noticed, but never did he once ponder whether he had magic. merlin, who had settled next to him in front of a sputtering fire and told him that he would be the greatest king camelot had ever known; who shed tears over dead unicorns and dragonlords and children and knights and friends, all who lived lives that could have meant nothing or everything, but it didn't matter, because he cared for them anyways; who stood up for servants and looked after villagers and put himself in danger, over and over again, in the name of justice and peace and compassion.

merlin couldn't possibly have magic, in arthur's mind, because he was too good to ever be something so evil.

merlin's downfall, however, lay in something both heartbreakingly similar and different: he believed that arthur was too good to ever hurt him for possessing magic, too good to ever commit a crime so heinous, too good to ever be like his father and treat merlin the same way uther did every sorcerer he chained against dungeon walls.

in another universe, in an alternate timeline, merlin uses his magic in front of arthur. it doesn't matter whether he is protecting his father, or arthur himself, or a knight, or even a stranger—all that matters is that arthur knows, now.

and arthur would shake as he did it, as he slid his sword from its sheath, as he lifted the glinting metal to a trembling throat, as the blood splattered his blade and his hands and his tunic and his boots. arthur would shake forevermore, long after the hours he spends scraping the blood from his skin tick slowly by, long after he wrenches awake from the dreams playing merlin's bloody murder on repeat while he sobs in his sleep, long after the moment he starts looking at his hands and seeing the perfect outline of merlin's blood staining them a vengeful scarlet.

he shakes because of his faith—the same thing that caused merlin's death.

in the end, it was their requited faith in one another that was their downfall.

(anyways, fav headcanon. kind of. is this a headcanon, technically? idk, its kind of an alternate-universe-headcanon, with some poetic twists bc its half-past midnight and i felt ✨spicy✨ hope you enjoyed!)

"mum you need to come pick me up right now immediately"

#asks #personally I don't believe arthur could ever kill merlin for having magic #but that's a thought #much silly. very goofy. thanks

[xxxavo]

Sin getting upset bc he see’s Kouen flirting with his s/o (I mean they both already don’t like each other).So sins getting all alpha dog and is trying to get him to bck off

Requested by: anonymous

Warnings: A hint of verbal NSFW towards the end? (better known as...LIMEy) Not swear words but a few rude words? Idk

Suddenly getting back into Magi so might be a few imagines being thrown around here and there, depends on how long this lasts!! Feeling a NSFW scenario manifesting itself into my drafts after writing this, I won't lie, but no actual NSFW content today my little imuchakk's! Hope you enjoy!

Sinbad had always liked banquets, weather they be ones held in the kingdom of Sindria, or at his biggest rivals, the Kou empire. There was something exciting about the prospect of consuming alcohol in foreign lands after an important political meeting that made Sinbad feel on top of the world. It was rare for things in Sinbad’s life not to go his way, or to not end up leading towards something better then what he had lost. For this reason, King Sinbad was to an extent, a go-with-the-flow kind of man. Especially with loyal followers such as his generals and his beloved wife!

His beloved was of course very loyal, incredibly so...but, there were people who did not care for that loyalty of hers. This included a certain Kou empire red head who went by the name of Kouen.

“No need to look so sour, Sin.” Ja’far commented beside him, though he was enjoying the fact his King was abandoning his poor drinking habits to instead stay sober and focused, even if he was focusing on his wife and Kouen Ren flirting. “You told her to be pleasant and friendly towards Kouen to gain his favour. I don’t understand why you’re so jealous.” That was enough to make Sinbads eyes flicker from the generous laughter of his wife to the smug face of his right hand man.

“Me!? Jealous!?”

“Hmm.” Masrur agreed from the other side of Sinbad. The King’s neck practically snapped to the fanalis.

“Why would I, of all people, be jealous?”

“Because you’re wife is a smart, sophisticated lady who could do a lot better than a man who drinks sake and shamelessly prances around woman as if he was a young teen in his glory years.” Golden eyes met red ones in a baffled expression of offense.

“That’s a low blow, Ja’far.”

“Hmm.” Again, Masrur voiced his opinion rather humbly. Unlike the other two, Masrur had not taken his eyes away from the Queen, curious to see how her little game would play out; He loved how cunning she was.

The Queen, unlike Sinbad, was sensible. When he was busy hiding from Ja’far she was busy doing the work for him and cleaning up all his messes. Masrur liked how through thick and thin she stayed by Sinbad’s side whilst being the role model his country needed. She may as well have been a general. However, that didn’t mean she didn’t find herself sick of him sometimes.

Unfortunately old habits died hard. Sinbad was an infamous lady killer, flirting and charming any woman he deemed beautiful. No longer did he take it any further but Masrur could always see it in the Queen’s eyes whenever she got upset or jealous with his ministrations. As much as she tried to hide it, Masrur was a man who saw much, yet said very little.

The fanalis saw the way the cogs in her head turned the moment Sinbad had told her to “Gain Kouen’s favour in any way you can! I’m sure he’ll be much more linient with me if he enjoys the company of my other half” and the way she made sure her corset was on tighter and her breasts were pushed up higher only confirmed his supicions. Sinbad was about to get a very bitter taste of his own flirtatious medicine.

The Queen was, despite being middle aged, very beautiful. If she wasn’t married to King Sinbad, Masrur was certain many men would be throwing themselves at her feet. Kouen would possibly be one of those.

The next thing Masrur knew a grumpy Sinbad was pulling on his cheek, his gaze in the same direction as his. “What is it Masrur? What are they saying!? Surely you will stick by your King! Unlike this traitor—“

“Tsk.”

“Please Masrur. My wife could be in danger.” Sinbad dramatized. Masrur practically had to stop himself from commenting on how pathetic the King looked. “I need those fanalis ears of yours...”

“Fine.”

“Did you know, you’re my favourite?”

“I swear to Solomon Sinbad if you—“

Drowning out the advisor and the King, Masrur honed his attention on the Queen and Kouen who sat sharing a bottle of red wine.

“Oh no. No more for me please.” Just as Kouen was about to tip some more of the red liquor in her glass, the Queen politely bowed her head, fluttering her lashes. “My tolerance for alcohol isn’t the greatest thing in the world.”

“Oh?.” Kouen hummed, nodding in response before filling up his own. “I expected you to perhaps be a little more like you’re husband.”

“An old drunkard?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But is it not what you meant?”

“I—“ Kouen seemed at a loss for words for a second, perhaps embarrassed, but saved himself rather quickly without a hint of emotion on his face. “What I meant was, a lover of a banquet. Sinbad has attended many, I assumed you would have been more on par with him when it came to drinking and party games.”

The Queen watched Kouen take a sip of his wine, her lips pulling up into a soft smirk. “Something tells me Kouen if I was anything like my husband you wouldn’t want to be sat here with me.” Kouen was slow to place down his drink, his sharp eyes meeting Sinbad’s wife’s.

“Would you rather me sit elsewhere?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But is it not what you meant?” Now, it was his turn to smirk.

“I—“ With a soft laugh, the regal woman before Kouen grew flustered, picking up her glass and swirling the remaining wine contents around to allow her to look elsewhere. “You really are as they say Kouen. Quite an interesting man. I enjoy getting to know you.” Lifting up her head, the Queen rose an eyebrow, a smile now residing on her face. “Every word I say sinks in doesn’t it?”

“Your highness. If any man does not listen to you, does he really deserve to be in your presence? If my sisters were simply cast aside, I wouldn’t be so forgiving to the suitor who was to do that.” It was a lie, the Queen had heard of Kouen and his family sending off the young princess to he married to a King who wanted nothing more then a pretty face. Was there more to the story? Most likely. But was that the gist of it? Yes. However, to indulge both Kouen and continue to gain the nervous attention of her husband shuffling in his seat, the Queen sighed out gently.

“You’re close to your family...?” It was hard to hear the rest, Sinbad practically chewing off his own hand right beside Masrurs ear.

“What are they saying!?” Simply, Masrur shrugged. “Something about family.” It was no fun telling Sinbad everything. Groaning, Sinbad flopped back into his seat, picking up his wine with a pout.

“It doesn’t taste the same knowing at the end of the night she’s not going to be dragging me back to our room...”

“Who? Her highness?” The three men all turned abruptly to face Kogyoku, who smiled sheepishly. “I’m awfully sorry...” she stuttered out. “I didn’t mean to pry, I just came to say hello and over heard you talking."

Knowing that any ill intentions towards Kougyoku’s older brother would harm his reputation with the Kou empire, Sinbad put on his best charming smile, acting as though he wasn’t emotionally conflicted on the inside. “Ah Princess. What a pleasure to be seeing you again. Are you enjoying the banquet?” With a smile, the pinkette nodded her head.

“I am very much your highness. I hope you’re also enjoying yourself.” With that, her eyes flickered upwards to the Queen of Sindrian and the most influential man in the whole of the Kou empire. “It seems her highness is enjoying herself to. I’ve never seen Kouen so invested in somebody. It’s a real testimony to your wife.” Kougyoku was of course NOT JEALOUS. Not once had she imagined herself sat on Sinbad's lap as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear! Nether the less, she continued her façade, knowing that after all it was her duty.

”They’re so deep in conversation, I wonder what they’re talking about.” Her words aren’t helping the purple male.

“As do I...”

“Kouen seems so relaxed around her highness. They really do get along don’t they?” Was she trying to give him a heart attack?

With a delightful laugh Sinbad nodded before finally rising to his feet. "They do indeed. In fact I feel a little bit left out. Perhaps I should pau the two a visit. Excuse me Princess, I do hope of seeing you again soon." Lifting her hand to his lips, Sinbad placed a soft kiss to the back of her hand before walking towards his wife and that thing trying to take her away. The King of Sindria looked at peace with all around him as he strode over, all intentions of causing havoc and disrupting the calm atmosphere completely gone for his being. At least it looked that way. If it didn't, he wouldn't have been a good King.

The two at the table saw him coming before he arrived and where as Kouen greeted him with a cut nod, seemingly displeased he was interrupting his time with his wife, who simply sent him a passive smile.

"Ah Your highness." Not Sin, not Sinbad, not my King, not my love. Just your highness. "Me and Kouen here--" Yet they were on first name basis? "Were just discussing-- Hmmph!"

As done many times before by the womanizer, Sinbad encased the back of his wife's head, bringing her face towards his own and then slamming their lips together in a rather mighty display right in front of the red princes eyes. He made sure it lasted. And his Queen? Who was she to deny Sinbads advances? As usual she practically melted into his affectionate assault, fragile hands moving to clasp at Sinbad's robes in an attempt to lull him closer...but two could play at that game. Pulling back from his beloved, Sinbad made sure to smirk, staring into her eyes for a brief moment. It was his way of saying "I'll get you back for this".

The sexual tension was undeniable and Sinbad had hoped Kouen could sense her thighs rubbing together like he could, because that was the closest Kouen would get.

"Hm? Talking about what? I didn't quite catch that my Queen."

Meanwhile, back at Sinbad's table, Ja'far sighed in aggravation as he watched the scene Sinbad caused in absolute horror. "Honestly, this man really does test my patience! Can he not just let his wife butter up Kouen! If anything it benefits us!"

"Hmm."

"Just for one second, can he think about anything else other then his-"

"Dick?"

"I was going to say pride but that works too."

#magi #magi sinbad #magi ja'far #magi masrur #magi kougyoku #magi kouen #magi x sinbad #magi x kouen #magi kingdom of magic #magi labyrinth of magic #magi sinbad imagine #magi sinbad headcannons #magi sinbad x reader #magi kouen imagine #magi kouen x reader #magi kouen headcannons #magi kou empire #magi sindria #magi the eight generals #magi x reader #magi imagine #magi headcannons #magi imagines

[thirstyforcharacters]

Welcome Home (Sam Wilson x Reader)

Summary: After being away for two months on a mission, Sam has finally returned home for his loving wife. Y/n makes sure that their reuniting is both sweet and spicy.

Notes: Hi!!! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I probably still won’t be quite as active on this account as I used to be, but I will definitely be back to post some new fics, like this cute one I thought up! I was running low on inspo, so I watched Ant Man yesterday, and the .5 seconds with Sam in it made me want to write this! I hope you like this one bc I really do!!!

Warnings: smut!! 18+ only!! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (they’re married tho so it’s fine), sleepy morning sex :)

WC: 1.3 k

Sam was so excited to be home. He had been gone nearly two months, which was a month longer than originally intended. The mission in Barcelona, Spain was to sniff out one of the world’s most notorious mob bosses, but when it turned out that he also had connections to Hydra (it seemed like everyone did these days), he and Bucky stayed longer to take down Hydra’s Barcelonian sect. They were hoping it would take a week, max, but it ended up consuming another full month. But now, Sam was finally home, and was able to return to his loving wife.

He arrived home at exactly 2:54 am (not that he was counting), and their home was quiet. All of the lights were off, and the only sound he could hear was the snoring of Macaroni, their chunky bulldog. He couldn’t help but smile as he passed the sleeping creature, excited to start going on walks with him again. Sam made his way upstairs cautiously and crept down the hallway, the creaky floorboards threatening to disturb the peace as he took every step. He turned the doorknob to their shared bedroom and slowly pushed the door open, and was relieved to see that despite their noisey floor, his wife was still fast asleep. He smiled at her sleeping form, which was clad only in one of his t-shirts and clutching his pillow to her chest. He placed the bag containing his uniform on the floor, foregoing putting it away properly to climb into bed beside his beloved. He carefully removed the pillow from her iron grip and wrapped his arms around her waist, falling asleep almost instantly. He supposed he didn’t realize how exhausted he was.

When Y/n awoke the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the sun streaming through their curtains. The second was the uniform bag haphazardly strewn on the floor. And the third was her husband’s muscular arms wrapped around her waist. A sleepy grin stretched across her face, and she turned over in Sam’s arms to look at his face. He looked so at peace; a small smile was on his face, and when he was sleeping, the almost permanent crease in his brow was erased. She gently brushed her thumb over his cheek, wanting to take in the picture in front of her. But soon, she found herself wanting something else. Her gaze fell from his sleeping face to his shirtless torso, and she grazed the digits that touched his face down his abdomen. Sam shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Good. She wanted to wake him up herself.

