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wlntrsldler · 1 month

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poisoned mercury | check yes, juliet

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over halfway finished! i'll be posting poisoned mercury playlists soon! pls continue to send me songs that remind you of this series. i'm running out of songs to use as titles. thank u for all the love on this fic <3

series masterlist | previous | next

vi. check yes, juliet by we the kings

“where are we going?”

“are you going to ask that every two seconds?”

“you kidnapped me, castellan.”

luke stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at you. you were about a quarter mile away from camp now, and it seemed like every ten steps, you asked him the same question. if he didn’t find you so cute, he would turn around and walk straight back to camp.

“i will throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way there, five star,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes teasingly. he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but by the look on your face, you certainly were. “don’t test me.”

“and i will scream bloody murder if you do,” you narrowed your eyes at him in a challenging manner.

“here i am, trying to do something nice for you and you accuse me of kidnapping you,” luke continued his steps, slowing down to let you catch up to him. he didn’t realize how much shorter you were than him. the top of your head just went past his shoulders, but your personality made up for the difference. “we’re almost there, keep up.”

“not everyone has long legs, castellan,” you huffed, increasing your pace. “slow down.”

“do you want to get there or not?” he asked, throwing you a teasing smile over his shoulder. you guys really needed to get there soon. the sun was beginning to set and he didn’t want you to have to walk in the dark, even if he was with you. your safety came first, above everything, and he wasn’t gonna put you in a potentially dangerous situation.

you whined, tugging on the side of his t-shirt, “how much longer?”

“that’s it,” luke declared, squatting down to throw you over his shoulder. you squealed, hitting his back with your balled up fists. he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him. he can feel you pulling your punches.

you felt the vibrations from his laughter on his back. luke was enjoying this too much. he carried you over his shoulder like it was nothing. perhaps all those morning workouts were paying off. you twisted your neck to scold him, thankful that he couldn’t see the smile on your lips, “put me down, i swear to god.”

“nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ he tapped your calf with his fingers, “it’s just around the corner.”

luke put you down in front of a building. there were five store fronts, three of which had faulty neon lights. you could barely make out the store names. the other two stores had signs up declaring vacancy. it was a little sketchy, but luke seemed to love it. he had his hands on his hips, staring up at the sign that seemed to say “achilles arcade.”

“what is this place?” luke held the door open for you as you wandered inside the store. the place was dimly lit with old-school arcade games lining the walls. an old man was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the morning paper.

“just wait,” luke grinned, pulling on your hand to lead you to get some tokens, “chiron! my man.”

the man placed the newspaper on the surface, eyes lighting up at the sound of luke’s voice. he beamed, “luke castellan! i was afraid you weren’t gonna come back.”

“you know i keep my promises,” luke let go of your hand, introducing you to chiron, “chiron, this is yn. she goes to camp with me.”

“pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head, reaching under the counter to dig out a bucket full of golden tokens.

you took out your wallet, “how much do we owe you?”

“on the house,” he waved off, “he donated a ridiculous sum of money to keep this place up and running. too generous, this one, so it wouldn’t be right for me to charge you when he’s keeping me in business.”

luke shook his head, sliding a hundred across the counter anyway. he took your wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket, knowing that you’ll probably try to slip him some cash if he didn’t. you grumbled, but decided not to pick a fight. it didn’t seem like one you’d win.

luke grabbed the bucket by the handle and turned to you, “where do you want to start, five star?”

“you took me to an arcade?”

“yeah,” luke said, sheepishly, “whenever i run out of cigs, i always go to an arcade to keep my mind off things. it’s childish, but it works. figured you could try it. plus, there’s a smoke shop across the street so we can go there when we’re done here.”

“only one thing is better than the feeling of a new cherry ice vape,” you got close to him, nearly toe to toe. luke could smell the perfume on your skin, the scent of your shampoo, and his cologne that lingered on the hoodie of his that you wore. he reminded you that you always got cold and that you should bring a sweater, but you assured him that you wouldn’t. halfway to the arcade, you were shivering and luke knew that he made the right decision bringing his hoodie with him.

you rolled your eyes, but accepted it. his hoodie stopped mid-thigh and engulfed you, but it looked better on you than it ever did on him. something about you wearing a hoodie that had his band name on it made his heart skip a beat. he had to listen to you make fun of him for tripping over air after he saw you in his clothes, but he didn’t expect anything less from you.

he licked his lips, eyes darting to your own, “and what is that, five star?”

“beating your ass at galaga.”

luke’s laughter echoed throughout the empty arcade as you ran from him with the tokens in your hand. you looked back at him with a mischievous smile on your face and he felt his heartstrings tug in his chest. you stuck your tongue out at him, starting the game as he stayed in his spot, admiring you.

there weren’t many moments where he could be out in public like this, so when his mom reluctantly agreed to stop at this building on the way to camp due to a flat tire, luke and the boys were ecstatic to find that there was an empty arcade hidden in montauk. luke talked to chiron and learned his story while the boys played random games to kill the time. luke found out that the arcade wasn’t doing well financially with the increase in rent prices and that they would have to close down at the end of the summer if things don’t pick up again. chiron mentioned that he and his partner started this business twenty years ago, and he was sad to see it go.

luke excused himself and snuck back into the tour bus to grab his checkbook. he wrote a check that covered rent and other expenses for the year and gave it to chiron. of course the man refused it, but luke wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after chiron shared that the arcade was the last living piece of his partner. luke castellan was a hopeless romantic, which not many people knew. he knew he was done for the minute he heard their love story.

he stood there for a few moments, watching as you cheered, dodging the blasts of your enemies. you were so animated while you played, so expressive with your eyes and your voice. he’d only seen you like this a handful of times, talking to clarisse about god knows what, talking to the younger campers and asking them questions about their projects and interests, and when you asked him about his music. all of your monotoned replies and deadpan looks were all he got for the longest time, it seemed like your nonchalance was only for him, so it was nice to see you like this. it felt like you were warming up to him.

he thought about the talk the two of you had in your room, how different you’d been then. after being iced out for weeks, luke was a little shocked at how soft you were with him earlier, playing with his rings, holding his hand, talking to him. it was a welcomed surprise, of course, but he expected you to kick him to the curb. he still didn’t understand what actually happened after the concert, but he figured you already had a tough day, so that conversation can wait.

he made his way to you, leaning across the screen to slightly block your view, “you might be better than me at this game, but your ass is mine at guitar hero.”

“not fair,” you were focused on the game, eyes glued on the screen in front of you. “you’re in a band. of course you’re gonna be better than me at that.”

“life’s not fair, five star,” luke poked your side, making you squirm. you died in the game because of it. “my turn, yeah?”

you shoved his chest, reluctantly moving over. “you cheated.”

he looked over his shoulder, smirking, “how did i cheat?”

“you distracted me!”

“i did not!” he argued, chuckles escaping his lips. his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. his concentration face was annoyingly attractive.

“did too,” you mumbled, watching over his shoulder to see how he was doing. he was doing really well. damn teenage boys and their affinity for video games. your chin rested comfortably on his shoulder blade as you watched him play.

luke’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly too aware that you were so close to him. he could feel your breath against the nape of his neck, your lips dangerously close to where his tattoo was. he snuck a glance at you, noting how you were too focused on his score inching closer to your own.

“ha!” you yelled, pulling away from him. you bumped his hip with yours, moving him out of the way, “my turn.”

“okay, you cheated.”

you hit pause on the game, placing your hands on your waist, “how?”

“you were distracting me! putting your head on my shoulder and shit.”