Slowly, Y/n turned Sam so that he was lying on his back. She replaced her fingers with her lips, softly dotting kisses down his abs until she reached his pantline. She tugged his sweatpants down slowly, still not wanting to wake him. She did the same with his boxers, pulling the offending materials off of his legs. After throwing the materials on the floor, she returned to her husband’s side. Leaning forward, she gently took his now exposed cock in her hand, stroking it a few times to get it to full hardness. By now, Sam was starting to stir above her, and she knew she had to be a little quicker. A few kitten licks were placed at the head of his cock before leaning up and giving his balls the same treatment. Y/n could hear a few soft whimpers from above her, and she felt a pair of hands making their way into her hair.

She pulled back from him, looking her husband in the eyes for the first time in months as she crooned, “Good morning, honey. Welcome home.”

His eyes were wide, and still hazy with sleep. His lips were parted as she lowered her head back down and licked stripes up his cock.

“You’re a fucking dream, baby. Missed you so much,” he whispered huskily.

She pulled back again, “Missed you, too,” before sucking the head into her mouth.

He moaned softly, gently guiding her head further down onto his cock. She went pliantly, able to take everything he was giving her. That was the benefit of being married for 5 years, she supposed. Her nose soon brushed his pelvis, and she felt one of Sam’s hands move from holding her head to grasping her hand, rubbing it with his thumb.

“That’s perfect, Y/n. Always make me feel so good,” Sam praised, enjoying the soft moan that fell from her lips in reply.

Too soon, his cock twitched in her mouth, signaling his eminent release. But instead of letting him cum, she pulled her mouth off of him, pressing a kiss to the tip.

“Don’t want you to cum yet, Sam. Wanna ride you first,” she explained.

He nodded, moving to sit up as his wife moved to straddle his waist.

Sam ran his thumb against her cheek and murmured, “You’re so beautiful, Y/n. Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Thank you, Sammy. I got lucky too, you know. Just wish you were home a little bit more,” Y/n replied with a fond smile on her face.

Sam smiled sadly, “Sorry, honey. Wish I could be home more too, but-”

“I know, you need to go be a hero,” Y/n interrupted, “just promise you’ll come back to me every time, like you did this time.”

“I promise, my love. Every time.”

At his words, she slowly sunk down onto his cock, moaning softly at the stretch. Every time he’d return home from a long mission, it felt like the first time. She had to get used to his size all over again. But though the stretch burned slightly, it felt so damned good.

Sam’s own sounds of pleasure fell from his lips as her snug walls enveloped him. It was like coming home. He knew that no matter what happened outside of the walls of their home, he would come home to her and everything would be okay.

Before long, Y/n was bouncing on his cock. She set a slow, steady pace, her tits bouncing slightly with her movements as his hands gently cradled her hips. It was soft and sweet, perfect for an early morning, and even more perfect for their first time in two months. Soft whispers of “I love you” were exchanged, and the only other sound that could be heard was the gentle slapping of skin against skin. She leaned down and pressed loving kisses to his lips, which he eagerly returned as he guided her movements on his cock.

Soon, they were both close. One of Sam’s hands moved to Y/n center, rubbing her clit, while Y/n sped up her pace slightly, hoping to have him cum along with her. As soon as Sam toyed with her clit, she reached her high, gasping out her husband’s name like a mantra as her orgasm flowed through her. It was a pleasant warmth, washing through the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes, like ocean water on a hot summer day. The tightening of her pussy brough Sam over the edge, as ribbons of cum coated her walls.

The two reunited lovers were silent for a moment, only their breathing filling the silence of the room. It felt good to finally be back together, after having been separated for so long. Soon, though, Y/n climbed off of Sam and flopped onto the bed beside him. Sam got up from the bed and wandered to their bathroom, coming out with a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned her off, and did the same for himself before returning to her side. They faced each other, placing warm kisses on the other’s lips, happy to be back in each others’ arms. Though they both knew that someday soon, Sam would have to leave again, they found solace in moments like these, where the only thing in the world that mattered was each other.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson blurb #falcon #falcon x reader #falcon x y/n #falcon x you #falcon fanfiction #falcon smut

[lunaverseimagine]

Escape

Prompt:  I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with from @masterofthedarkness‘ 300 follower writing challenge! Congratulations again Val, I hope you like it <3

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You’re having a bad day and your crush seems to notice

Warnings: Mention of injury (not your own), mention of alcohol

Word count: 2k

A/n: So I had a complete brain flop writing this and forgot that Snape was not, in fact, teaching potions in the Marauders era. However, I’ve written the fic now and don’t have the energy to change it, so consider this an AU of sorts? (Putting in bold bc I keep getting comments about it)

Fic:

It started the moment you woke up. You couldn’t explain why but all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed, wrap the duvet round you, and hide from the world. It was as though your energy had been sucked out of you, leaving a shell that felt too heavy. And yet you were a good student, you couldn’t stand missing lessons, plus you didn’t want anyone worrying about you. Which is why, in spite of your body’s groaning protests, you heaved yourself out of your dorm and down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

Your friends were talking animatedly around you, occasionally trying to get you to join in the conversation, but all you offered in response were weak smiles and one word replies. As a last resort your best fried Beth tried bringing up your crush, Sirius. The topic normally excited you, but today it was just a reminder that nothing would happen between you, and you became even more withdrawn. Luckily your friends understood - you wanted to be near them but weren’t up to their early morning gossip - so they stayed with you but didn’t try to get you to speak anymore.

As always, halfway through your meal the owls swooped into the hall, bringing newspapers, letters, and the occasional parcel. Mild surprise filled you at the sight of your own family’s owl Lolly settling in front of you. You stroked her head before gently untying the small, crumpled letter attached to her leg, and she nipped your finger affectionately. Your parents didn’t send you letters very often, and you were stumped as to what could be written inside. You took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

Unfolding the parchment carefully revealed your mum’s scrawled handwriting. Odd. Normally your dad would write the letters; he found it calming to sit with his parchment and special quill after a long day as an auror, pondering his words for a while to make his messages as concise as possible. He said the process was therapeutic. But when you read the words inside it made sense, and you felt your stomach drop.

“Y/n, I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know. Dad was injured at work. The healers say it’s treatable but he’ll be in St Mungo’s for a while. Hope school is going ok. Love Mum xx”

Swallowing your tears down, you let the letter fall from your hands and settle on the table. You forced your eyes to look up, away from the words, and you could’ve sworn you caught Sirius watching you from across the hall. As soon as you’d thought it, he’d already turned back to his friends, and you shook your head at yourself. So desperate that you were imagining interactions with your crush. Pathetic. You lay your hand in Lolly’s warm fur, focussing on how soft she felt between your fingers, trying to push the rest of your thoughts to the back of your mind. Breaking down in the middle of the Great Hall was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your lessons did nothing to help your mood. In transfiguration you were supposed to be turning rats into clocks. By the end of the class most students had done it perfectly, but your clock had a tail instead of an hour hand, and instead of ticking it squeaked with every passing second. You felt so deflated, the only thought that kept you going was getting back to your dorm at the end of the day and hiding in your bed. Maybe finding some firewhiskey too to dull the aching you felt when your thoughts drifted to your dad in a hospital bed. In fact, what you really wanted, the one thing that might bring you peace, was to have someone hold you. Not just someone. Sirius. But you knew as well as anyone that he wouldn’t be interested in the likes of you. You couldn’t event transfigure a rat, you’d never be good enough.

You had mixed feelings as you made your way to your last lesson of the day. After this you were free for the evening, but first you had to endure an hour of Snape’s teaching, and his judgement of you. Potions was your worst subject and Snape made a point of noticing every little thing you did wrong. Begrudgingly you approached the dungeons, the echo of your footsteps was all that filled the empty corridors. Most of the time Hogwarts felt familiar, but in times like these it felt cold and unforgiving, emphasising the loneliness that was building in your chest. Wait- why was no one else in the corridors? With a jolt you realised that you’d spent so long lost in your thoughts between lessons that you were late. Your steps sped into a run, and when you finally burst through the door to Snape’s dungeon, he stopped mid sentence to scowl at you. Everyone else turned towards you too, so many pairs of eyes drilling into you. You willed the stone floor to swallow you whole.

“I will not tolerate students showing up late to my class.” You gulped, trying to suppress your heavy-breathing as you awaited your punishment. “I’d have thought you of all people would want to be present for the whole lesson. Then you might finally brew a decent potion. Alas…” he trailed off, a thoughtful expression on his face. You felt your cheeks burn, your head hung low. “Detention. After class you will scrub everyone’s cauldrons clean. No magic allowed.” It was all you could do to nod. You felt so defeated as you stood at the table beside Beth that you almost didn’t notice the small explosion a few tables behind you. You whipped your head around, and- no, you definitely weren’t imagining it this time- Sirius winked at you as Snape stalked between the desks towards the commotion. He glared down at Sirius.

“Looks like Y/L/N won’t be alone in detention.” He sneered, and weaved his way to the front of the class without another word. Your jaw was slack and Beth nudged you with her elbow. 

“He did that on purpose!” She whisper-yelled. Your jaw was slack, not quite sure if you believed her.

“Well- well maybe it was an accident? Or he did it for fun?” Your excuses were weak even to your own ears. But why would he want to be in detention with you?

Seconds stretched into minutes as you willed the time away. Thankfully Beth was good at potions so she did most of the work, telling you which ingredients to chop and when to add them to the cauldron. Snape still found things to fault but you just tuned his voice out, feeling like you were watching the scene through a window instead of being in it yourself.

Eventually the class was dismissed, and Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and mouthed “good luck” as she left the room. When it was just you, Sirius and Snape left, he held a hand out to each of you.

“Wands.” Reluctantly you and Sirius both placed your wands in his hands, not quite meeting his eye as you did so. “I want the equipment spotless.” With that he left the room. Despite feeling as bad as you did, you couldn’t help your heartbeat quickening at the thought of being alone with Sirius.

Avoiding his eye, you crossed the room to the cupboard full of cleaning supplies, dirty cauldrons being the only thing that stood in the way of you and the relative peace of your dorm. You felt his gaze on the back of your head.

“What?” You kept your focus on the cupboard, rummaging through the supplies to find what you needed.

“Are you ok?” After a moment, you turned to face him, throwing a sponge which he caught effortlessly, without breaking eye-contact.

“I’ve been better.” You didn’t elaborate, instead getting to work scrubbing the grime off the cauldron closest to you. Sirius abandoned his sponge, coming to stand on the opposite side of your table, watching your determined face as you tried to get one particularly tough spot of dragon-bogey off the side of the cauldron. He found himself admiring the way you furrowed your brows as you concentrated, the way your tongue poked out slightly from between your lips. Those lips. You, on the other hand, were thinking about how it would take double the time to clean if Sirius didn’t do his half. Subconsciously you squeezed your sponge tighter until your knuckles turned white.

“I bet I could make you feel better.” You huffed. Sure you had feelings for Sirius, but he could still be infuriating.

“I bet you could.”

His eyes twinkled, surprised that you’d joined in with his flirting. “Oh yeah, how’s that?” His hopes were soon shattered as you replied.

“By helping me clean so we can leave this bloody dungeon.” Sirius was taken aback. You never normally snapped at people, and he was just trying to be nice. Godric, he’d got himself a detention just so you wouldn’t be alone.

“You know what? Fine.” He stormed back over to his sponge and started cleaning the cauldron furthest away from you. The two of you scrubbed in silence for a while, making decent progress on the cauldrons, but you felt guilt creeping in at the way you’d treated him. The guilt, the tiredness, the worry about your dad, all of it swirled through your thoughts in a perpetual loop until you couldn’t help it anymore. You let out a small sob, trying your best to be quiet, but in the otherwise silent room Sirius heard it perfectly. He abandoned his cauldron, rushing over to embrace you in a hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back. He had no clue what to say, but the silence didn’t bother you. It gave you a chance to work through your feelings. 

After a while you pulled away, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your robes. “Oh Merlin, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for darling.” He rested his hand on your arm for a moment, waiting to see if you wanted to say anything else. When you just smiled, he returned the smile, before going back to cleaning the cauldrons. This time the silence that filled the room was comfortable, both of you lost in thought. Finally, arms aching, the two of you finished your last cauldrons, and Sirius went to Snape’s office to collect your wands. You sat on the floor outside the classroom waiting for him, picking at a loose thread on your robe. When Sirius returned he handed you your wand, and slid down the wall so he was sitting next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder, whispering into the corridor.

“Thank you.” 

Sirius wrapped an arm round your shoulders. “What for?”

“I know you got that detention on purpose. Just- thank you for being there.”

“Not a problem darling.” His fingers traced tender circles on your shoulder, and you felt yourself melting in to him. Being so close to him you thought you’d be nervous, but instead you felt peaceful. Safe. 

Sirius broke the silence. “What’s going on?” It was almost a whisper, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should’ve asked, but he couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own. He needed you to know that he was there to listen.

“It’s just- it’s a bit of everything, y’know? I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” You laughed at how stupid that sounded, but Sirius took your hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“I’ve got some firewhisky in my room?” It came out as a question.

You turned so you were face-to-face.

“And the cuddles?”

“I’m sure I’ve got some of those to spare too.” He lifted your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on each knuckle in turn. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation. Then he stood up, helping you off the floor after him, and your hands stayed connected the whole walk back to his common room.

End

A/N: I hope you liked it (regardless of the Snape/Sirius timeline error oopsies)! If you did feel free to give feedback or check out my other stuff, and also give Val (@masterofthedarkness) a follow if you haven’t already! <3

#vals300challenge #sirius black #sirius imagine #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius fluff #sirius x y/n #sirius fanfic #sirius oneshot #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #marauders fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius black fanfic

[jessiebanethedragon]

so i randomly thought about a fic with crosshair with his iconic line "you miss me? how touching" and im kinda shocked about how it doesnt exist! so i went to you to request this 👉👈 bcs you're one of my fav fic writers and i'd like to see it from you, no pressure though! bcs i know you dont exactly have all your hours to provide us with fan content :] <3

Hello! thank you so much for this request i’ve been in love with the idea for so long sorry it took me ages to get it written! anyways here it is! 

love ya oxoxox Jessie

Miss you (Crosshair x separatist!Reader)

You met Crosshair in a hurricane of cruses, punches and a bloody nose on his part. And from the glare he sent you way after Hunter had wrestled you into binders, you knew the mutual feeling of hatred was obvious. And of course, when the republic so graciously offered to help you make amends, in return for separatist intel and a forgoing of your prison sentence they put you back into the clutches of Clone Force 99. 

Crosshair could not stand you. With enough cheek and sass to rival his own, and looks that were infuriatingly good, the resident sniper had it out for you. 

But to be fair, you hated him as well. You hated how tall he was, how his deceivingly slim frame gave way to sturdy muscle that your hands had been over top of on a singular occasion that you couldn't get out of your head. 

“Tell me the layout again.” Sergeant Hunter demanded, standing over a disastrously incorrect map of a separatist base. 

“You’d be better off without a map at all!” Exclaimed throwing your hands up in defeat, “the weapons room is here, on the west side of the basement. Not on the east side of the top floor.” You went through the entire map again and again, in order for Hunter to relay it to Tech when him and Crosshair got  back from intel. 

“I still don't understand why we have to be out in the middle of nowhere.” Tech’s voice crackled through the comms. 

“Because She can’t be trusted.” Crosshair hissed. 

“She has been completely honest with us thus far.” Tech retorted, 

“She has a name” You called into your vambrace, 

“Fine, The separatist cannot be trusted.” Oh you could hear the smirk in his voice now. And the damn sniper wore it so well… 

“Ex-separatist.” Wrecker kindly pointed out in your defence. 

“Enough. All of you, Tech what's your status?” Hunter cut in, giving up on the holo-map completely. 

“Approaching the south entrance stand by.” You furred your brows, south, why did they go to the south. You distinctly remember telling them to go North… oh, oh shit. 

“Tech! Abort mission!” You said into your comm, grabbing your blaster and pack off of the walls of the ship. “Tech! Do not approach the south entrance. I repeat do not engage at the south entrance!” Why, Why did they never listen! You looked at Hunter and Wrecker who seemed unbothered. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Spitfire?” Wrecker asked teasingly, “South entrance is unguarded.” 

“According to your map, but according to me the south entrance is next to…” “The Barracks.” Hunter finished for you, before running into the cockpit shouting into his comms. You and Wrecker shared a look of panic. 

“Are you coming with me or not?”  You asked him, and his eyes darted to the cockpit where Hunter was currently firing up the engines and the ramp that was beginning to close. 

“I’ll meet you there Spitfire.” He promised, brothers come first, you could understand that. And even though you knew the Havoc Marauder could get there faster, something other than your brain told you that you had to go on foot. And so you threw yourself out of the rising ship, and onto the forest floor of a separatist planet. 

And that, well that brings us to the present situation, finding yourself once again in a pair of binders and your comrades nowhere to be found. In hindsight, trampoline through the undergrowth like a bantha on spice wasn't the best idea. But maybe you cared more for Clone  Force 99 than you’d like to admit. 

“Where are they?” Whorm Loathsom sneered, far too close for comfort. 

“The term ‘they’ is pretty ambiguous, could you perhaps speci-fy” your sentence was cut off as his clawed hand met your throat, your own hands fumbling at his face as you struggle for air. 

“I’ll ask you again, traitor. Where are the clones you’ve been travelling with?” Loathsom didn’t let up on his grasp, and the corners of your vision were beginning to blur. 

“At... your... mother’s.” You choked out, still trying to wriggle out of his grasp. His claws were beginning to cut into your skin, and you knew blacking out was imminent. 

“I don’t think you have the time for sarcasm.” He hissed, increasing the pressure causing you to flounder in his grasp. “Now, i’m giving you a chance for redemption here. Tell. me. Where. They. Are!” Maker, you realized, he’s going to do it, he’s actually going to kill you. And just as yours eyes fluttered closed and you began to black out, you hit the floor with a resounding thunk. Only to be pulled onto your feet again and into something familiarly solid. 

“Miss me?” Crosshairs voice was heaven layered honey over the sounds of wheezing and laboured breaths. 

“Crosshair?” You gasped up at him, his arms around your frame moving to pick you up. 

“How touching, you almost look pleased to see me.” You blinked repeatedly at his smirk, before wincing as he began to move. 

“Where?” He asked, setting you down again. You tried to speak again but your lungs were still working double time. “What did they do to you?” He whispered, “I should've been faster.” 

“Crosshair,” you tried again, essentially mewling into his chest, “I can’t…. Can’t” you were panicked, scared, trying to chase a breath you just couldn't catch. 

“I’m going to kill them. I’m going to kill them all.” He snarled, standing up again with you safely in his arms. Maybe Clone Force 99 cared for you more than you thought. 

Bed rest sucks, you decide about one day into Techs mandated recovery schedule. What sucks more is him and Hunter marching you back to you bunk every time you try to get up. So, naturally, you resort to sneaking around during the night when the self-proclaimed medics of the Bad Batch are asleep. 

You clutch a cup of some kind of herbal drink, Wrecker and Tech keep them by the box load so you figured they must be at least decent. But right now you’re wondering if you missed something because the stupid wet herb-flower bag thing keeps flopping around in the cup every time you try to take a sip. And the thing is way too hot, so you resort to blowing the steam away as it rises. 

“Shouldn't you be in bed?” Crosshairs voice comes from the doorway into the hull of the Marauder. 

“Miss me?” You ask, mimicking him from before, enjoying the irony. 

“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’. You scoff at your mug of hot herbal whatnot. “Wrecker was beside himself though.” 

“Was he?” You tease your sniper, and a part of you wonders when he went from being ‘the’ sniper to ‘your’ sniper. 

“Yeah, inconsolable in fact.” Crosshair moves from the doorway over to your spot  in the hull of the ship. 

“Really?” you arch an eyebrow, standing in an embarrassing attempt to meet his height. But he’s closer than you calculated and in your adjustment you fumble and find yourself against the wall. 

“Aw, little Spitfire’s all choked up, mind the pun.” Crosshair sneers at you, stepping firmly into your personal space. 

“I do in fact.” You retort, “mind the pun, i also mind you in my personal bubble.” You go to plant a hand on his chest to push him away, but he’s so solid. Maker, why is he so warm and firm under your hands. Why, oh why, does he have to feel so perfect to your palms. And in the three times you’ve now touched him, Crosshair’s starting to feel familiar. 

“You gonna push me or just cop a feel?” He raises an eyebrow, but you miss it under the blush on your cheeks and your gaze hits the floor. His hand comes to your chin, index finger underneath while the thumb caresses your cheek. 

“I didn't get to thank you… for coming back for me.” You’re not sure where this is coming from, but it happens anyways. 

“You’ve got a weird way of apologizing Spitfire,” He murmurs looking back to your hands in his chest, watching your eyes react as he moves his other hand to your hip. He smirks oh so proudly when you sigh and relax into his hands, and move yours to hold his face and lightly  scratch at the short hair on his neck. 

“Crosshair…” You exhale looking at him, and the energy between the two of you does the rest of the talking as he leans down to connect his lips to yours. 

Kissing Crosshair seems to contradict everything else about him. It’s slow and soft, he takes his time memorizing the feeling and shape of your lips of his. And with all the time he’s spent pushing you away, now he’s pulling you impossibly close. Your kiss is akin to the second half of your nickname. Crosshair is on fire, but he can't bring himself to care. For you, he tastes of a forest after rainfall, crisp with mist and peaceful. You don't want it to ever end, but the burning in your abused lungs forces you to pull away. Immediately he pulls your foreheads together, a Keldabe kiss, because it’s the best he can get as you both heave for air. 

“I did miss you. And I was worried.” He tells you, lips brushing against your own  as he speaks. 

“I know,” You say, pressing a second kiss to his lips where you can both feel the other smile. 

#Clone Wars #clones #clone #Clone Troopers #The Clone Wars #clone wars x reader #the clone wars x reader #clone wars x y/n #clone wars x you #clone troopers x reader #Bad Batch #the bad batch #bad batch x reader #Star Wars: The Bad Batch #clone force 99 #clone force 99 x reader #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair #sergeant hunter #clone trooper Hunter #hunter clone #clone trooper wrecker #wrecker #clone trooper tech

[0606-hyuck]

BOYFRIEND!XIAOJUN

includes:

♡ before the relationship

♡ becoming comfortable/humour

♡ relationship with other members

♡ jealousy/pda/flirting

♡ disagreements

♡ dates/texting/social media

♡ languages/"i love you"

masterlist

enjoy!

wc: 1.5k

♡ before the relationship ♡

you shared a mutual friend but didn't know much about each other

ngl xiaojun probably had a crush on you since the first day he got to know you

he'd always heard things from your shared friend about you and thought you were great

so by the time you actually met each other at the mutual friend's party, he was really nervous to meet you bc of his crush

he was super shy but you were really kind to him which only increased his crush

you hung out with xiaojun and your friend more, and then eventually just xiaojun

the more time you spent together, the more you got to know each other and the more comfortable and relaxed he became

and you developed a crush on him too because he was just heaps of fun

tbh i can see xiaojun confessing to you first

HEAR ME OUT

so the rest of wayv know about his crush on you and they convince him to tell you

and so he does but the whole time he's nervous and lowkey awkward about it

"funny story, i-i actually kinda like you 🙂👉👈"

like it takes him about five minutes to actually spit it out and tell you

and he's shaking and sweating the whole time lol

"it's okay xiaojun, i like you too"

from then on you were dating!

♡ becoming comfortable/humour ♡

you thought xiaojun was shy and quiet when you first started dating

how wrong you were

don't get me wrong, he is totally an introvert when he's with strangers

but when he's with people he's comfortable around...oh lord

generally speaking, xiaojun is pretty calm on his own

but he will 100% join in on your or wayv's bullshit without hesitation

so if you're in a calm mood so is xiaojun

but if you're in a crackhead type mood, the older members of wayv are in for a treat

giggle fits for days

you love to tease him just because his reaction is so funny

your jokes are not funny, and xiaojun let's you know this

"WOW Y/N HA HA HA YOU'RE SO FUNNY"

but sometimes he humours you and banters along

xiaojun be on some terrible dad joke type beat

i have no evidence to back that up

it just feels like he has an obscure sense of humour

but you love it

most of the time though you like to team up and tease the other members

well, more accurately, you like to help xiaojun defend himself against wayv's teasing lol

when you both are in a calm mood it's so peaceful

you can sit in silence in each others presence for hours, each doing your own thing

sometimes you could spend the whole time just hanging out and the first thing you'd say to each other in ages would be "so what do you want for lunch?"

omg so cuddling with xiaojun!! my dream!!

i think he would lean towards wanting to be the big spoon

i also think he would be fine with you just flopping down and lying on top of him lol he'd probably think it was cute

omg can you imagine him just stroking your hair until you fall asleep

he'd be so warm and humming quietly near your ear to soothe you

and you'd fall asleep to the sound of his voice

ugh a girl can dream right

♡ relationship with other members ♡

xiaojun is like the middle child of wayv that gets teased relentlessly

so when he started dating you that gave the members another thing to tease him about

he tries to be really romantic and sweet towards you which you find really cute

but wayv like to clown him for it

eg screaming like little girls when he says something sappy or remotely romantic

they like to say stuff like "damn how did xiaojun end up with someone like you??"

but they mean it as a joke bc they do love xiaojun

the worst thing the older members can do though is leave you, xiaojun, hendery, and yangyang in the same room unattended

i don't think i even need to explain why this is a terrible idea

overall wayv think you're heaps of fun and a good match for xiaojun

♡ jealousy/pda/flirting ♡

xiaojun gives me jealous vibes

he'd be embarrassed for being jealous, but he would also let you know he is

if one of the members were flirting with you, even jokingly, he would straight up tell them to stop doing that

if it was a stranger he'd likely let you deal with it, but then tell you afterwards how jealous it made him

it's kind of attractive though? knowing that your boyfriend is a lil possessive of you and will give you heaps of cuddles and kisses afterwards

for some reason i feel like xiaojun wouldn't really mind pda?

if you wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek in public he'd let you

and he would definitely want to hold your hand or have you close

he'd only get embarrassed if you were super obvious about it

so he vibes with lowkey pda but nothing more

xiaojun is more romantic than a cheesy flirter

if he pulls some cringey lines it's because he genuinely thinks it's good flirting, rather than doing it to make you laugh

he prefers to show you how much he loves you rather than tell you

and if you were to flirt with him, he wouldn't know how to act

he would become a massive stuttering, blushing mess

"wow y/n you're such an embarrassing flirter"

but he secretly loves it

♡ disagreements? ♡

ugh xiaojun is just so perfect

everything he does is great

so i can't even comment on possible disagreements you'd have because i can't think of any flaws he has

♡ dates/texting/social media ♡

he prefers low effort dates

if you want to do something extravagant he's usually down, as long as you organise it lol

but he enjoys just being with you, so he'd count watching a movie in the dorm as a date

he's always romantic though and buying you stuff that reminds him of you

pretty jewellery, flowers, stuffed plushies etc

he's a very emotional guy

so he likes to have deep conversations with you about his feelings

it always makes him a little nervous to open up but he knows you won't judge him and will listen to his feelings

and he's always checking in with you to make sure you're comfortable in the relationship too

just imagine xiaojun trying his best to be the best boyfriend possible

like he doesn't have a lot of experience and you're his first serious relationship, but everything he does is so thoughtful

🥺💕

xiaojun would miss you heaps when he was away

he's really good at texting you at almost the same time every day to check in

loves facetiming and listening to you talk

or he'll be excited to show you a new song he learned so he'll sing for you omg

he also rings you whenever he's having self doubt or worrying about something and he needs encouragement

and you have no problem boosting his confidence and telling him how talented his is

if he prefers you're happy to talk about random things to take him mind of the problems he's having

around 60% of his social media is you/selfies with you

luckily for you he sends the picture to you before posting it to make sure you like it

and if you think you look bad in it he won't post it because he doesn't want to embarrass you or make you feel insecure

he will also comment on all your pictures you post

he will either post a funny comment or something like "😃👍" LMAOOO

♡ languages/"i love you" ♡

xiaojun prefers to speak with you in chinese (mandarin/cantonese)

although he has the basics of korean down and tbh his english doesn't actually seem that bad, so he'd probably learn those for you if need be

i think he would rather teach you chinese instead of learning a language himself lol

and he'd be a very encouraging teacher too

maybe confusing and not very clear

but supportive and that's what counts haha

you're the first one to say "i love you"

and i do not blame you at all

let's just admit that we're all whipped for xiaojun

when you say it, you actually shock xiaojun into silence

tbh, he's been wanting to say the exact same thing to you for ages but never had the balls to do it

so he's proud that you said it? but he also gets really flustered and blushed

but he's super flattered and thinks it really sweet you said it first

he'd probably go all shy and say something like "oh, thank you"

and a few days later he'd say it back to you before giving you a big ole kiss

*sigh* i really love xiaojun

stan wayv or else you're a cockroach

other members: kun | ten | winwin | lucas | hendery | yangyang

© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.