“awww,” you cooed, playfulness in your tone, “do i make you nervous?”

luke’s face flushed. he shook his head, tilting his head down to hide the color on his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, “play your fucking game.”

you said something about him being a sore loser and cheered loudly when you beat his score. when you both ran out of lives, luke led you to guitar hero and as expected, kicked your ass at the game. the two of you played in the arcade until there was one golden token left in the bottom of the bucket. as you wandered around the room, your eyes landed on a black and white photobooth tucked away in the corner.

“let’s take some pictures,” you grabbed his hand, leading him over there before he could say no. you shoved him inside the photobooth, tapping his knee to make him stop manspreading on the small bench.

it could barely fit two people so it was a tight squeeze. you were sitting so close to luke, thighs pressed together as you tapped on the small screen to begin the process. luke could feel the warmth of your skin against his and he was glad that there was no colored photos option because his cheeks were bright red. maybe he can blame the lights making him feel hot if you brought it up, but he wasn’t sure if his voice even worked enough to utter out his excuse.

“you better smile, castellan,” you threatened, turning to look at him before you inserted the token in the slot. “not that little side smirk shit that you do in all your pictures.”

“what side smirk?”

“that thing you do in your pictures!” you shouted, “in every single instagram post, you always do it.”

luke raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, “you’ve stalked my instagram?”

“not the point,” you ducked, pretending to mess with the settings of the photobooth. luke can see your shy smile on the screen in front of him. “i’m just saying, smile normally.”

“that’s how i smile, five star! what do you want me to do?”

“that is not how you smile!” you argued. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you faced him. he was already looking at you, soft eyes and a hint of a smile on his features. a stray curl was out of place on his head and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over to put it back in place. luke held his breath as your fingers grazed the side of his face, taking much longer than you needed to fix his hair. your thumb subconsciously rubbed against the scar on his cheek. luke let his eyes close at the feeling.

“there,” you whispered, pulling your hand back to your side. “that’s how you smile.”

he tried his best to keep that same expression on his face to see what you were talking about. he glanced at the screen and found himself stunned at what he found. you were right. this is not how he looked in his instagram pictures. he almost didn’t recognize himself as he stared. he looked different like this.

there were no creases between his eyebrows or on his forehead, like there was no stress on his shoulders. his eyes looked brighter somehow as if he was at peace, exactly where he needed to be at that moment. his lips were quirked up in a tender smile, parts of his teeth showing between the gap of his top lip and bottom lip. did he always look like this when he was with you? awe-struck and enraptured by your presence?

he should feel pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when you were looking at him like you enjoyed this clandestine look on his face, a look that he reserved only for you. he couldn’t feel pathetic when you were looking at him in the same way. a secret language between the two of you, that nobody else in the world could even begin to understand.

the countdown on the screen started and luke was pulled from his thoughts quickly when you pressed your cheek against his, grinning as the timer flashed across the screen. he let himself smile, teeth on full display before the flash went off. the second countdown began and luke watched you fumble around to pick the next pose. you settled on a silly pose, sticking your tongue out as you held up the ‘rock and roll’ sign with your hand. he followed your lead, letting a snicker leave his lips at how fitting the pose was.

the final photo was uncoordinated. luke wasn’t ready for the flash to go off. you placed your hand on his shoulder, craning your neck to look up at him. if he leaned down an inch or two, his lips would touch yours. the realization had the wires in his brain crossed. when the machine took the picture, luke was staring lovingly into your eyes, a look of indecision on his face. his lips were curled into a bashful smile, the tip of his nose touching yours.

“five star,” luke breathed out, his arm snaking around your waist. your leg was now placed on top of his own.

you gulped, nudging his nose with yours, “luke…”

he’d never heard his name leave your lips before other than when you were mocking the gossips you heard about him. he’d never heard your real voice call him by his name. now that he has, he was addicted to the sound of it. he never liked his name that much, but somehow, when you said it, it sounded like poetry. he never thought a single syllable could sound so beautiful, have his knees buckling at the utterance of it. but with you, he supposed there was always a first for everything.

when the bright red words stating “your photos are ready!” illuminated the inside of the photobooth, the two of you jumped apart from each other, blushing wildly. luke took a moment for himself inside the photobooth, rubbing his face with his palms, as you walked out to retrieve the pictures. luke followed you after taking a few deep breaths.

he saw you leaning against the wall, the two strips of pictures in your hand. you had a goofy grin on your face, admiring them. luke sauntered next to you, taking a look at the photos.

he accepted the strip of photos you handed him, “we probably should’ve discussed our poses beforehand.”

“i dunno,” you were still staring at the pictures, biting your bottom lip. “i like ‘em.”

luke hummed, taking out his wallet. he folded the strip in threes, slotting the last photo in the clear compartment of his wallet. it looked perfect against the black leather, like it was the last thing needed to make his wallet look complete. he slipped it back in his back pocket, taking yours out to return to you.

“smoke shop?” he asked.

“please,” you nodded, beginning to walk out of the arcade. you waved goodbye to chiron who moved onto doing the daily crossword. “bye chiron! great to meet you!”

he bid the two of you goodbye, a knowing gaze on his face. you were already out the door when he sent luke a wink that had him shaking his head, face turning red at the man’s antics. luke shut the door behind him, ushering you over to the sidewalk towards the smoke shop, “i’m out of cigs too, so this is actually perfect timing.”

you waited outside the smoke shop, sitting on the curb. luke had a fake id (for research purposes, of course. he was just curious to see what the kentucky ids looked like.) so he bought your vape and his cigarettes. when he emerged, he joined you on the curb, pulling out his phone to call an uber back to camp.

the sun was long gone and he could hear the owls hooting in the distance. it was not a good idea to walk back to camp, even if it wasn’t even a mile away. he watched you unwrap your vape, taking a small hit from it. he lit his cigarette with the lighter he carried with him and smoked with you in silence.

“uber is gonna take twenty minutes,” he said, placing his phone between the two of you, face up. “i’m guessing there’s not many people around here.”

you glanced at his phone, giggling at his lockscreen. it was a picture of the entire band, wearing matching novelty sunglasses taken at a .5 angle. they looked ridiculously like the guys you’ve grown to adore. “i like your lockscreen.”

luke tapped his phone to wake it up. he let out a laugh, “mom took it when we played vegas for the first time. we were too young to go out and we were too afraid to use our fakes so we went to m&m world and got wired on sugar.”

“you guys are really close, huh?”

“got to be,” luke shrugged, “we’re together 24/7, but even before that… these guys are my brothers. love ‘em, even when they’re a pain in my ass. what’s your lockscreen?”

you pulled out your phone, showing him the picture of you, clarisse, and silena flipping off the camera. it was taken during one of your (failed) attempts at studying at the library. you were all in sweatpants and large hoodies with the stress of midterms evident on your faces. “that’s silena, my other best friend from unc. her boyfriend, charlie, took this picture because he said we looked absolutely miserable. and we do, but it makes me happy looking back at it. we were struggling together and we somehow made it out together.”

“i do not miss school at all,” luke blew out the smoke in his mouth, “i was a shit student.”

“but now look at you,” you teased, “mr. rockstar.”

“yeah, yeah,” luke copied your voice, “can’t complain.”

you hummed, tucking your vape in the pocket of luke’s hoodie, “you can, especially with me. i’m the number one hater, so i enjoy complaining quite a bit.”

“oh, i know.”

you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes as he stumbled in his seat, laughing. you cleared your throat, voice turning serious, “seriously. i owe you for today, so complain to me all you want.”

“you don’t owe me shit, five star,” luke put out his cigarette, standing up as his phone alerted him that the uber was coming soon. he held out his hand to help you up. “but i will take you up on that offer. of course, i can only do that if you don’t ignore me for weeks again.”

you slapped his hand away, shaking your head, smiling, “shut the fuck up.”

luke flagged down the uber, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you into the backseat. you entered, making polite conversations with the lady in the driver’s seat.