#neowritingsnet #nct #wayv #nct imagine #nct scenario #wayv imagine #wayv scenario #wayv as your boyfriends #xiaojun #xiaojun nct #nct xiaojun #xiaojun wayv #wayv xiaojun #xiaojun x reader #xiao dejun #hellabts

[kaaytea]

S/O does their makeup

⤷Includes: Akaashi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Sugawara

A/N: wow look I did self insert stuff for once, absolutely wild. I had a blast writing this so enjoy :))

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

Akaashi

The both of you were lying on the couch in the living room, he was lying on top of you while you scrolled through Instagram

You landed on a post with a very pretty, shimmery smoky eye

Inspiration has struck ✨

"Kaashi?"

"hmm?"

"can I do your makeup?"

"..."

"ok"

Tired Akaashi = he really doesn't care as long as he can relax

He gets up off of you and waits for you to return with yo makeup bag

He mayhaps have dozed off for a bit while you were doing his eyebrows

You were just being very gentle with him and he was so relaxed he just-🥺🥺 sleepy boy

You had to wake him up to do his eyeshadow tho and you felt so bad bc he looked so peaceful

He hated the eyeliner

It felt weird and you poked his eye a few times bc he kept moving

3/10 he doesn't recommend not a fun experience

You on the other hand were loving the look rn tho

He had a shimmery black smoky eye w/ some sliver glitter on the lid, and winged liner

Originally you wanted to do lashes too but decided not to for his safety and comfort

"Akaashi I need you to open your mouth slightly"

".....huh?"

"I'm putting your lipstick on"

"ok"

He's so compliant, he knows how happy this is making you so he just rolls with it

When you finish he opens his eyes and looks at you and you just 😳😳

If you thought he was beautiful before he is absolutely gorgeous now

"can I see?"

" OH... uh yeah sure"

You give him a hand held mirror and....he actually really likes how he looks? Never really thought makeup was for him but.... apparently it is bc wOw his brows look good

Has a big smile when he looks back at you

" I really like it"

" I- you don't hate it? Really?"

" of course not, my eyebrows look cool :))"

Only Akaashi Keiji would describe his perfect eyebrows as "cool"

Kuroo

Ha ha a curious kitty

You had just finished organizing your makeup, you had been putting off going through all of it and getting rid of expired/things you didn't use but you finally did it and now everything is v v clean and organized

Little did you know this curious cat had been watching you the whole time from your bed

Literally didn't even know he was there till he spoke to you

"Could you do my makeup?"

"what? You really want me to put makeup on you?"

"yeah, I'm intrigued by it. I wanna know how it feels"

You just kinda shrug, grab a few products and go to sit in front of him on the bed

Doesn't fidget at all, he stays completely still throughout the entire process

Asks alot of questions tho

"what's this do?"

" That's an eyelash curler"

" It looks like a torture device"

At first you were just gonna put some eyeliner on him and give him a fun lip color, but then you added a bit of pink eyeshadow and some gold graphic liner...and some red liner on his lower lash line

Yeah you kinda went wild

He was snooping around in the lil bag you had your single shadows in when you heard him gasp

" is this heart shaped glitter??!!"

"uuh yeah"

"PUT IT ON ME!!"

He's very excited about the glitter 😌😌

You put it high up on his cheek bones/ under his eyes

By some miracle you were able to get lashes on him

He was very happy with how it turned out

" damn I look really hot"

"wait this isn't fair, how come you're like 10x more sexy now :("

"Some people are just born with it babe"

Deff sends a photo to Bokuto and acts like he's trying to slide into his dms

"Hey there big boy, heard you're good at spiking balls, maybe you could hit some other things for me ;))"

"HDJDBSKSJ!!!"

"WAIT WHY DO YOU ACTUALLY LOOK GOOD?? I DONT LIKE THIS!!!"

";))"

Bokuto

He's the one who asked you

He was really bored and just kinda flopped on your bed, it was one of those stormy days where you couldn't go out

He spotted your makeup bag on top of the dresser

Came up to you in the kitchen holding it like 🥺👉👈

"Can you make me pretty like you?"

"you're already pretty Bo"

"But I want to be as pretty as you.."

"....ok sit down"

"🥰🥰"

Will nOt stop moving, he is vErY fidgety

Opens almost every product you have and smells it

Was very excited to find out liquid lipstick smelt like cupcakes

You let him choose what colors he wanted bc of how excited he seemed

Was that a mistake?....maybe but the way his face lit up looking at all the colors was worth it

"YEs!"

"so you want blue eyeshadow with lime green eyeliner and purple lipstick?"

He's just a big puppy let him be 🥺🥺

You had to redo his eyeliner like 3 times bc he kept fidgeting

Liked looking at all the different brushes you had, he also ranked them by their softness level

Picked up one of your blending brushes and booped you on the nose with it

Explaining fake lashes to him is so difficult, he looks at you like you're explaining rocket science

"you just add a bit of glue on here, and then put the lash on your eye. They just make your lashes look really long and full"

"......eye wigs"

"I- no"

He was very excited when you finished

Immediately took on the persona of a rich lady

Was using one of the tote bags you use to carry your groceries as a "purse" and grabbed the small bitchy sunglasses you own

He looked really good

"ok ok, Bo thats enough"

"Sorry what? I don't speak poor person"

Sugawara

Sunday afternoon cuddles with Suga are the best

You guys were both lounging curled up together doing your own things

He was reading a book Ennoshita recommend and you were messing around on your phone

You ended up getting bored so you put your phone down to snuggle closer to him

You just kinda watched him read for a bit, admiring his features

He let out a small sigh and put his book down

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just how pretty you are"

"Well I think you're gorgeous"

He's such a sweetheart 🥺

You guys just kinda enjoy the silence for a bit as he pressed light kisses down your jaw

"Would you let me do your makeup?"

"mmm I don't know..."

"....I'll give you kisses"

"...."

"deal 👀"

Tells you not to do anything too crazy, which is fine with you

You opt for the classic cat eye and red lip 😌

He stays still for the most part but makes you take breaks when doing the eyeliner bc it feels funky

He has a habit of humming so he hums lil songs for you while you work 🥺

Had a blAst playing with your beauty blender, it was like a lil stress ball

He looks v v good with highlighter on, he's just got really nice cheek bones

Sorry babe but fake lashes aren't happening, he will physically resist if you attempt to put them on him

He liked the lipstick tho, it felt nice

You took a picture of him before handing him a mirror new phone background

Was kinda meh about wearing makeup but complimented your skills

He loves encouraging you and praising your skills bro

"you're really good at doing makeup y/n"

"well I'd hope so, I've been doing it for a long time"

"....."

"Can I get my kisses now"

"Of course you can baby"

The kisses were worth the wait :))

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu headcanons #sugawara headcanon #sugawara #sugawara x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo testuro #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x reader #Bokuto x reader #bokuto headcanons #akaashi headcanons #sugawara imagine #kuroo imagine #akaashi imagine #bokuto imagine #kuroo scenarios #akaashi scenarios #sugawara scenario #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #sugawara hcs #kuroo hcs #akaashi hcs #bokuto hcs #sugawara koushi

[halcyon-writings]

family

requested?: yes (anonymous) //tldr, if alucard had a sibling (the reader, of course) dealing with the loss of family, both living and not

note(s)/warning(s): canonical character death, spoilers babyyyyy, violence and injury, angst it’s rare for anyone in this series to have a good time huh?, also for this being that the reader can literally look however you want, imma say Lisa isn’t white bc I do what I want and it’s my fic :) this is also the most i’ve written in a good while omg, im highkey proud so pls don’t let this flop

Lisa Tepes is dead.

Your mother, is dead.

Killed, burned alive. Gone to ashes.

All because the church had believed she was a witch of sorts. Several thoughts dance in the back of your mind as you gaze upon the pyre. Smoldering from the heat, the flames gone. Your father leaving his message, no, his warning, that he would act in one year.

“A farce that was!” You hear a shout, and you force down the bitter laugh, throat tight and eyes burning. Especially so when you slowly begin to hear continued shouts of agreement, from voices previously silent.

Here your mother was, her final resting place. Burned to ashes for some sick show of power.

And you could do nothing as she was mocked for it.

Your fist clenched at your side, you feel your nails cutting into your skin, but you walk away to return home.

And to say that the castle was no less better was an understatement. Your father was most likely in his quarters.

And when you finally sit down, the weight of your weary finally settling against your soul, do you allow yourself cry. Quiet tears turning to sobs as you muffle your voice with a pillow.

You had failed her. Missing the chance to save your mother, too late to have done anything.

But you pause, noticing the presence at your door, your brothers familiar knocking pattern resounding suddenly through the empty hall.

“Come in,” Your voice is embarrassingly raspy. As you clear your throat, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. But it wouldn’t hide the redness of your eyes.

Adrian says nothing, and a part of you wishes he did. His larger hand takes yours. A comforting squeeze.

You blink again feeling your eyes burn, and you squeeze his hand back.

“Father is...” He trails off, no doubt thinking of what he could say next.

“What he plans on doing, it’s not justice.”

You stare up at him, But it would be deserving. A bitter corner of your mind supplies.

While Adrian had taken after Mother in his demeanor, much more kinder, more welcoming. You were no doubt like Father. Reserved, distrusting, easily prone to grudges if you were wronged in some way.

But you bite your tongue.

“He gave them a year,” You murmur after some time, “But no doubt he’s ready to calling his armies.”

At this Adrian turns alarmed. the warmth from his hand slips away.

“We must stop him!”

You’re still reeling from the events from earlier today, and a part of you wishes to have no part in his attempt to try and stop your father. But then you remember your mother.

Her kindness, regardless of how she was viewed for being different.

And your warily stand anyway.

If only you had more sense. Your father remains eerily silent as he embraces you both. His hold tighter, and while Adrian seemed convinced, you saw the dark look in his eyes.

The year had passed. You weren’t surprised to hear of the bloodshed.

It was naive to expect otherwise. While reluctantly following your brother, you can only stand, frozen as your blood feels like ice in your veins as your remaining family clashes.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

They don’t hear you.

Glass shatters.

And foolishly enough, you rush forward.

-

With your brother injured and fleeing, and you yourself were not free from any sort of pain.

Stepping in between the two as they fought ended with a gnarly gash on your shoulder, as you fell to your knees and blood slipping past your fingers. Your father stands in front of you, like a protective pillar as your brother stares in shock, quickly wanting to help you in some way.

And then the fight is over. Your brother is gone too.

The castle is much larger and colder now.

As you’re confined to your room, the wound healing into an angry red, then to a muted and dull scar. For a moment you wished it took longer, your father guilty and you were reminded of times you had been sick when you were younger. While you had not been too keen on the typical children’s books, reading theory on physics and other sciences only seemed fun when he would read to you and you’d ask questions in between passages. (Your voice funny from a stuffy nose led to laughter and a small coughing fit but otherwise it was nice).

But now was not the time to reminisce on the happy childhood.

You know you cannot stay. Ultimately, Adrian had been right. Once you feel as though you can move your arm once again, slowly, you begin pack a small bag. You didn’t want to build up any suspicions, finding some money in your room and whenever you could take a few coins or so from your father that he would not miss.

Extra clothes were folded and put away separately.

And you make your escape on a rainy evening, the uneven droplets helping hide your tracks. But you knew now that your father had brought back Hector and Isaac, new generals to help fight in his war, you had to be weary of the night creatures that would no doubt be sent after you.

Well, you were creative. At times flying in a transformed look, no one would suspect a bat in the dark of night afterall. And it was easier to. find good vantage points that way. But to also avoid any people, you didn’t quite trust yourself to not get into an altercation with a bigot.

You rarely slept longer than necessary, especially not when those dreams were memories or nightmares.

Now that you had learned how to walk, you were a right menace. It was an uphill battle in itself to keep you in one place. You were curious and the world you knew (being your father’s vast castle) was huge. Your childlike curiosity was never let down by your adventures.

You laugh quietly, which sounds like small squeaks as you fly up and hide above the gaudy chandeliers. Your father, giant coat gone, hair tied back and in a plain dress shirt and slacks as he searched for a curious toddler.

Snickers continuing as he paces down the hall. You hop down, landing slowly and feet planting into the ground, knees bent. Before you had down the opposite direction.

The lab usually wasn’t a place you could be allowed in on your own. But having heard that your mother was there, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem! So your little legs carried you along. Until you found the familiar doorway.

Dozens of tubes and mechanisms had you turning your head as you wandered in, your shoes tapping against the marble floor.

“Now what brings you here, sweetling?” The warmth of your mother’s voice has you smiling before you see her. As you run forward and hug her side, clutching her dress in your small fists. “Not causing trouble for your father are you?”

You shake your head grin betraying your word, “Nope! I’m not doing any trouble!”

“And how since when did that happen?” She laughs gently.

“Now.”

Your brother looks up from his own books, waving before returning to work. Your nose crinkles, so much for playing experimenting. But before you can say much, your nearly yelp as you’re brought up into the air by a pair of strong arms.

“I’ve found you, little wanderer.” Your father’s voice carries no heat behind it. Then again, he was always soft hearted for you and your brother. But most of all, your mother.

“I’m not little!” You pout, “I’m big now!”