“for chase?”

luke nodded, “yup, thanks so much.”

as the car drove off in the direction of camp, you turned to luke, mouthing, “chase?”

he took out his wallet and handed you his fake id: chase reed, brown eyes, brown hair, 5’11.

luke safely tucked the id back in its slot when you tossed it back at him, giggling at his alter-ego. he didn’t say anything when you moved closer to him, sitting in the middle seat, and held his hand the rest of the way back to camp.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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giddyfatherchris · 19 days

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I'm in love with you!!

pairing. felix x gn!reader

type. best friends to lovers

warnings. none except pure undiluted fluff

a/n. fricking loved writing this, it made me miss summer so muuuch, but i had the greatest time while listening to these songs on replay😋 highly suggest to have them playing in the background while reading! or just give them a listen cuz they’re amazing hehe hope you enjoy!! xx

song recommendations. calm - cody simpson, im in love with you - the 1975, island in the sun - weezer, heavenly state of mind - lewis capaldi, the view - skz

"I like the view right now!" you chanted as the salty wind ruffled your hair and caressed your skin.

Your eight friends started hooting in agreement, all understanding the reference to one of your favorite songs of theirs.

As a celebration of their highly successful last tour, you had all decided to book a trip to a private island off the coast of Australia. It took a boat ride to reach the secluded piece of land filled with villas and populated with a few staff members. It was a paradisiac hideaway for you all, so accustomed to being surrounded all the time.

You turned back with a gigantic smile. Felix, who was standing behind you, mirrored the expression on your face, a certain twinkle illuminating his gaze.

You jumped in his arms, startling him as he caught you rapidly. "And I love going to the beach!"

He spun you around, feet digging in the sand while you both screamed. The rest of the group looked at you with amused expressions. By now, they had become quite accustomed to your antics. You ended your frivolous spinning by plopping down on the sand, slightly out of breath. You stretched your arms as far as you could, relishing in the stunning warmth of the Australian sun, and turned to cuddle against Felix, his nose already nuzzling in your hair. "I'm so happy to be back home, Lix." "So am I," he answered with a soft smile, his eyes half-closed.

After a day well spent outside, swimming and exploring, you had collectively decided to set up a cozy little camp on the beach to enjoy the warm night under a sky full of stars.

"Are you done, you two? We need help setting up!" shouted Changbin.

"I'm coming, you whiny child!"

You faked irritation with rolled eyes, but ever since you walked off the plane, you couldn't stop your lips from tilting upwards. Your soul seemed to be shouting and dancing to the rhythm of your home. Nothing could you get you down from your little cloud of happiness, even a whiny Changbin. You got up to lend him a hand before he started throwing a tantrum, not noticing Felix's hand still subtly reaching for you.

The young Australian looked at the stunning view. You were right. Being home felt amazing. It was wonderful to have some vacations after being on tour, especially here with you.

You had been friends for as long as he could remember.

From meeting in kindergarten to facing high school's adventures to growing into two young adults. You never had any big fights, your friendship having prevailed over any argument and hardship. Even the distance hadn't been enough to pull you apart.

Felix remembers too well the fear he felt before telling you he wanted to become an idol all those years ago. He was so scared you would disapprove and hate him for wanting to go so far away. But your anger only came from the fact that he had never said a thing about it. He remembers fondly how you jumped on him, hugging him tight with tears lining your eyes. From that moment on, you had been his fiercest supporter. You cried buckets when he left for Korea but made him promise to keep in touch every day. So you video chatted whenever he could. You stayed up with him for entire nights, braving the time difference to give him pointers on choreo stuff or to cheer him up when he had a rough day.

Until you no longer had to do any of that.

Looking at you now, getting along so well with his brothers, made his heart tighten with emotion. At 23 years old, he had everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything

Felix knew since he was 14 years old that he loved you. Part of him had hoped that once he was in Korea, his heart would finally stop beating only for you, but it never happened. He had dated a little, but no one had compared to you. With time, he became accustomed to the idea of never falling in love with anyone else.

It was a thought he accepted without so much difficulty. He couldn't help how his heart started speeding up whenever you were close to him. The reassuring feeling of having you by his side. The way your smile made him see stars. The way you cuddled into his side or held his hand, how your gaze lit up whenever you saw the sea, and how he was the one you reached for when you were sad, angry, or just disgustingly happy. He wanted to experience everything with you, every high and every low. He couldn't and didn't want to imagine himself doing life with anyone else. It would be this or nothing else, and he was comfortable with that.

After all these years, he had never found the courage to tell you. The fear of losing you paralyzed him. But as he looked at the joyful sea, breathed the fresh Australian air, and looked at you laughing and fighting fiercely against an uncooperative beach chair, he thought maybe this vacation was the time. The time to face his fears, as he did almost seven years ago to chase his dream, and see where it would lead him.

"Felix!" called Changbin, interrupting his train of thought. "Come and walk with us! We want to see how far the beach goes in that direction."

He lifted his head with a smile, looking at his friends waiting for him, bare feet in the sand.

"Hurry!" you waved. "We don't want to miss the sunset!"

It had been months since he had seen you so excited, so eager. He knew you loved coming with them on tour. But he also knew Australia would always own your heart.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming!"

He swatted the sand away from his shorts before walking to your little group.

You started walking on the beach, Felix close to you. Seungmin, I.N, Hyunjin, and Changbin ahead, busy taking pictures in front of the rose-colored sunset. Bang Chan and Lee Know were trying to start your little fire while Han prepared the perfect playlist. Suddenly, you recognized the familiar air of their song, 'The View'. You looked back to Han with a huge smile. He simply winked and gave you a thumbs-up before focusing on his phone once more.

The notes of the music danced around you, making the ambiance even more special. There was something in the air, a prickling, exciting feeling.

You swayed gently to the music as Felix snapped a few pictures. The two oldest near the fire, Han next to the speaker, the boys walking ahead, the sunset. He seemed to be on a mission to commit everything to memory.

You felt his focus shift and noticed he subtly tried taking pictures of you. You walked up to him with a soft smile.

"Are you taking pictures of me, sir?" "I might be," he smiled back, his dimples on display. "Well, I'm afraid you need permission for that…" you continued, taking a step closer.

Without giving him a second to interpret your movement, you stole his phone with a squeal of victory.

"Come back here!" He protested, but you ran as fast as you could to Changbin, giving him the phone. As you expected, he sprinted in the opposite direction while laughing like a dolphin.

"You think you're funny or something?" asked a slightly out of breath Felix as he reached you.

"In fact, I do."

You splashed him and ran off while giggling like a maniac. As hoped, your antics started a generalized water war. Felix kept running after you, deciding he needed to get vengeance while the other boys splashed each other. You laughed wildly and ran in the shallow waters, not daring to look back and give him a chance to reach you.

You had water up to your knees by the time you heard him whine, "Wait! Y/n! You're gonna get all wet."

You turned around with a taunting look in your eyes. "Felix Lee, has the idol lifestyle gotten to you?" You gave him a pitying look. "Have you forgotten all about your Australian roots? Are you scared of a little water?"

A little taunting was usually all it took for you to rile up your best friend, and tonight would be no different. His eyes scrunched with determination, "Oh, you just wait till I get my hands on you." He tried threatening you, but you didn't give him a chance as you dove into the clear water.

Without a second thought, he jumped in after you, fully clothed. He barely broke the surface when you jumped on him from behind and tried to push him back underwater. He managed to take ahold of your wrists, careful not to clamp too hard. You took a deep breath, ready to be ducked under, but he softly made you twirl in the water. You gave him a surprised look as he winked and let you go benevolently.

Complete elation seized you as the beautiful young man looked at you with that smile of his, hair slicked back from the water, a light illuminating his soft eyes.

"I love Australia! I love the beach! I love being in the water! I love this night!!!" you screamed as you threw your arms in the air.

The other boys looked in your direction with giant smiles, drenched in water. The ever-present professional idol aura in their demeanor was nowhere in sight. They shone with pure happiness. For once, they could be only themselves, away from cameras and personas. Your heart sang with happiness for them.

"I love being home!" screamed Chan. "I love Australian BBQ!" added Changbin. "I love vacations!" said I.N "I love to splash Grandpa Chan!" joked Seungmin. "I love sunsets!" screamed Hyunjin. "I love water wars!" laughed Han. "I love cats!" finished Lee Know.

All eyes turned to Felix, the only one who hadn't said anything yet. His soft gaze set on you, the intensity taking the breath away from your lungs. He rallied his breath and screamed. "I LOVE YOU!"

The boys all went silent. You stared at him in disbelief.

"I love you. I love you so much. I always have, and I always will. Since we were kids, no one has ever meant the same to me. I love being here with you. I love being anywhere around the world with you. I love seeing you smile. I love the way you're so passionate. I- I don't want anyone else." It occurred to Felix that this was maybe not the right way to do this, as he noticed the silence surrounding him, but he kept going. "I know this is probably so out of pocket for you. You probably don't believe this is real, but I assure you it is. Since I was 14, I've been thinking of the right way to say this to you. I never thought it would happen like this but it feels right. So right, to finally tell you while you're at the place you love most and where I can see you shine brighter than ever."

You stared at him before a smile tugged at your lips, and you suddenly screamed. "I LOVE YOU!" He stood there with his arms limp at his side. Your words shocked him, and his mouth opened before he asked, "You love me?"

The light of disbelief shining in his eyes made your heart tighten. "Of course, I love you Lix. Honestly, I'm not sure how you didn't notice it," you added with a sheepish smile.

He took a step towards you, "You love me?" "Yes." Another. "You're sure?" you nodded with a bright smile. He was right in front of you, his arms a millimeter from wrapping around your body. "You love, love me?"

"OF COURSE I LOVE LOVE YOU. ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL." You leaped in his arms, water splashing around.

"SHE LOVES HIM!" Screamed the seven other boys in unison.

You smiled as you put your lips on his, barely registering the ruckus of your friends running for the two of you, throwing water around to celebrate the long-awaited moment you two idiots would realize you had been pinning for each other for years.

#ilya writes #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin #i.n skz #felix x reader #felix x y/n

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maginxlia · 1 year

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Starring Tokyo Revengers Men In ✰ Drunk

Cast Line Up Bonten! Ran, Rindou, Haruchiyo, Mikey, Kakucho, Hajime and Current Shuji

Rated TV-MA

Minors This Isn’t For You

Summary ✰ Your Favorite Man Getting Drunk Off Your Kitty! Kitty making strong Men Weak!

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ran Haitani

✰ Your pussy has done something to the man, from the moment his tip push past your folds he feels his mind getting Hazy

✰ Your Pussy just made for him and he will never deny it

✰ His body shivering while you grip his dick so good his eyes roll in the back of his head

✰ He stays pussy drunk for days after fucking you

✰ His Mind stays filled with thoughts of getting drunk off your pussy, He can't even concentrate during Bonten Meetings

✰ “What did Kokonoi say again?” Ran asked Rindou while he stared into space,” What was your mind on that you couldn't pay attention to an entire fucking meeting? Rindou asked his brother face full of annoyance. “I was thinking of the way Y/N Pussy pulls me in deep when I'm fuc-” Ran says before getting cut off by Rindou, “ENOUGH! Stop running your damn mouth. Dammit.” Rindou says as he got up from his chair in a huff

✰ Ran doesn't care what others think he would scream from the rooftops about how good you make him feel and how hard you make him cum

Ran Laid on you as he fucked you. his thrusts were sloppy as he fucked into you with reckless abandon, “So tight” Ran slurred while his fingers messily toyed with your clit

“Pussy got me all messed up!” Ran groaned before kissing your shoulder to block his whimpers as you messed up his hair, “Pussy got Ran Haitani Weak” You teased as he pinched your nipples

Ran Main Concern was cumming as he fucked deep into you while groaning your name, your pussy was holding his dick tight with each stroke he gave making his body tremble against you. “I need to fuck you deeper, I need to cum deep in you” Ran grunted before sucking your neck

His dick dug deeper into you with every thrust as he fucked you with all the energy he had left “Fuck. Taking me so well” He whimpered as your pussy gripped him harder, “Gonna make me cum in that pretty pussy” he mumbled into your hair as he felt himself losing control

His fingers and dick pushed you over the edge as you came on his dick, “So fucking good” repeatedly fell from Ran's lips as came right after you. His Dick cumming into your velvety walls while his hips rolled trying to push himself even deeper

“Fuck. Baby, Got me all Delirious” Ran Groaned as he gave you a few more shaky thrusts before pulling out, “ So fucking good to me” Ran mumbled before wrapping his arms around you.

Rindou Haitani

✰ Rindou can't keep himself from becoming an incoherent mess when your pussy holds him so well and you moan his Name like a song

✰ Nothing Makes him drunker than when you keep riding him after he cums

✰ His eyes blown in lust as he watches his dick thrust in and out of you

✰ Your pussy making the younger Haitani lose his head and keep him in a daze for days

✰ His Body going through withdrawals when he's not able to fuck you

✰ Is addicted to you and he won't deny it, Got Him fucking you in his car to Hold him over until he's able to stretch that pussy properly

✰ Will finger and lick you until his hand cramp up & his tongue is numb

✰ You Got Sanzu eyeing him like who’s the addict now? But He doesn't care as long as he can keep his dick buried between those slick folds and Hear those pretty moans, He's in Heaven

Rindou's eyes studied the way your pussy creamed around his dick as you rode him silly, His Mind was long gone while a string of “Fucks” fell from his lips. He already came buckets in you twice tonight he was positive you were trying to milk him dry

“Pussy Got Rinnie Drunk I see” You teased as your hips rolled on him making him moan, “Fuck, can't even pull my thoughts together” Rindou whimpered as you bounced on him harder

You laid your hand on his chest while chasing your high, your head was thrown back as you rode his dick so good that Rindou had to grip the sheets with white knuckles. Your titties bouncing while your moans filled the room making Rindou's Thoughts all Jumbled

“Fucking This Dick so good” Rindou Groaned while thrusting up into you before holding your hips still,” Feel How deep I am In you right now? Grind on it” He commanded as he licked your right nipple

You Obeyed his orders as you rolled your hips in circles, his dick pressed against your G-spot making your eyes roll as you held his head to your chest. Ever so often Rindou would push his dick a little deeper in you while he kept his eyes close

It wasn't long before your pussy was clenching on him as your orgasm Graced you, Rindou could barely force a fuck past his lips while your pussy made him cum ropes deep inside you. “Fuck. Rinnie I can Feel every drop” You Tease making his face red while you continue to ride him

“Gonna Ride This Dick Until I feel like stopping” You moaned as Rindou whimpered incoherently under you

Haruchiyo Sanzu

✰ Deep in your pussy is where Haruchiyo wants to be for the rest of his days

✰ Your pussy just milks his dick so good, Making him tremble against your body as you take every drop he gives you

✰ His mind swimming for days after he gets done fucking you it doesn't help he fucks you whenever he can so he stuck in a loop of intoxicatedness

✰ “Fuck. Pretty pussy keeps my head swimming and my thoughts hazy” Haruchiyo groans as he pulls out of you