-

You’re taken away from your reverie at the snap of a twig.

With your lack of sleep, as you had insisted on traveling more, you were less than surprised to have been snuck up on.

“Peace, my friend,” The old man murmurs. You keep your knife in an iron grip in front of you. Who you’re guessing is his son or grandson, has his hands raised the same way, but no weapon to be seen, magic, oh good. Then again, not like you needed a knife when you could make your nails go into claws and the fangs. Don’t forget the fangs.

“I can’t exactly be peaceful when it’s the middle of the night and suddenly figures in blue robes appear out of now where,” You answer dryly. But seeing as how the others behind the main two have not done or said anything noteworthy, nor were their stances make them look like they could really fight, you lower your weapon slightly.

Clearing your throat, “Although, I shouldn’t be swinging my own weapon around either.”

The old man just smiles gently. And you can’t help but be just slightly comforted.

In the end, the speakers stop for the evening. And the Elder, despite looking like a frail old man, is firm in his decision that you stay and “eat properly.” And like a scolded child, you listen. Food and drink all but pushed into your hands as you’re quickly brought into conversation, the previous confrontation all but forgotten.

And then you perk up when he mentions Gresit.

“So... the sleeping soldier,” You begin, slowly chewing on the sweet bread you had been given. “It was true?”

The Elder nods, “My grandchild and a traveller, they had gone to explore it. Well, the traveller had gone to save my grandchild. I will not hide the fact that I was a bit doubtful. But Belmont had proved himself a man of his word. Although, he does need to drink more water.”

You blink, a look of a surprise clear on your face. Belmont...

Fuck. 

“Although I hadn’t expected the legend of the sleeping soldier to be realized so quickly.” 

At your inquisitive look, the Elder begins to explain. Of a holy warrior beneath Gresit, who would come to save it’s people in their most dire of hours. 

“The pair had come up with a man with long hair, like gold.” You couldn’t help but let out the breath you had been holding. So the Belmont didn’t try to kill him. you could breathe a little easier at that fact. 

“Where are they now?” You ask, holding the empty cup in your hands, as you stare down as though waiting for something.

Getting your answer, you stand, adjusting your bag over your shoulders. You wave off the concern in staying, if it had already been several days since the Speakers had left Gresit, then you needed to cover a lot of land to get to your brother. 

That is, until you saw the expression on the Elder’s face grow stern, as though he was scolding a child. With a heavier bag, one that the Elder insisted that you take some more things you could eat along the way, in exchange you give the Elder a small trinket you had been using to hide from the monsters of your father’s army, you finally set off. While your worries were not completely settled, your shoulders felt lighter. Metaphorically of course.

Of course, giving away the object that kept you hidden made it a bit more, difficult, when it came to trying to hide and travel at night. Much less even try to stop and rest. 

It had barely been two days since you had left the speakers, and already, you had run into some trouble, a beastly creature’s claws barely caught on your sleeve, leaving your arm bare as you shuddered from the chill in the air. You can only sigh mournfully, you really liked that coat. But, better your sleeve than say, you actually getting wounded. 

Your nails resemble claws, while your free hand holds the dagger in a steady grip. But being surrounded on all sides, it did not look promising.

Well, you thought mournfully, if you died you could at least see your mother again.

Until you hear the sound of what reminds you of a whistle? And then a sword flying through the air, slicing through the night creatures, giving you a chance to get some distance.

You hear the surprised shout of your name, and look up, to see your brother wide eyed, sword now returned to him, and a man and woman standing at his side.

“Um... hi.”

-

Much to your relief, the night creatures are easily taken care of.

And as you’re finally able to explain your story, you find yourself relaxing into the extra cloak given to you by the Elder.

“You mean you met the Speakers on your journey?!” A woman, petite with short blonde locks, who you learn is named Sypha, asks, and you notice the way her shoulders sag in relief.

You nod, “Yes. They all were safe.” If her shoulders sagged anymore she’d full on be slouching. You leave out the part of leaving a possibly precious trinket with them, not wanting her to think you cursed them or something.

“So you mean to tell me, Dracula, fucking Dracula, had more than one kid? That he actually had a woman not only give him not just one, but two children?” Is incredulously asked next by the scruffy looking man. Trevor, as your brother says.

You only stare in annoyance, sure your father was about to raise an army to annihilate the human populace but he didn’t used to be that way.

Before you can retort with a scathing remark of your own, Sypha elbows him harshly in the side. And you know it hurts from the way he immediately puts a hand where she hit him, eyes widening slightly. Serves him right.

“And what of...” Adrian- no Alucard as he wishes to be called, asks, near hesitant.

“Father?” You ask, arms crossed, “Same old same old. Planning the same amount of destruction here or there.”

As he looks to the snow covered earth, you roll your eyes, “Did you expect anything different?”

It’s quiet, and neither Sypha nor Trevor speak.

“No.”

You all sat around camp quietly for a while after that.

-

Your lungs feel like they’re being constricted. Your throat burns as you struggle to breathe, claws digging into your skin like knives. Before you’re thrown backwards, landing harshly against the wall. Books fall from the book case and your weapon clatters noisily from the ground. 

You take shallow breaths, barely standing before you’re thrown once more. Curse your father’s stature and supernatural strength. You close your eyes, waiting for another attack and at least hoping to brace yourself for it, but it never came.

Instead, your brother stands in front of you, as he and your father remain in a standstill. Sypha and Trevor’s footsteps are rushing towards you three. 

It all continues to move so fast, until he stops noticing the painting of your mother, as she had been holding your brother and then you as a baby, and the next thing you know, your father is staked through the heart. And with wobbly legs, you take your sword, and swing. So falls Dracula. But it felt like no victory. 

You sit up with an alarmed look, stopping yourself from shouting.

That was... a dream? You rub your eyes, feeling that your cheeks are wet and you sigh. 

When you see a shadow looming over you, the light of the fire giving slight visibility, you freeze. Before noticing it’s your brother and not his companions. 

“Sorry,” You say, making sure to not look at him, so that he didn’t see your tears. 

Quietly, he places his coat over your shoulders, sitting beside you, wrapping his own blanket loosely around his own shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

You only grip the jacket lapels tighter, shaking slightly as you hiccup, unable to stop yourself from crying again. 

He must think it’s because you miss your mother, and you do. But this dream was far different. And you say nothing as he brings you into his arms. Your tears having long since dried when the sun rises moments later. But you find yourself falling asleep as your brother rubs soothing circles on your back, feeling the build up exhaustion finally leaving you. 

When you’re awake much later in the day you can’t help but laugh a little when Sypha scolds your brother for being mean enough to make you cry, he didn’t you assure her quick enough, although you’re back to laughing when she then turns around to scold Belmont when he makes another slight comment. 

#castlevania netflix x reader #castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #castlevania netflix imagines #mine

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex and jo help their daughter with her homework, they would be kinds cute help them study

cross my heart, hope to die, please stick this pencil in my eye

there’s a reason this took me forever. reason number one, two, and three; proofs. i was unable to write this because of proofs. i got this ask and LIKE A CHILD decided that i wanted to make my fictional characters suffer as much as i did. so once i was done with proofs, i had to write something about proofs, which made me exhausted because i hate even talking about proofs

that made no sense, but here’s this thing that i made. lots of it was my real life monologue, screaming at my computer bc of fucking proofs. enjoy. (also, let’s appreciate the fact that i updated three whole days in a row)

(also, another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much” series, where i name jolex babies after his AHS characters)

Alex Karev sat in the drivers side of his SUV, making a right onto the upcoming street as he listened to the song playing on the radio. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel absentmindedly, pulling up to the curbside of James Madison Middle School, waiting patiently in his seat until he heard the five minute warning bell ring.

When the loud bell goes off, he exits the car and makes his way to the other side, learning against the door so his kids would know it was him. Too many parent’s owned black range rovers, and the last thing Alex needed was for either one of his kids to climb into the back seat of some stranger's car. 

He didn’t need to wait long for children to start piling out of the school in large crowds. Middle school was so different from elementary, for his kids at least. He remembers when they would come sprinting out of the building as if their lives depended on it, but now they just casually strolled, no matter how much they liked or disliked school. 

A few minutes later he catches sight of his daughter, who’s eyes light up when she sees him. He wasn’t supposed to pick them up today, the nanny was. But he had gotten off of work early and had insisted with Jo that he be the one to pick up the kids. It was a task he wished he got to do more often. 

“Hey.” his daughter greets him with a smile on her face. He steps aside and lets her enter the side door, where she flops her black backpack on the floor and settles into the seat, pulling out her phone and begins to start scrolling through it. 

“Dad!” he hears another voice exclaim, quickly tracing it to his son, who was currently running to the car, backpack bouncing up and down behind him. The sixth grader moved across the property quickly, greeting his dad with a fist bump before sliding into the back seat.

He closes both of his kids doors before making his way into the driver's side, revving up the car’s engine before he drives down the long block, whatever music his daughter decided on playing through the radio. 

Alex winces when the music begins to blare through the car, “Brynn, turn that crap down would you?”

Brynn’s face looks scandalized. “It’s not crap. It’s art.” she emphasizes, turning it up even louder and screaming the words. (Poor Brynn couldn’t sing, and she knew it)

“I came in like a wreeckingggg ballll I never hit so harddd in loveeee all i wanted was to break your walls all you ever did wre-e-e-ck meee.” she yells, using her phone as a microphone, hair flying around wildly as she moved up and down, side to side in her seat.  

Alex rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his lips. His wife and daughter were too much alike sometimes. He turns the knob himself, sending his daughter a look, silently telling her not to do it again. 

“I think it’s crap. Just like how I think you sound like a dying cat whenever you sing.” his son pipes in from the back, a signature Karev smirk plastered on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on his phone. 

“Shut up Rory,” she sneers, “Nobody likes you.” 

Rory fakes a laugh, looking back to his phone, and then to the scenery outside his window. They passed house after house until they finally reached their destination, John Quincy Adams Elementary School.

“Wait here,” Alex instructs the two kids, who murmurs their we know’s, more focused on the devices in their hand to the words coming out of his mouth. 

He makes his way to the ‘log cabin’ that sat at the front of the school, giving a friendly smile to the woman sitting at the sign out table, a crappy fold out plastic table that had definitely seen better days. “Faye and Bridgette Karev.” 

The woman slides the forms across the table, handing him a pen. “Sign here and here. I’ll go get them right now.” She stands up from her seat and heads inside to tell the two girls that their father had arrived.

Alex sprawls his messy signature onto the page, huffing before leaning up against the gate. His girls could take anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes to pack up their things. Luckily today didn’t seem to be the latter, because before he knew it, the two youngest Karev’s came bouncing towards him. 

“Daddy!” “Daddy!” 

The seven year olds gave him a large hug, showing him matching toothless smiles. When Jo and him found out that she was pregnant for a third time, they were overjoyed. They had always wanted more than two kids, but hadn’t really been actively trying. They were excited to expand their family of four into a family of five. When they discovered that she was not carrying not one, but two babies, they were shocked. Jo wasn’t expecting to get pregnant at thirty-nine, much less with twins. Brynn was seven at the time, and Rory was five, so they were worried about how their kids would react when they found out two new babies would be joining the Karev household. 

Rory --surprisingly-- took the news really well. He was excited with the fact that he could have baby brothers. (Oh well. Alex Karev only seemed to make girls, Rory being the one exception.) 

Brynn was a bit more reluctant. She had heard from her friends at school how much babies cried and stole all the attention. She loved both her parent’s equally, but she was a Daddy’s girl through and through. The thought of losing both of her parent’s focus was terrifying. What if her Daddy called her new siblings names like Bug or Princess? Those were her names, and her names only. She couldn’t let the new babies steal her names. 

It took a while, but after multiple long talks and countless acts of reassurance, but Brynn eventually came around to the idea. Before they knew it, Brynn was just as excited for the upcoming babies as they were. Jo was worried throughout her whole pregnancy. Since she was almost forty, she was now considered to have a geriatric pregnancy. Just the word ‘geriatric’ did nothing to soothe any woman’s nerves, but add that to the fact that Jo was a surgeon and knew all the risks of pregnancy, and she was practically a mess the first few months. As it turned out, the twins ended up being her easiest pregnancy, since Brynn decided to make her entrance into the world four weeks early and while she was carrying Rory she had the occasional spotting that terrified her to her core every time, worried that she was miscarrying. 

The twins ended up being born at thirty-five weeks, perfectly healthy. The only thing that gave Jo any trouble at all was the severe morning sickness, which turned out to be all day sickness. 

But in the end it was way more than worth it. Faye was pretty much Jo reincarnated, just like Brynn. Every aspect about her was exactly like her mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face shape, chin. The only thing that she inherited was the Karev crooked grin, which all of their children had. (She didn’t even have a big Karev head when she was born!) 

Bridgette on the other hand, was all Alex, except for the eye color. Between her potty mouth, sassy attitude, and overall appearance, she was the female mini evil-spawn. 

The Evil Spawn Jr, title belonged to Rory, who was basically the male version of Bridgette. Same spunk, same mischievous smirk. Jo was always telling him that she didn’t know what she did to deserve three devil’s in her house. Alex always found that one really funny. 

“You guys got everything?” he questions the two, who nod their heads up and down enthusiastically, skipping to the car and greeting their siblings. 

He drives the twenty-five minutes back to his house, the twins chattering about in the back seat. 

“And then Julie showed her her math problems, and I tried to tell her they were wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen!”

“Tommy was sooo annoying. I kept telling him to stop making noises with his pencil, but he just rolled it back and forth so many times!”

Alex laughs under his breath, listening partially to the twins’s conversation. They sounded exactly like how Cristina and Mer used to rant about completely different things to each other, so it never failed to make him think back to the ‘olden days’ as he and Meredith liked to call them. 

If someone were to tell cocky, intern Alex that he would be happily married to the love of his life for (legally) fifteen years, father of four kids, and lived in a house that literally had a white picket fence on the outside of it, he would’ve sent them to a long term psychiatric care facility, because there was no way he would ever have that life. (A life he always secretly wanted, tucked into the very tiniest corner of his brain so it could never venture farther than a fleeting thought here or there). 

“--We’re here,” he calls out, shutting off the engine as he parks in the driveway, the kids unbuckling their seatbelts and scrambling out of the car, eager to escape the confines of the vehicle and enjoy the peace of their rooms. 

Once all five were inside, he watched as the four children parted ways. “Faye, Bridge, you have thirty minutes of reading down here. Ror, you have that history test you need to study for, and Brynn, you know what you need to do.” he says, his two oldest tromping up the stairs as the twins take their place in the living room on separate seats, already engrossed in the books they needed to read as part of their daily homework assignments. 

Alex lets out a tired sigh as he flops onto the couch, more than tempted to grab the remote from the side table and flick on ESPN, but knew that he couldn’t. As much as the girls loved reading, they got distracted from books really easily. Loud horns, cheers, and buzzers wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted any work to get done. Instead, he plucks the iPad from the coffee table, picking up where he left off that morning with an online medical article.

Before he knew it, Faye and Bridgette’s timer had rung out and they started on their math homework on the kitchen island, something that they finished with ease. Another trait Alex was grateful the children inherited from Jo, her smarts. (Specifically in math)

“Ugh!” he hears a loud exclaim from upstairs, causing him to look up from the device in his hands and glance towards the steps, half expecting an angry looking Brynn to come storming out at any moment. He huffs, focusing his attention back to the iPad in hand when no mini Jo comes down. 

“No! There are no other ways!”

Another loud groan of frustration. 

“Son of a butthead! There are NO more ways! None! I don't know how the frick to prove that the freakin angle is congruent!”

Alex debates ignoring it and letting his daughter figure it out on his own, that is until he hears something hit a wall. He quickly makes his way up the stairs and to Brynn’s bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, trying to observe the scene. 

Brynn’s normally pristine room had books scattered on the ground, blankets thrown to the side, and an open notebooks posed at an awkward angle on the floor. 

Well, at least he knew what hit the wall.  

Brynn sat on her bed, literally glaring at her computer screen, partially debating whether or not to throw the expensive device across the room. She didn’t break eye contact, as if she was in a staring contest. Alex wanted to laugh, but he knew a deathly glare would be sent his way if he did. 

He knocks on the wood door, sending a questioning glance Brynn’s way as she finally breaks her stare with the inanimate object. “Everything okay?”

The brunette huffs loudly, bouncing back onto the bed as she lets out a groan. 

“I hate proofs.” she turns her head to look at her dad, Jo’s signature puppy dog face plastered on her features. He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was crazy how much Brynn looked like Jo. Add that onto the fact that she too shared a love for flannels and jeans, she was pretty much what he imagined a fourteen year old Jo to look like. When he first found out that Brynn was going to be a girl, he said to Jo, ‘I’m gonna need a gun.’ 

Luckily, that never happened, partially because of the fact that Alex hated guns and Brynn had yet to have a boyfriend. He was more than thankful for that. Especially since he’d seen couples at Brynn’s school canoodling in what they thought was private, even though they were in full view of everyone. He’d be fine with his not-so-little little girl dating when she was twenty-five, no earlier. Any man before that would not be very fortunate. 

“I’ll help,” Alex says, taking a spot next to her and Brynn begins to show he dad the problems on her screen, going on about how she was struggling to figure it out. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

____

Jo Karev was thrilled when Bailey offered to take over her service for the rest of the day. Her husband had gotten off early, and Bailey knew how much of a struggle it was to spend quality time with family as a surgeon. 

She thanked Bailey so many times she lost count, all while boasting a large smile. She couldn’t remember the last time both she and Alex had been home before five o’clock. All she wanted was to go home, snuggle with her babies, and spend time with her husband. Well, her babies weren’t technically babies anymore, Brynn was fourteen, Rory was nearly twelve, and the twins were seven, but nevertheless, they would always be her babies. (Who cared if Rory was five foot three and already almost as tall as her? He was still such a mommy’s boy.)

She drove home with a smile on her face, humming along to the songs on the radio. She was so happy. She wanted to take her kids in her arms, and watch action movies on the couch while they pigged out on pizza together. 

When she pulls up in the drive she practically bounces up the steps to the house, swinging open the door and dropping her coat carelessly onto the rack. She hadn’t texted Alex to let him know she was coming home early, in hopes to make it a joyful surprise. 

Her heart stopped momentarily at the sound of yelling coming from upstairs. Arguments between Brynn and Alex were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were nasty. Alex always felt like crap for days afterward and Brynn stayed quiet, both at home and at school. 

“Do the reflexive property again!”

“Dad we already did that!”

“Well do it again!”

“Why?!”

“Do you see any other way to do it?”

“How is that going to help!”

“It just is!”

“Dad, we've done the reflexive property five times now!”

“You think I don’t know that!”

“Say that segment DA is congruent to AD.”

“But-”

“There are literally no other fucking ways to do it! It’s fucking shit! Thats what it is!”

“You act as if I didn’t already freakin know that!”

A loud groan. 

“What the fuck even is this one! We’ve managed to do three of them already. Try proving the triangles congruent now. Push random ones, like Side-Angle-Side.” 

“This is crap! ‘You don’t have enough proof to show that the blah blah blah.’ Stupid freaking thing! Freaking worthless!”

Jo is unable to suppress her giggle, clasping a hand over her mouth, trying not to make too much noise. It was a relief to know that the current screaming match going on wasn’t an argument. 

“They’ve been at that for an hour and a half now.” she hears her son pipe in, drawing her attention to where he sat on the couch. 

Jo sets her bag down on the table, greeting her son with a large hug, “Hi bubs.” she mumbles into his hair, feeling his arms wrap back around her. In private, Rory was the biggest cuddler, touchy-feely person you’d ever met, but in front of his friends he tried way too hard to show he was ‘too cool’ for hugging his mom, so Jo took in these moments and held them close to her heart.

“An hour and a half huh?” she chuckles, running a hand through her son’s gelled hair. 

Rory snickers, hazel eyes shining with mischief, “Yeah, dad won’t stop cursing and Tissy just keeps screaming alongside him,” he sits back onto the couch. “I’m surprised neither one of them had lost their voice yet.” he smirks his crooked Karev smirk, focusing his attention on the TV where he had opened up netflix, where he was currently binging Bates Motel. The name ‘Tissy’ came from when he was younger and couldn’t for the life of him say either Brynn nor Sissy. It seemed to have stuck all these years, and he was the only one who ever called his older sister that, even ten years later.

She sees him cringe, “I never called you mother right?” he asks, eyes not leaving the screen, where a certain Norman Bates is practically spooning his own mother in the bed, claiming that he couldn’t sleep. 

Jo snorts, ruffling his hair fondly, “Definitely not. And if you ever do, you’re dead Ror, hear me?”

Rory rolls his eyes playfully, giving his mom a grin. “I won’t. Promise.”

Jo heads up the stairs, the loud yells continuing to echo through the halls, which she chooses to ignore. 

“Dad for the fiftieth freaking time-”

“--What’s going on here?” Jo questions, causing both her husband and daughter to break away their concentration from the computer screen. 

Brynn’s face lights up at the sight of her mom standing in the doorway, more than thankful to have someone who actually knew stuff help her with her math. “Mom!” she exclaims, getting up from her place on the bed to give her mother a hug. 

“Hey baby. Care to explain to me why the second I walk through the door I'm greeted with screaming?” She questions, eyebrows raised as she sees Alex sheepishly avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the pictures that hung on the wall very interesting. 

Brynn smirks, “Well, Dad sucks at math so-”

“--Hey!” Alex interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t done this crap in like thirty years!” He defends himself.

Jo rolls her eyes and smiles of her own gracing her lips as she reaches the bed and takes a look at the problems on the computer. “Proofs?” she asks from confirmation, earning a nod from her husband and daughter. 

She hums, “Given: segment CA bisects angle BAD and segment CA bisects BCD. Prove: triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC.” she murmurs to herself.

The brunette laughs when she sees the fact that the pair had put down some form of the ‘reflexive property’ not one, not two, but seven times.

She grins triumphantly as she remembers how to do the problem, the skills seemingly coming back to her after years of them being dormant. “Next statement is angle BCA is congruent to DCA because…” she scrolls through the possible options the box provided, smirking when she found the right one. “An angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”  

She watches as an angle pops up on the screen, only encouraging her to continue, “Then… angle DAC is congruent to angle BAC because an angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.” 

Another angle comes up. 

“Finally,” she smirks, glancing to the side of for a brief second to take in the draw dropped stares of the two behind her. Brynn was a whiz at math like her mom, but proofs was something she’d been struggling with since they’d started learning them yesterday. Geometry was no joke. Her and her dad had already gotten almost all of the problems done, but it had taken so long to do a few measly problems that they’d lost track of just how long they'd been sitting in the room, arguing back and forth over different possibilities to try. 

“Triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC, reason being Angle-Side-Angle.” 

She grins, wiping her hands together as she hits the submit button, a large green check with a correct! floating on the screen, going over the ways to solve the problem. 

Alex glares at her. He’d been working on these fucking proofs for so long now, and Jo just comes in and completes it in less than a minute?

“I hate you.” he gruffs, still glaring at both his wife and the computer. 

Jo giggles, leaning over and pecking her husband’s lips. “Love you too.” 

She begins to walk out of the room, stopping and calling out over her shoulder as she reaches the doorway, “Now you just need to make sure the twins did their homework!”

#jolex #jo karev #alex karev #jo wilson #jo wilson karev #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #greys #greys anatomy #greys abc #jolex babies #jolex is endgame #au #greys anatomy fanfiction #greys anatomy fanfic #jo x alex #alex x jo #camilla luddington #justin chambers #screw 16x16 #miranda bailey #fucking proofs #geometry #jolex au

[min-youngis]

Pray Tell - k.ji

me, after making my own ugly ass banner, bc it is my own: :DDD

~ Pairing : Kim Jongin x Reader

~ Genre : Fluff, Comfort, Humour, SuggestiVe 

~ Summary : Tired and can't sleep? Show up at your boyfriend's house at night with no warning to receive love, a massage, and then some of this and that.

Established Relationship

~ Word Count : 2,606

~ Warnings : oh boy where to start uhh emotional constipation, shirtlessness, swearing, very suggestive like more than anything i've ever written before if u know me irl pls never talk to me about this we shall simply pretend it does not exist, descriptions of his hands sorry i've been practicing exo simp core for the last few weeks, massage description, innuendos but they're funny i swear, i have a banner draft saved in which the title is holy water, there is nothing explicit but this is scary bc i am: babie, tq that is all

~ A/N : me? getting obsessed with exo and beginning to write for them in the middle of a) my academic calendar and b) the exo drought itself? it's more likely than you think.

the massaging techniques described here are not to be replicated. please do not treat this fic as a horny wikihow article. it is simply a horny fic that is all. 