✰ Got him feeling your pussy on him when he's at work just driving him mad

✰ “The Fuck Wrong with Him?” Ran asked his brother while Haruchiyo daydream about fucking you, “Who The fuck knows! Just mind your business for once” Rindou says while rubbing his temples

✰ Haruchiyo is pleasantly drunk off you and he never wants to sober Again

Haruchiyo Fucked you deep into the soft Mattress of you two shared bed, “Fuck. Cum for me Again Baby. I know you want my cum deep in you” Haruchiyo said while his fingers pinched your clit making you squeeze down on him

“Yes. Drain me dry” He groaned while his pretty eyes looked down at you with his eyes blown from pleasure , “So fucking Gone. All I can think about is fucking this pussy till I can't anymore” Haruchiyo moaned into your ear as he raised your leg up to fuck you deeper

His Hips moved hard against your body as he fucked you rough and Needy, His fingers rubbing on your clit as his dick pounded your G-Spot Making you scream his name as his eyes rolled back “Fuck. Driving me insane” Haruchiyo grunted out as he chased his pleasure greedily

Your pussy held him tight as you came around on his dick making Haruchiyo collapse on top of you as his hips moved on their own trying to push his dick deeper into your soft walls, “ Feel That Babe?? That's me coming deep in that pussy of yours” Haruchiyo Groaned into your ear while he came deep into you

Haruchiyo didn't even Have the mind to free himself from you before rolling over so your head can lay on his chest, “ Just Gonna Let You Warm me tonight. Don't wanna waste a drop” He said while rubbing your back

Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano

✰ Manjiro would be lying if he said your pussy doesn't make him weak

✰ From the First thrust to the way you grip him when he's cumming deep in you got his body shivering

✰ His Mind is broken by you and he doesn't want it to be fixed

✰ You got him so drunk that he lose control while he in you trying to see how intoxicated he can get off of you

✰ Got Him fiending for you. Anytime or Anyplace he wants his dick buried deep in you so he can get his fix of you

✰“Gripping This Dick like it's your Job, Pussy got me delirious” Manjiro moans while he strokes you deep

✰ He needs you to Keep Him Pussy Drunk and Stupid

With Shaky Hands Manjiro Held your hips to pull you closer to him “Deeper. Need to feel every inch of you” Manjiro Whimpered in your ear as he fucked into you.

Your Pussy sucking in him deeper but it still wasn't enough for the male as he raised your hips off the mattress “ More. Need more” he whined while his body shivered against your own, Manjiro was quick to put his body weight on his left knee while his dick drove into you

Your moans and his incoherent whimpers filled the room as Manjiro got lost in the sensation of your pussy holding him tightly, Manjiro was so pussy drunk that he couldn't hold back tears from falling from his eyes “Taking This Dick so fucking Good with that tight pussy” Manjiro moaned into your ear before spanking your ass

He was Greedy as he pounded into you trying to get drunker than ever before, his hands holding your breasts to make you arch better for him as your pussy squeezed him so hard he thought he was going to forget his name

“Keep Squeezing me like that and I'm going to fill you with my cum” He growled as his hips drilled his dick deeper into you hitting that spot in you that make you say his name like you're singing

Manjiro Kept fucking you deep even while you were cumming on his dick, His thrusts became rougher as he chased his high as he painted your soft walls with his cum “ So fucking Beautiful filled with me” Manjiro moaned as he laid against your back while thrusting into you

“Let's stay like this for a moment hmmm?” Manjiro whisper in your ear as he tried to collect his thoughts

Kakucho

✰ Kakucho is Already Drunk In love with you but your pussy amplifies everything for him

✰ Will spend hours between your legs lapping at your pussy like you're his last meal

your Moans and Pussy Keep him Intoxicated more than any Liquor ever will

✰ Propping himself on his arms because your pussy got him so weak he can barely hold himself up

✰ You got his mind and Body weak but baby his spirit is more than willing to please you

✰ Rushing Home from work to fuck you, so he can overwhelm his senses with you

✰ Pussy Got Kakucho Roaming this streets with his thoughts on you and his mind numb

✰ He Rather Live His Life Drunk and Dumb than Go one day without Pleasuring you

Kakucho Studied your face as he fucked you towards your fourth orgasm of the night, his beautiful eyes filled with love as his dick found your G-spot with every stroke

“So Gorgeous under me making me weak” Kakucho Groaned as you bought your hands up to cup his face, “Kaku so Beautiful making me moan for him” You moaned as you raised your hips up to meet his thrusts

Kakucho wasted no time sucking on your left nipple while rubbing your clit so good your body shook, Your body rolling as your pussy pulsed around making Kakucho Groan around your nipple

He fucked into your pussy so well, blessing your pussy with each push of his hips. You both getting lost together in each other pleasure, You can tell by His Breathy moans that Kakucho was already intoxicated by you

His Lips founds yours as his thrusts became messier, Your pussy pulsating hard as your orgasm blessed you making Kakucho cum with you. “ So Beautiful” You moaned as you pushed his hair back while Kakucho Looked at you with hazy lust filled eyes

“Make me Feel so Good” Kakucho said before kissing your face and pulling you into a embrace

Hajime Kokonoi

✰ Poor Hajime Knows he will be dumb and drunk after his dick slides between your sweet folds

✰ “So Wet, So Soft, So Tight” Hajime Mumbles in your ear as he lay on top of you

✰ Clench On his dick while clawing his back up and will be putty in your hands

✰ Your pussy got Him whimpering as He fucks into you

✰ Got Him the Happiest Man around, you are the best kind of high and only he's able to experience it

✰ He gets so drunk off your pussy that he mutters what he will buy you while he fucks you deep

✰ If he said you're getting it he meant it! “What I said while I was in that delicious pussy I Meant. Now let's go shopping for that house I promised you” Hajime says while helping you put on your coat

Hajime's eyes were crazed as he fucked into you deep, each stroke making your toes curl and his body shiver

“Pussy so perfect, sweet and warm” He groaned as your pussy swallowed his dick so good he could cry, He couldn't help but press his body on yours while he fucked himself stupid with your pussy

He was so deep in your pussy that every single movement from you made him belligerent, “ Ahh Creaming so good on my dick” Hajime groaned. “ can't get deep enough inside you” He muttered while trying to push his dick deeper in you

Hajime rolled his hips as he relished the feeling of your pussy holding him in while he palmed your clit making your pussy throb around him “Baby. Feels so good around me” He moaned as he gave you those slow strokes that make you cum around him

“Gonna make me drop Millions on you,” Hajime said as your pussy worked his dick as you began cumming, your pussy gripping his orgasm from him. “ Milking dick so fuck well” Hajime moaned as his body jolted

He gave you a few shallow thrusts before holding you tight against him, “I N-Need to F-Find My mind baby, Just L-Let me hold you” he whimpered while rubbing circles into your skin

Shuji Hanma (Bonus)

✰ The quickest way to shut Shuji's Mouth is to lay that pussy on his face or on his dick and make him drunk

✰ Brain Goes dumb the moment he tastes you on his tongue

✰ Your Pussy alone is enough to make the Reaper stop his teasing and Beg for you to put that pussy on him

✰ “Let me slide it in.. Please. Promise I won't hurt ya, just let me fuck that pussy real good and slow” Shuji says while playing with your shirt

✰ He gasps Hard when he first enters you, pussy got him ready to bust on contact

✰ “Damn.” Shuji groans as your pussy embrace his inches effortlessly making his toes curl,” Gonna make me cum before I get the chance to properly fuck you. Let me catch my breath for a sec” Shuji Groans while he stays still in you

✰ Gets the worst “Hangover” when he's not fucking you and Getting drunk off your pussy, “I need to fuck you again Babe. Head not feeling right. Need to fuck you deep and dirty” Shuji whispers in your ear while grinding against you

“This Pussy All Mine” Shuji Groaned as fucked you on the floor of his studio, “No one can fuck you like I can A-And N-Nothing can make M-Me feel like you do” He grunted while gripping your thighs hard

“Pussy Got Hanma Stuttering? Wow.” You Giggled as your fingers tugged on his long hair while he fucked into you harder for your teasing remark, “Yeah Yeah. Pussy is Intoxicating But only I can get Drunk off you” Shuji groaned while pussy gripped him harder

Your pussy was so tight and wet it was driving him mad As he fucked you deeper with long strokes making you moan in his ear as his eyes rolled “Just like That Shu” You moaned while you toyed with your clit

The way your pussy was pulling him in was making him stupid As his words came out broken in your ear, his hips roughly snapped into yours while he fucked you down as both of you moaned together

Your pussy pulsing as you came hard on his dick making Shuji shake, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Shuji groaned as he filled your pussy with his cum. “Got my mind numb” Shuji grunted before pulling out of you

“ You Can't even drive us home, Brain just lost” You teased as Shuji Draped his Jacket over you two, “ Have to sleep it off here I guess” He said before pulling you onto his chest

Hotties on the Taglist ❤️‍🔥 @obitohno @earlmeow @lovelygeniegirl1012 @whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon @ransluvrboy @bakarilennox

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#ran haitani x reader #rindou x reader #shuji hanma x reader #kokonoi x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu x reader #kakucho x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x black!reader #tokyo revengers x reader #anime x black!reader #Tokyo Revengers x black reader #Tokyo Revengers x reader smut

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laracroftdaily · 3 months

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Tomb Raider I-III Remastered Starring Lara Croft

"Within pre-production, we divided the conversation into three buckets: engineering, gameplay, and art. With these categories in mind, we led our conversations in the same order."

"For our modern controller settings, we take inspiration from the Legend, Anniversary, and Underworld era of Tomb Raider. These changes are felt mostly in the way Lara moves – the right stick has full camera control and Lara moves directionally based on camera position.

Just like our approach to the graphical presentation, the original tank-style controls are still available to players via a menu toggle."

"One of Tomb Raider’s strengths was the minimal UI. However, this can be frustrating for tougher bosses with massive amounts of health. We added a health bar to let you know if you should swap to the grenade launcher or if you should keep soaking pistol damage."

"While the menus in Tomb Raider used 3D models for the health kit and ammo, the in-game assets were flat 2D sprites. This was a legacy compromise that we’ve adjusted to give a little more umph to item pick-ups."

"This is a big moment for the Tomb Raider community, so we made sure to pack in as much content as possible. We’re excited to say there are over 200 trophies to earn including (my personal favorite) locking the Butler in the freezer. Sorry, Winston! See below for a sneak peak of a few you can look forward to discovering!"

"Exploring environments in Tomb Raider is magical. We want you to be able to share these environments and iconic moments, so we’ve added a robust photo mode to pose Lara, freeze gameplay, toggle between classic and modern graphics, and showcase these environments. We’re super excited to see what the community puts together with these modes."

"And a fews more surprises..." [Full article here]

TOMB RAIDER I-III REMASTERED is gonna be released February 14, 2024 on PC, PS4, PS5, Xbox and Switch!

#tomb raider #tomb raider remastered #tomb raider i #tomb raider ii #tomb raider iii #tomb raider 1996 #tomb raider 2 #tomb raider 3 #lara croft #classic lara croft #classic tomb raider #games #pics #news #links #by ksusha

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bluntblade · 6 days

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Realised that this never posted, but I stand by it:

It's really weird that Rogue One's aesthetic, which was specifically developed for a Star Wars film which had minimal space wizards and was instead about much more subdued characters and murkier moral themes, has now become the aesthetic which gets slathered over all new live-action Star Wars whether it fits or not.

Mando mostly works with that look because while there are some big personalities, they're almost all side characters, while the mains are stoic and reserved except for Grogu. Andor looks downright great, not least as much of it is shot on actual locations and on full sets.

But apply this to Ahsoka and Kenobi, and it rather cuts against the vibe they're going for. Space wizards, with their operatic cosmic conflicts and connection to a mystic energy, tend to want something a bit more heightened (which I think is an under-discussed problem in the PT which is very muted much of the time, and a major strength in the more stylised Empire and TLJ). The colours are muted, the angles mostly flat, and it ends up being at odds with the story being told.

To extend Kenobi some goodwill, lots of the latter seems to have come from the Volume. You keep seeing where the cinematographer wanted to crank a shot of Vader to be sharper and more impactful, but couldn't because the Volume doesn't permit that. Although I do think there are some baffling bits of blocking like in the chase and the first duel, the floaty shaky-cam is a generally poor look and really, Lucasfilm shouldn't lean so hard on the Volume (I mean, seriously guys, look at Monarch. That looks miles better than anything you've done on TV except for Andor.) But point is, they tried and ran into constraints.

Meanwhile Ahsoka seems exceedingly comfortable with both feet in Gordon Willis' metaphorical bucket of cement. The characters' energy levels are tamped way down from Rebels to match the muted presentation, and things often feel low-energy even just within the context of these shows. Even when the show steps into the World Between Worlds, an explicitly supernatural plane (or goes into Ahsoka's coma dream) there's no real change in look. Contrast the way that Empire employs that low shutter speed in the dark cave, while TLJ steps into something surreal complete with voiceover and an impossible CG camera move. In Ahsoka, though, there's little attempt to make the place feel otherworldly beyond how the scenery looks.

And these are largely missing a vital part of Rogue One's look, which is scale. Both Gareth Edwards and cinematographer Greig Fraser are great at portraying large-scale things in interesting ways, and that's something which will tend to get lost with a move to the small screen and the massive use of the Volume, without shots from locations or physical sets to balance it out and make spaces feel more real.

#Ahsoka critical #Rogue One #blunt blathers #Ahsoka show

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galacticgraffiti · 3 months

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☽⋆The Night Comes Down Like Heaven⋆☾

All credit for this beautiful artwork goes to @pinkiemme! If you don't already know and love her, go check out her stuff, and whether you do or don't already follow her, leave some love for her! She deserves all of it.

Summary: Sometimes, everything gets to be too much, even for Rex. On a planet of blood flowers, where else could he turn but to the night sky? Rating: General Wordcount: 2.2k Warnings: Angst, Self-Doubt, Rex has a panic attack, Rex doubts his self-worth and personhood, hurt that turns to comfort eventually, brotherhood between soldiers.

A/N: I know I've been pretty absent from the Star Wars fandom, and unlike most of my other fics this is not OC content nor a reader insert. This fic is a gift for and a collaboration with @pinkiemme, who is a wonderful friend and so beloved to me. Every day you inspire me, my love. Thank you for asking me to collab, I had the best time! ❣

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The Night Comes Down Like Heaven

Rex’s heart is beating way too fast. He knows that, his hands shaking and his breath too hot inside his bucket. But nothing helps, nothing calms him. Nothing can take away this feeling of being outside of his own body, and simultaneously being trapped inside himself.

Rex tries to breathe, but the weight on his chest just won’t let him; he is being dragged under, voices fading into the background when he should be focusing on them and not the abnormally loud rush of his own blood in his head.

Campaigns like this are always hard, the ones where he has to be away from base for a long time. Not that he ever had any place to truly call home - not even Kamino, even though that might have been the closest he ever came.

But campaigns like this are still harder, being deployed for months at a time without a break, no time to truly rest, no time where he ever gets to feel safe.