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist (now with a new category!) in my description.

~~~

The sound of the cab driving away behind you, unceremoniously deposited as you are at the entrance of this imposing building, leaves a hollowness behind, accentuated by the darkness you’re surrounded by.

You hear a couple walk past, catch them giving you a look even as you continue to dawdle outside the apartment. The security guards probably think you’re another stalker, here to camp out for the night, waiting to catch a glimpse of one of the inhabitants.

For the fifth time in as many minutes, you wonder if this is the best course of action. What if he’s busy? What if he’s been practicing the whole day and he’s tired? What if he’s, shockingly enough given the earliness of the hour, asleep?

But traitorously, the weight of your phone in the pocket of your jeans makes itself known with another vibration, and you let yourself recollect all the facts that refute your tiredness- and stress- induced spiral. He’s texting you right now, for one. You had felt like a proper fraud, reading his messages that were coming in rapidly from your notification panel as he went on about what a good day he had, how great it was that it was a Friday and they were getting a weekend off, right as you were in a car on the way over to his place.

You know that if there were a day where you crave some comfort and some warmth, and your body decides to drag itself of its own accord halfway across the city the moment you get home from work, you couldn’t have chosen a better time for it to be happening than now.

But, still.

You’re not sure how to go about this whole selfish-intentioned surprise appearance to his house. Every time you’ve been here so far, you’ve both either arrived together, or he’s been waiting in the lobby to pick you up from the entrance. You doubt the guards are feeling any kinder towards you the longer you spend hovering outside, and a claim of ‘I'm his girlfriend.’ will probably be met with scepticism and a complaint at the nearest police station about a stalker. If they asked Jongin to file a restraining order, he'd do it, too. For shits and giggles.

With a sigh, ignoring the unread messages from him, you walk across to the opposite side of the road, absentmindedly kicking at the wall as you call his number. He’s on his phone, you know that, but it still surprises you a bit when he picks up on the second ring, cheery greeting instant, leaving you with no time to prepare.

You’re pretty sure you would have come up empty, anyway.

“Hey!”

You’re not sure where to start, how to even begin to tell him that you’re outside his house at 10 PM, and you wish there was a script for such situations.

Hi, I’m tired and stressed and the moment I got home, I came here, but now I’m not sure why, so maybe I should just go back and save us both the bother, even though I feel a little bit better already, just after hearing your voice.

Without preamble, throwing caution to the wind, you ask, “Could you pick me up?”

There's shuffling on his end, the sound of blankets rustling, and you think he’s getting out of bed when he replies immediately, “Yeah, sure. Where are you? Are you fine?”

You hear the clang of keys and you desperately wish there was some way to sound less confusing than you do, as you hurriedly tell him to not bother with getting his car.

“Uh, okay. Why don’t you tell me where you are, and I’ll see if it’s a sneakily walkable distance?”

“I’m outside your apartment.”

There’s silence for a second, static crackling, as you semi-consciously pick at your thumb nail, waiting for him to laugh it off as a joke, praying that he laughs it off as a joke, hoping to hear the low rumble of his chuckle so you can pretend the same and just book a cab back home. But then he hums slowly, thoughtfully, before replying, “Okay, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it without a vehicle, but I’ll try.”

You feel the side of your lip quirk up by itself, just a minuscule amount, beyond your control, before you huff in half-hearted amusement, listening as he opens his door. You can imagine him entering the lift, padding around in the corridor in his ridiculously expensive house slippers, slipping into the lobby.

He doesn’t hang up, and the elevator sounds and the polite neighbour greetings give you a pretty good estimate of his progress. You see his blurry shadow behind the frosted glass of the building entrance before you hear him talk to the guards.

From the handset you still have pressed to your ear, you hear his tinny voice ask, “What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Coming,” you mumble shortly, hanging up and crossing the road.

Despite the fact that they’ve got explicit proof that you are, in fact, a legitimate visitor, the guards’ gazes hold lingering distrust, and it’s with an internal sigh of relief that you slip inside the building and out of their eyesight. Or maybe the relief has more to do with present company, who’s to say?

To his credit, Jongin doesn’t say a word. He tries catching your evasive eye, fidgets a bit after he presses the elevator button, but doesn’t ask you what on Earth you’re doing here. The lift is empty but for the two of you, and the moment the doors close, he shuffles a bit closer. Not so much that he invades your personal space but enough to let you know that he’s there, and that he’d appreciate an explanation, if you were up to giving one.

Slowly, not looking at him, you extend your stiff arm to the side, just enough so your pinkie grazes the side of his surprised hand. His muted giggle as you wind your finger around his makes you feel just that little bit better. He relaxes as he gets the cue and engulfs your hand in his large one, warm and comforting and solid, before gently tugging you out once the elevator doors open.

His house always smells the same. Hints of his Ferrari Black perfume, traces of his chocolate flavoured protein powder and just that little tinge of lilac air freshener.

You stop walking somewhere in the middle of the hall, your interlocked hands forcing him to halt as well in his path to the bedroom. He turns around, eyebrow quizzically cocked as he looks at you. For the first time, you look up from your insofar steady gaze at the smooth marble floor and at his face.

Your mouth opens once. And then it shuts. And then it opens again. Suddenly, you’ve remembered all the work you have to do and all the stress induced by that work and paradoxically enough, how that’s the reason you’re here.

It’s like he can tell that you’re working yourself up in your head, and by the time he turns around fully to face you, now very much in your personal space, he’s lost all trace of confusion.

Softly, hand still holding yours firm and keeping you grounded, he asks, “Food, sleep or talk?”

It’s easier to focus on options like these, simpler than trying to organise the multiple to-do lists you’ve got living rent free in your brain, and without much thought, you mumble, “Can we just...chill?”

You know what he’s going to interpret it as before a single word escapes his mouth, and you’re already halfway through an eye roll by the time he begins to reply, eyebrows wiggling ridiculously and stage smoulder set in place that just looks exaggerated in as subdued a setting as this.

“Is that what we're calling it these days?”

You’re the one leading him to the room now, as he easily matches your pace with a single long stride. He sees that you’re a little calmer, pleased that his silly antics have served to at least put you in a headspace that’s almost accepting of peace, and like a fuckboy faux-stretching to put his arm around his dates' shoulder, he fakes a yawn, detaching your interlocked hands and long limbs extending until he’s smoothly gotten you under his left arm, loosely pressed to his side, right as you both enter the room.

It’s contact that you did not know you craved, and you gladly welcome it, shuffling closer and fully prepared to just live there, cozy against his firm chest and his t-shirt that’s become uber-soft from being washed too many times.

It’s short-lived, sadly enough. After indulging you for a few seconds, he pulls away slowly, lowly chuckling as you cling on for a millisecond longer, before nudging you towards the bed.

“Go. I’ll be there in a second.”

Wordlessly, you obey, letting your body flop onto the mattress so you can stare at the ceiling as Jongin rummages around in the bathroom. The dimmed yellow night lights calm you down, and it’s comparatively easier to mute your brain now, body sinking into the comforter that smells like his laundry detergent.

You’ve just about begin to relax, about to say that you could maybe muster up the mental capacity for maybe a low-action movie or TV show, when you hear him call out from the adjoining room.

“T-shirt off, please.”

You don’t realise that your eyes have slipped shut until they jolt open in surprise. You clamber up to a sitting position with an energy you didn’t know you possessed, swiftly turning your head towards the owner of the voice in bemused surprise, just in time to catch the trailing end of a roguish wink before his poked out head pops back out of sight to join the rest of his body in the other room.

Before you can even question the abrupt request, Jongin re-enters. He’s got a bowl in his hand, white and porcelain and whose contents smell like those massage oils he swears by, that he carefully carries in his journey toward you, lightly observing as he places the container on the side table, “You’re still wearing your t-shirt.”

“You're still wearing your t-shirt.”

You aren’t sure where the knee-jerk, childish response comes from, but you can’t complain as you watch him divest himself of the offending article of clothing, impish grin popping into view once he’s done, black fabric bundled and nonchalantly tossed onto the armchair in the corner of the room.

“Your turn.”

You tear your eyes away from his torso at his teasing voice with more than a little difficulty. There’s a shift in the air and challenge in his gaze, and maybe this was his plan all along. Smart man.

Focus trained on him, chin up in a confidence you would not have been capable of ten minutes ago, you mimic his motions, and just for the heck of it, neatly fold the garment in your hands before setting it on the far corner of the bed.

It gives you something to do with your hands, and they’re definitely itching.

You look back up at his patient face when you’re done, refusing to get distracted by everything else that he definitely wants you to get distracted by, distantly pleased when you see his eyes flick up to your face. If there’s a massage on the agenda, you’re going to get it, goddammit.

“What are you doing all the way over there?”

His lips quirk up further at your recycled statement, repeated from what feels like ages ago. He picks up the bowl he had sat down while saying, “Lie on the bed, face down.”

You resist the urge to snort at his smug grin, both of you sharing a second of amused eye contact at the continuous innuendos, before you do as instructed, crawling up the bed and flipping around until your chin is resting on your forearms cushioned by the pillows right in front of the headrest. Somehow, you manage to feel simultaneously half-asleep and hyper-aware.

The bed dips to your right, his movements graceful, dancer limbs elegant, even as he’s climbing onto a bouncy mattress while balancing a bowl of oil, and he settles on his knees near the small of your back.

There’s silence for a moment, before his phone lands a few feet from your face, bouncing once and landing face down, and now there are slow, deep beats filling the room, The Weeknd crooning smoothly and making you slip deeper. Shit, he’s good.

Your hum of approval is accompanied by you sinking in further to the mattress, and bedding rustling next to you as Jongin moves closer, the fabric of his pyjama pants now brushing gently against the side of your waist.

“Is this...the treatment you give all your customers?” you ask, breath slightly hitching as you feel a large palm settle on the small of your back, gently tracing upward to fiddle for a second with the hook in your bra before undoing it.

“Definitely not. They get flowers and bathrobes and choice of fragrance. And I get paid.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to retort, teasingly poking at the flesh on the side of your waist, making you weakly giggle at the ticklish sensation, before placing his permanently warm, and now oily, hands at the base of your spine, gently sliding up, applying just the slightest hint of pressure.

You'd be embarrassed about the sigh you let out just then, but you’re too far gone to care. You let yourself relax under his tenderly firm ministrations, feeling his palms glide up and down your back as he spreads the oil around, rubbing it in. With the slow music in the background and the dim lighting in the room, there isn’t much to keep you from slipping into a zoned-out, dreamy haze.

An indeterminate amount of time passes like this before you sleepily begin to mumble, head ducking to burrow into the soft pillows as Jongin moves to the sides of your neck, long fingers more effective than any massager. “If you weren’t a dancer, you could have become a very successful masseur, I think.”

You feel his chuckle in your bones, as he momentarily bends at the waist, gentle kiss pressed against the skin right in between your shoulder blades, a direct contrast to the warmth his body emanates against your pampered back, brief contact swiftly snatched away as he straightens up and continues pressing his thumb against the bottom of your neck.

Preening at the affection, you continue, “Magic in those fingers, that’s what you have.”

Said fingers move down until they’re at the base of your spine, large palms spread out in opposite directions and spanning your back, ends curled possessively around the curve of your hips.

“They’re good at other things, too,” he says, tone low and no longer as teasing as it was, hands slipping dangerously low and index finger dipping into the waistband of your pants.

Suddenly, you’re wide awake.

Head slowly coming up, you rest your chin once more on folded arms, settling as much as you can with a finger running absent circles on the base of your hips.

“Pray tell.”

~

#exo #thekpopnetwork #kwritersworldnet #ultkpop #kai #kim jongin #kim kai #superm #fluff #humour #suggestive #kpop imagine #exo imagine #superm imagine #kai imagine #kpop fluff #exo fluff #superm fluff #kai fluff #kpop smut #exo smut #superm smut #kai smut #jongin fluff #jongin imagine #jongin smut #sm entertainment #massage

[unholyplumpprincess]

Breathing Exercises

Lil Caustic thing for a text post that said smth along the lines of “Wrap your hands around my throat and choke me until I can’t breathe and whisper ‘Cum if you want to breathe’.” And well damn if that didn’t inspire me for him. This is also totally a quiet present for @soulheartthewolf bc that’s Caustic’s spouse.

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D

!!!18+ only. Minors and ageless blogs dni or you’ll be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Caustic/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral but has a vulva, choking/asphyxiation, breath play, mentions of other kinks such as breeding kinks and deep throat training, also mentions of Caustic’s sex repulsion and erectile dysfunction bc listen man it happens and soft dicks are cute.

Words: 1.4k

_____________

Alexander loved to test limits.  

Even more so- he loved to test your limits.  

When times his sex repulsion and love of his work did not blind him to carnal urges, you were more than a willing subject in whatever sort of experimentation he wanted to conduct. Aphrodisiac gas tests had been one of many things you had been subjected to, then testing how big an object you could deep throat and training you to take longer and longer until you were so out of it in sub space you nearly forgot to breathe. Or to more things along the lines of him seeing how much cum you could hold just for him, plugged up in you with a cute little plug and his promises of filling you with more after he’s rested.  

Yes, you were more than willing to experiment any of these limits.  

~Rest under the cut~

It also went into testing his own limits. Alexander lacked that sort of empathy one might have for if you were crying or sobbing. Of course, you two had safe words and safe signals for this sort of play, but there was something a little more...exciting knowing that you could kick, whine, sob, and he would just blink at you with acidic green eyes and not even flinch.  

Today? Today is not a repulsion day. You know this when you feel a gloved hand grip your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze as you work at your computer to get the editing of the games done. You watch him pass by you, his arms tucked behind his back, and watch one finger make a quick gesture of ‘Come here’.  

Editing could wait.    

You’re up and following him instantly, more than curious of the plan. Alexander was always straight forward on explanations, no beating around the bush, so you had time to ask questions or say your own peace about if it was something you wanted to do.  

When you enter his bedroom, everything is normally methodically laid out on the bed, but all you can see is a bottle of lube. Curious at such a basic set up, you glance at him and find he is already ready to explain himself.  

Breath play. Asphyxiation. And control all involved. Alexander explains it as if he’s discussing anything scientific. “It shall merely be a test of your lungs. If bruising is to occur, I shall take fault and ensure you are safely healed before your departure to your quarters.” He’d explained coolly, making a small gesture of his hand at his throat when he mentions bruising. You try not to squirm at the idea of him grabbing you so hard you bruise, but you must because the corners of his lips twitch in amusement.  

“Sounds fun.” You manage to breathe out as professionally as you possibly can in a scenario like this. And when he gestures for your clothing to be taken off, you oblige.  

--  

By the time you’re thoroughly stretched and prepped, Alexander is already half hard. With older age and the size of his dick, you’d call that an impressive feat as is. Even then, the fact that he’s not fully hard makes it easier for him to squeeze inside of you without too much pinching.  

The first few thrusts make you whine, curling your fingers into the sheets and tossing your head to the side. You breathe out a few noises, hitching your leg around his hip to draw him closer. Alexander, despite what everyone thought would be cruel hearted and callous in a relationship, doesn’t make you feel unwanted. Especially now. Resting a large, calloused hand over your thigh to draw you closer, his other resting by your head and you take the opportunity to turn your head to press a chaste kiss to his wrist.  