Rex tells himself that he should be able to bear it, that he was designed for this, made for this.

It doesn't help: his heart still races and his hands still shake. The weight on his chest gets heavier, and the ringing in his ears unbearable.

Rex leans forward, clinging to the table where the Generals have set up a projection of the upcoming battle to talk it through. His knuckles must be white underneath his gloves from the force it takes him to stay upright, and General Skywalker’s concerned enquiry is just an indistinguishable mumble.

Rex feels like he might pass out just then, dark spots swimming in his vision as he desperately gasps for air beneath his bucket but his lungs just won’t fill.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, abruptly leaving the war meeting. He knows General Skywalker is staring after him, he knows General Kenobi and Cody are looking at each other with furrowed brows. But if he stays here even one second longer, Rex knows he is going to scream and scream and never stop again until a blaster finally gets him.

It’s a miracle he is still alive, after all this. By all accounts, he should be dead a hundred times over. So many enemies, and they just keep coming. It never stops, never slows, not even when Rex feels like he could just… crumble to the ground if it only meant he got to rest.

So many vode have been lost. Too many, even though they were bred for this, made for this, engineered for this. They are not real - were never real - just like Rex is not real. Not a real man, not even a real soldier. Just a clone, one of millions, all of them with the purpose to die, and do it slowly, to keep the Republic on its last legs a little while longer.

Rex bites down on his lip until he tastes blood, feet carrying him away from the light, from the chatter, from company and everything else. Just… away. He walks fast until he reaches the edge of their encampment, and only then does he let his legs speed up, running and running, almost in full gear, helmet fogging up, but he can't get his feet to stop.

The Republic is dying, and Rex is dying either for it or with it. There is no other way. That is all there is for him, because that is all he was made for, and that thought tastes so bitter he gags.

Treasonous thoughts, these are. Thoughts he would be court-martialed for if he ever spoke them aloud, even if he has heard rumblings in the barracks that have never been reported. The vode are loyal, even more to each other than to the Republic they were made for. But all it takes is one weak link.

The threat of reprogramming looms over them eternally: a fate worse than death, where nothing is left of the old soldier as a new one is made from his flesh, no more than a blank slate.

They are all expendable, Rex has no illusions about that. No matter how soft General Skywalker's eyes go when he looks at him, no matter the way General Tano bumps-

Rex stumbles, nearly dropping to his knees. He has not been watching where he’s going, just walking, running, sprinting - escaping the endless rows of tents. Fleeing with no rhyme or reason, his heart too heavy in his chest as his feet thunder on the ground.

When he looks around, there is nothing as far as Rex’s eyes can see, not a soul, not a building. Just meadows and rolling hills, and the deep night sky.

This planet could almost be beautiful if the flowers did not only bloom after blood had soaked the ground.

Rex double checks his surroundings with a heartbeat so fast his chest wants to break apart, but there is nothing and no one. He is really and truly alone, for the first time in weeks. Probably months. Maybe years- maybe ever.

That realisation hits Rex like a speeder train. Everything is too much: his body is not his own and he wants to shed it in this moment. He wants to cease existing in this way, and that is treasonous when it should be natural.

Rex lets himself drop to his knees, lets himself rip off his gloves and bury his fingers in the deep grass that surrounds him. And he lets himself scream. Scream into the void and the vast emptiness of the universe. Scream until his lungs give out, silent tears running down his cheeks and soaking the cushions of his buy’ce.

In the vastness of this universe, Rex is nothing. Not just nobody, but truly and entirely nothing. He is lost and without purpose, because his whole life means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

An old Mandalorian saying pushes through the heavy fog of anxiety that has settled on his thoughts, so pragmatic it nearly makes him laugh.

Ca’tra darasuum rohaka verd’an.

The eternal night sky defeats all warriors.

Rex almost tips over with the laughter that bubbles up in his chest. It falls off his lips like bitter pearls, but he cannot seem to swallow it down, and he can't breathe like this but it doesn't matter.

He can tell he is becoming hysterical, hiccups shaking him between laughter and tears, but he just can’t stop. Rex lets himself fall, and he lets himself feel. All of the emotions he has been pushing away, everything that has happened, all the little cracks in his armour, slowly eating through the Republic-issued plastoid until Rex just… falls apart. His cuirass is laying in the war tent with his General, Rex’s brittle heart exposed in the middle of a war zone.

And still, it’s not a shot from an enemy that brings him to his knees, it is the vastness of space looming above him, it is the hundreds of lightyears that lay between him and his fallen vode and it is the memory of Ahsoka’s small hand on his arm when they first met.

His protection is already frail, and there is nothing to be done about it. He is all alone, and without cover, with no back up and no weapon. And for once, Rex allows himself not to think about it as he takes off his buy’ce to look at the sky with his own eyes. The eyes of the man that he was made from, that are somehow still Rex’s own, made so by the things he has witnessed, by the bloodshed he has caused and the battles he has fought. Made so by the love he has been part of, and by the family he has found, most of them sharing those same brown eyes.

Rex lays back in the grass and stares at ca’tra darasuum, and he lets himself remember. The stars swim before his eyes as this blood-soaked planet slowly turns and turns, making its way around the centre of its universe. Rex lays between flowers born from the blood and the sweat and the pain of his brothers, and he feels so much that he thinks he will burst. Time passes like honey, and the sky is still dark when he is finally found.

Cody is like the sunrise, advancing slowly and then all at once, bathing Rex in his golden light even in darkness.

“Thought you couldn’t be far,” he mumbles as he crouches down next to Rex. “Guess I was wrong. Took me fuckin’ ages to find you, vod’ika.”

“This world is big,” Rex simply replies, with a voice rough from tears. “This world is so big, Kote. If we survive this, it won’t even make a difference. I look at the stars and all I see is cold indifference in the face of suffering and death.”

Cody cocks his head, and even through his dark visor, Rex can feel his brother's eyes on him. The sound of Cody’s voice is filtered through his helmet.

“Ca’tra darasuum rohaka verd’an.”

Rex laughs at that, a dry, humourless laugh. Nobody else knows what he is thinking the way Cody always does. Two generations of brothers, sometimes closer even than those from the same batch ever are.

“You know me too well.”

Cody scoffs.

“No such thing. Not when it comes to family.” He offers his hand to Rex. “Come on, vod’ika. You have been out here by yourself for too long already.”

“Nayc.” Rex shakes his hand. “Shebe ti’ni. Please. Just for a moment.”

Cody sighs deeply.

“I forget how young you can be sometimes.”

But he stays. He sits with his brother, in spite of everything, In spite of the war, the death, the pain that surrounds them every day and every night. Rex lays back again, while Cody keeps watch.

“The galaxy is so vast,” Rex says again, but this time, his voice is coloured not by sadness nor fear, but instead by awe. “Kote, if we get out of here alive… maybe we can be someone. Become someone. You know… the end of the war-”

“We don’t speak of the end of the war,” Cody interrupts him. “Cuyi verde, vod. Don’t fuck with me, you know this. We all know this. It's the truth that guides our path.”

Rex exhales. His breath forms little clouds in the cool night air, and something almost akin to peace washes over him. This is it. This is tangible proof that he is here, and he is real. Just like the grass beneath him, flattened by his weight. Just like the earth below, warmed by his body heat. Proof for his existence. He inhabits this galaxy.

“I have never asked for anything,” he says, and that makes Cody shut his mouth with an audible click. Rex smiles, sadness and fragile joy mixing on his features that are so much like Cody’s, but no matter how hard the Kaminoans have tried, have never been exactly the same. “I have never asked for anything, Kote. I have never had anything of my own, and I have been alright with that. But I’m asking you now. Let me have this moment, just a moment of peace and quiet. I am falling apart. Let me glue my pieces back together so I can hold on a little longer. Nakar’tuur mhi oyacyi akaanir ashi’tuur, isn’t that how the song goes?”