“If you are trying to delay this endeavor, it is working.” Alexander says, his voice low and gruff with pleasure and only the tiniest bit playful. You grin brightly, turning your head and your lips falling into a gasp when his hand drops to your cunt. Pressing on your mound and using two fingers to rub your clit.  

“Fuck- no-  ah - wouldn't...wouldn’t dream of it-” You whimper out, dropping your leg from his waist to thrust your hips up once to get closer to the pressure and angle him just right against your g-spot.  

That’s when the hand that had been so deliciously rubbing your clit comes right back up with his other hand, both hands wrapping around your throat but his hips never stilling.  

Your eyes widen, having not prepared with a breath and you expect that’s what he wanted. Your hand flies up to grab his wrist, a noise wheezing from your nose as you feel his fingers press on either side of your throat. Alexander stays like that a few moments, undoubtedly feeling your inner walls clamping and fluttering in time with your struggles, before easing his grip.  

You suck in a deep breath, a whine exhaling from your lungs as your hands fly down to grab his ass. You delight in the way Alexander makes a gasp sound at the motion when you tug him again but this time you whine out, “Roll over, I know your knees are going to be killing you.” Despite your lungs still aching for air.  

There’s a grumble of him telling you not to order him, but he obeys regardless. Adjusting to lie back on his back with relief flashing in his eyes, only for his tight facial expression to melt into pleasure when you grab his cock and guide him back into you with a sigh.  

From this angle, his grip on your throat feels purposeful. You ride him still as best as you can until your vision starts to dot and you hold still, feeling him vaguely fucking up into you like a starved beast. Again, you’re released once your eyes start to roll back into your head, and once again your lungs ache with every breath.  

It isn’t until you get close  does  he  grip  and not let go despite your whines and the smacking of his chest. You’re grinding in his lap, your thigh muscles twitching and your nails sinking into his chest with each claw. But all he simply growls out is, “Cum if you want to breathe, little rabbit.”  

Your vision is dotting, your hips start to move more frantically, grinding yourself down onto his cock as your lips part but nothing goes into your lungs. Your entire body is trembling and you know your face must be purple by now, but as soon as your inner walls start to clench and you feel the heat slam down of your orgasm, that’s when you feel him let go.  

The pleasure of your orgasm plus the relief of air flooding your lungs is too much. Tears stream down your face and you aren’t sure what your body is doing until you feel Alexander grabbing your hips and forcing you to fuck yourself onto him. You sob out, overstimulated and shaking your head, hands coming down to try and push weakly at his chest despite how hard your own chest hurts from trying to take in air.  

When Alexander cums, his hands clamp down hard on your hips. Squeezing you tight and making sure you hold still to take every drop. He’s not very loud when he cums, only a shaky grunt at first before his head falls back and you can see his brow furrow and his lips set into a tight line.  

When he finishes, you whine and flop on top of him, pressing your face into his neck despite the heat. You’re grateful when his hands start moving up and down your back, gently stroking to ease you undoubtedly.  

“You have bruises on your neck.” He murmurs, turning his head so you can hear him. You think the way his chest vibrates with the thickness of his voice is soothing. You hum in turn, making a sound to tell him it’s no big deal.  

“Get up. I will tend to you.” He tries again, only making you whine louder and push your weight harder on top of him despite knowing he could just push you off. Instead, he pretends he is trapped, groaning lightly under you. “I do not cuddle.”  

“Tough luck, doc, you’re a cuddler tonight.” You grumble back in his neck, adjusting your hips so his cock could act as a plug fuller in you. The resulting grunt you take as a grunt of defeat.  

Yeah maybe you’ll wear these bruises for fun.  

#Caustic #Caustic x reader #apex legends #Apex lemons #nsft #lemon #princess writing

[willowistic22]

Hey :)

For your post concerning Ikeshot - would you maybe consider writing an Ikeshot Soulmate AU during the canon era?

Thanks in advance

left this in my drafts for the whole month bcs i was doing no content november which was definitely not used as an excuse of me not wanting to fight off my writers block heheheheheheheh spoiler alert : it was. but i got around to write this one so i hope it suffice! i mean i hope so bcs it ended up being 2.5k words long lol! 

So pls enjoy my canon era ikeshot soulmate au! the concept is where soulmate marks are in the form of the first things your soulmate says to you when you guys meet. also ik this will kinda flop since it’s a rarepair but pls do your best to not let it flop :) 

Ike doesn’t like the thought of soulmates. Not one bit. Well, at first he liked the idea of having someone out there waiting for him. He doesn’t need a mark of any kind to tell him that. He knows it on his own terms. But there was a little bit of excitement that exploded in his stomach when his soulmate mark appeared on his forearm. And it was… weird to say the least. 

He got his mark a year earlier than his twin brother, right on their 13th birthday. A delicate black writing engraved in the skin of his forearm. The soulmate mark stories he has ever heard were about people with sweet sayings engraved in their skin. It was all romantic, innocent, and soft spoken words tread lightly by the lips of their lover to be. But Ike’s? It was downright strange. None of those sappy and sweet stuff people say when the subject is about soulmates. Which is why Ike never bothered showing it off. He has heard enough jokes from Mike about that text. 

And here’s the kicker for his situation: despite getting his soulmate mark a year earlier, Mike was somehow granted the gift of getting a sweet soulmate line and meeting his soulmate first! That really pissed Ike off. 

He’s left with his thoughts on that subject this evening, carefully holding up his forearm while he lies on the top bunk he and his brother call their own. The words on his forearm echoes inside of his brain as he strokes the ink on his skin, blocking out the loud Lower Manhattan lodging house. He’s bound to meet his soulmate eventually. He’s sixteen for crying out loud! Mike met his when they were fifteen. So this mysterious soulmate of his has to turn up any time now. They have to. Ike doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself entertained with stringless flings and flirtings with random guys in secret. 

Ike sighs desperately, dropping both his arms above his head and onto his thin pillow. He wished he was tired enough to go to sleep already since he doesn’t have anything to do before the lights go out in the lodge. He peaks down towards the lower bunk. Ike sees his brother fast asleep, cuddled into his lover’s embrace. Two chests, rising and falling at their own different slow pace. 

It’s not that Ike ever had a problem with Mike’s soulmate, the only problem is that Ike hasn’t met his and constantly feels lonely with the presence of the couple. Ike didn’t believe his brother when he said his soulmate turned out to be Jo Jo. Not only is Jo Jo practically a total opposite of Mike, Jo Jo is also out of his league. There’s no way a kind hearted, properly brought up, bright smiled boy would end up with a scruffy idiot like his brother. But the more time he spends with the two, the more he sees how compatible they are with each other. 

Ike is happy that they found someone to make each other happy, even in their sleep. He’s just sad for himself that he hasn’t found the one for him yet. Third wheeling is the worst thing Ike has ever discovered in his life. 

He sits back up properly, letting both legs dangle freely down the bunk. Ike puts on his newsie cap and his vest that was left hanging on the bedpost before jumping down the bunk. 

Unfortunately he wasn’t being careful and accidentally woke someone below him from the loud thud his feet made when it came in contact with the old wooden floor of the lodge. 

“Where are you… going?” a voice groaned.

Ike turns his head towards the lower bunk to see Mike lifting his head up slightly from where it was resting, rubbing his eyes a little bit to enhance his vision. He’d sit up straight, but one of his hands is strapped down to the mattress by a certain head full of brown curls. 

“Not tired yet. Think I’ll get myself busy” Ike replied. Before turning back to his original direction, he catches his brother’s eyes before he lets himself fall back asleep again, “Got a pack?” 

Mike snorts to himself with an eye roll, but it ends with a low chuckle. He gestures his head towards his vest left hanging up high on the bedpost, “Check my vest. I’se think there’s still half in there” 

Untangling the vest from itself, Ike sees one of its pockets forming a rectangular shape through the fabric. He slips his hand in it and fishes out a pack of cigarettes. His hand doesn’t feel the usual light weight of the tiny box he usually feels after getting himself a fresh pack. This one feels so much lighter, like there’s a lot of room in it. But Ike could still feel a few stems moving inside. 

“Don’t finish the whole thing” Mike added. 

Ike simply smirks down at him, turning around with the pack in hand. He calls out, “No promises!” 

“Pay me back if you do finish it!” 

“Also no promises!” 

“Little shitter” 

Ike turns his head around, and an offended look on his face as the twins’ old inside joke has resurfaced from the past. In the calmest way possible, yet still obviously annoyed, Ike voices out, “Fuck off, alright?” 

“No promises!” 

Mike laughs at his brother’s obvious annoyance. At the same time, Jo Jo starts to stir in his sleep. He stops laughing, directing his full focus on the boy shifting in his arms. Jo Jo groans as he flips to face away from Mike, letting out a long and peaceful sigh once he gets comfortable. 

Ike watches as his brother lays back down, holding Jo Jo a little tighter than before. The couple is enveloped back by their slumber just like before. 

There’s that jealousy resurfacing in Ike’s heart as his eyes linger at the sight of the lower bunk. But despite it, he is actually happy to see Mike like this. Being happy with his soulmate doing whatever. It’s a different kind of happy. It’s the kind that Ike longs for. 

He pushes that thought away for a while, walking through the loud lodging house. Some newsies went to sleep earlier, somehow being able to ignore all the commotion caused by their friends. Some are also just hanging out with others while they wait for the lights to go out. 

Ike chooses to be alone this evening. Accompanied by a cigarette or two, and maybe his own thoughts he’d like to sort out. He’d walk out the front door downstairs to smoke in an alleyway, but he knows the downstairs are currently occupied. Jack had warned everyone to avoid going downstairs because the borough leaders are having a little meeting. 

So Ike decides on the fire escape, since it already leads directly to the alleyway. Ike slips out the window, instantly noticing the lovely evening air. His only view is a dull brick wall with trash scattered around the ground, but he doesn’t really mind as the street ambience makes him feel less lonely. 

He notes the fire escape being a little wet, since it previously did rain a bit. He nearly slipped when he first stepped on the metal bars, but was able to balance himself pretty quickly. 

But to no avail, his feet clumsily slips away from their grip on the fire escape. It sends him falling down with a loud yelp, passing through the little gap in the fencing reserved for the ladder and onto the concrete floor in the dirty alleyway. 

Ike was disoriented when he rose back up from his fall. One hand on the ground to help support his back as he recovers from the impact, and the other rubbing the pain on his head away. He realized the pack of cigarettes is long gone. What he doesn’t realize is why the fall isn’t as painful as he thought it would be. 

He glances over to his legs, which he realized just now that it was tangled with something else. Someone else. They were groaning in pain as they rose back up. He catches a glimpse of the face once it was finally lifted off the ground, smudge by a little bit of mud. 

Oh shit.

Ike fell on another boy who obviously looks like he’s twice his own size. Not that he thinks he can’t take him on in a fight if he asks for one, but right now he’s too disoriented to even figure out how to punch straight. He quickly gets up on his feet, giving the stranger some space so he can recollect himself. 

“Oh look, the universe has thrown me a little shitter from the sky to ruin the rest of my already shitty day! Is there anything you can possibly do to magically make it better?!”

The words were uttered as the stranger got back up on his feet, revealing himself to be a tall and muscled figure. The mud also got on a little strand of his dark brown hair and his eyes were squinted with fury. But Ike wasn’t focused on any physical features this stranger has. He’s more focused with the words that he uttered. Words that Ike knows by heart by now. 

“What?” The stranger growled, deep and raspy. He realized the boy was astonished by something, but was certain it isn’t in any form of fear. 

“Do you have any idea how much shit I get with that written on my hand?! It made me look like I’m a fuckin’ dumbass my whole life!” Ike started his little rant, a little bit of rage building up from the pits of his stomach, “Oh, but of course I’se stuck with a huge asshole that doesn’t know how to be a decent human being and give a guy a break!” 

The stranger stays completely still, lips slightly parted. 

“How do you think I feel with that?” 

He shows his soulmate mark on his right forearm to Ike. A smaller font size and a longer paragraph written on his skin. Ike almost wanted to laugh. 

“Hey!” 

The two boys turn their attention towards the sound. Just outside the alleyway, right on the sidewalk where the rest of the world is, three tall men stood. There isn’t enough light for either boys to identify who they are, but given from the vague shadow they can sense trouble. 

As the three men take a few steps closer, letting a little lamp stuck to the wall illuminate their figures, they reveal themselves as the bulls. 

The boys activated their flight instinct, running towards the other end of the alleyway. The bulls chased after them while telling them to stop. Ike, being the smaller one, runs ahead and leads the chase. Hopping from one sidewalk to the other, crossing the roads without looking. 

Jacobi’s deli came into view in the corner of the block, despite being unlit. Ike kept running towards that corner and took a sharp turn. He makes another sharp turn towards an alley, just next to the deli. He hides in a little corner the deli has created. He has gotten away from so many troubles by hiding in this ‘wall bump’ because people miss it easily. 

He was surprised to see a large figure stopping right next to where Ike was hiding, huffing out heavy breaths of exhaustion. Ike said nothing at first, thinking it’s one of the bulls. He simply watches the figure hunching over their knees, trying to recollect themselves from the chase. 

But after a few seconds, he realizes it was the same boy he just met at the alleyway. His soulmate. To that, he widens his eyes and gasps under his breath. 

Oh crap, if he keeps on standin’ there we’ll get caught! 

“Hey!” Ike whisper shouted. 

The boy was still disoriented from all that running, but he was still able to pick up the voice. 

He saw Ike hiding in the corner, but didn’t think much of it. To that, the smaller boy just rolled his eyes and grabbed him by his suspenders to pull him to the little corner to hide together. 

Ike peaked behind the little wall hiding them to see if the bulls that were chasing them had passed. Just as he suspected, they were clueless as to where they could be. The bulls went past the alleyway. Until Ike was sure that they’re gone, he lets out a relieved sigh and turns back to where he is.

He was surprised to be met by a chest, but soon remembered that he had another boy hiding with him. A very tall one. 

Ike looks up to his face. The details are much clearer now. Brown locks, strong jawline, brown eyes, ivory tinted face with a few smudges of ash and dirt. The face sculptured... so perfectly. 

Ike only realized this now. Staring up at it, taking in every detail before him. Cheeks a little heated up when his head realizes how close they’re being. Chest to chest and Ike is up against a wall. 

And the other boy… he stared back. Just as frozen and shocked as he is. 

“I-I didn’t catch your name earlier” Ike mustered up the last bit of concentration to get that out. 

“My friends call me Hotshot” 

“Hotshot…” Ike repeated, nodding along without getting his eyes off of him. 

“But… you can call me Tyler. Y-y’know if you… wanna use my real name” Hotshot said with a little awkward cough at the end. 

“Oh…”

Ike has no idea what’s happening right now. All he knows is there’s a cute guy right in front of his nose, who is his so called soulmate. They’re hiding in an alleyway, and neither seems to want to move away. They were both caught off guard by the beauty their eyes are being presented with in front of them. 

“I-I’m Ike, by the way…” Ike added on, realizing he hasn’t said his name yet, “It’s short for Isaac. Y’know, ‘cause my twin brother calls himself Mike and we wanted to-- y’know what? That’s too long to get into…” 

The two share a heartfelt laughter. Their hearts pumping faster than before, the other being able to feel it right through their chest. 

“So uhh… Ike…” Hotshot started, still staring down at the smaller boy, “About what I said earlier…” 

Ike started to laugh, remembering what he meant. 

“I’s want to apologize… is all” 

“Y-yeah, the same goes for me!” Ike added, “Well, I don’t know if we should even apologize. We were supposed to say that to each other anyways!” 

Another heartfelt laughter, sounding softer than the first one. It somehow made the moment even more serious as it slowly died down. Their gaze hasn’t left the other’s. Nor, does it seem like they want to in the first place. 

“Ike, can I… try somethin’?” Hotshot suddenly asked. 

Ike simply nods, not having any clue as to what he meant. The message behind that was soon cleared the moment Hotshot softly crashed his lips against his, pushing his head backwards and gently pinning it to the wall behind him. Ike moves his hands up to pull him by his suspenders. Hotshot brushes his finger on his jaw, angling him up for a better kiss. Their lips moved in sync perfectly and it felt good. Just like how they would picture a first kiss shared by a soulmate. 

#newsies #drabble requests #ikeshot #ikeshot newsies #ike newsies #hotshot newsies #tw cursing #tw smoking #tw implied violence #tw light injury