Cody goes very quiet and very still next to him. He does not respond, but when he takes off his bucket and sets it down next to Rex’s, Rex knows he has won.

“Look at the constellations with me, Kote,” he says, and in this moment, he is seven years old, tugging at Cody’s shirt sleeve and dragging him to the big skylight at Kamino, the one that never sees daylight in the eternal rain, on the one night of his life he can remember where no rain fell on Kamino. “Ta’raysholan verda, vod. They came before us, but we will outlive them. Let me dream of the end of our war before we die. Please.”

Cody smiles his crooked little Cody smile, the one that looks exactly like it did when they were children.

“War?” he says, and settles down on his back with his hands tucked behind his head, mirroring his little brother. “What war?”

Rex’s cheeks hurt from the smile that splits his face, and he lets himself bask in this moment of happiness. They are alive. They are here. He raises his hand to point out the first constellation they learned, way back when. Even though it looks all wrong, he would recognise it anywhere. Kamino seems a million lightyears away, and maybe it is. But the night sky still seems the same to him.

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Mando’a

vode - brothers buy’ce - helmet Ca’tra darasuum rohaka verd’an. - The eternal night sky defeats all warriors. vod’ika - little brother Nayc. Shebe ti’ni. - No. Sit with me. Kote - Glory (my own personal headcanon where the name ‘Cody’ comes from) Cuyi verde, vod. - We are soldiers, brother. Nakar’tuur mhi oyacyi akaanir ashi’tuur - Tomorrow, we live to fight another day. (Taken from my Mando’a lullaby) Ta’raysholan verda - A thousand warriors (also taken from that same lullaby - fuelled by the belief that dead soldiers become stars to watch over their fighting siblings).

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Taggies for the beloveds and a huge shoutout for @baba-fett, my eternal wonderful beta-reader who messaged me back within 2 seconds when i dropped the words 'rex angst' on her doorstep.

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @daimyosprincess @deewithani @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @sleepingsun501 @queen--kenobi @kik51199 @samspenandsword @ficsbynight @writingbylee @thefact0rygirl @wild-karrde @hayley-the-comet @rescuethewretched @equalityforcats @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @mandoloriancookie @felinaone @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @amyroswell @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @dudewhynotthis @kimiheartblade

#tcw #tcw fanfic #rex #captain rex #ct-7567 #neyo writes #neyo collabs #star wars #tw angst

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luveternals · 5 months

Text

paring: 2. simon 'ghost' riley x top male reader warning: 16+, MDNI cw: swearing, mentioned insomnia, mention of night terrors, drinking (you share a bottle with him), really it's all just implied but the story itself has nothing heavy in it, spoilers you get your head shoved into a bucket full of water by your team mates bc they love you lol a/n: way shorter than what I usually write, EDIT: guess who wrote angst double the length of this after just posting this story? yeah, def not me. you're right. ~ ~ ~ You don’t want to make it a bigger problem than you it is, but your team has been fussing all over you for the past three days.

You suppose drastic measures are to be brought into action then.

Night terrors are normal in this field of work, and you know they are simply trying to take care of one of theirs. It’s been a week since you’ve had a good night’s sleep, and it shows on the large dark circles betraying your exhaustion for all the world to see.

The base is dark and still, the quiet only broken by occasional soldiers losing their fight against insomnia. You creep through the shadows, bagpack slung over your shoulder, and watch the corridos for any unwanted witness.

The door is locked. It only slows you for a few seconds. Inside the darkness is softened by the moon rays casting into the room from the window and illuminating the shape hidden under the sheets. The figure is still, too tense for someone asleep. You reach forward anyway and brush your fingers against it, not surprised to find the moonlight reflecting on the sharp blade now inches away from your face.

You stare at the skull mask glaring at you with a raised eyebrow and your head tilted. “Come on, then,” you say after a moment when he doesn’t move, then swat the hand holding the weapon to the side and leave the room before he can so much as frown.

The sky is clear and twinkling with stars, and you don’t question your luck when you find the rooftop free of any of your exhausted peers. You woulnd’t be surprised to find them raiding the fridge though. Or the secret cabinet behind it.

You’re laying on your back, bagpack as a pillow and stolen sheets from your room as improvisted picnic towel, when he finds you. You smirk at him when he moves to loom over you, hiding the moon from your sight. “You were taking too long,” you say, shaking the open bottle in your hand his way before taking a swig.

They find you snuggled together the next morning, with him curled onto his side and you drapped over him with your head shoved into the back of his neck.

You wake with a jolt when someone smacks you on the head and feel Simon roll away with a groan at the sound of laughter.

“That is not,” someone says out of breath and slaps the giggle person next to them, “’get better sleep’ is not the same as ‘go shag the lieutenant’.”

You scramble to your feet when you sleep muddled brain register two of your mates dragging along a a sloshing bucket of water. “Oh, piss off!” you say with a hiss when you find yourself cornered and notice no one had dared to look at the untouchable Ghost the wrong way. “You’re such a traitor,” you tell him when he doen’t do anything other than stretch his neck at your situation, “I will not share my next bottle with you.”

“I can live with that,” he says, and you know he’s smirking under that sodding mask, “cravin' tea right now anyway.” And the bastard, actually, leaves before your own team jumps you and shove your head into the bucket.

~ ~ ~ reblog, comment and/or follow if you like what I write. please and thank you. without feedback I don't have a reason for keeping this blog alive, since I created it so I can practice my writing.

#story day #simon ghost riley #x top male reader #call of duty #reader insert #top male reader #dom male reader #cod mwii #cod #x reader

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xdaddysprincessxx · 8 months

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Go Ahead and Cry Little Girl

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x f!reader (Agent Gin)

Warnings: Daddy issues!!, character death mentioned, daddy kink, piv (again wrap it up guys!), f & m oral, dacryphillia, 1 use of song lyrics, dirty talk (it’s jack mf Daniels what did you expect?) boss/employee dynamics, sex work (we support sex workers in this household!) squirting, voyeurism, cum eating, Reader is described as having hair, a vagina, well hydrated (; and can blush. that should be all! Lmk if i missed something (:

A/n: This one’s for my babes with daddy issues! I see you, I love you. This idea hit me while I was driving to work and the song “Daddy issues” by The neighborhood came on. As of right now I think each Murder daddy is gonna have a daddy issues one shot but we’re starting off strong with my personal favorite cowboy.🤠

Growing up your dad wasn’t home very much. You honestly don’t have very many memories of the guy. The memories you do have always seem to be of him frowning at you, disappointed and telling you that you need to do better, be better. You were just a kid. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Instead of having a loving, doting father you had this stranger who’s approval you wanted desperately. So you worked hard in school, played sports, joined as many after school programs as you could and when you graduated high school you had full ride scholarships to all the big schools across the nation. I’m talking Harvard, MIT, Stanford, Yale, the list goes on. You ended up choosing Columbia University in New York so you could be as far away from home as possible. College was a breeze for you, graduating early with high honors you weren’t surprised when Statesmen approached you offering you an intelligence job.

Accepting this job was an easy decision for you. A few years after graduating high school your dad kicked the bucket and your mom ran off with the first guy who gave her a lick of attention. You had no one to go back too, no family to visit on the holidays. And you loved working at Statesmen. Working in the lab alongside Ginger, you helped create new technologies and advance healthcare. You had it all; a great career, a nice studio apartment in Manhattan. What more could you want? Ah yes approval. For some reason you still had this deep seeded need to be well liked and needed by others. So you do what any girl does, you sell your nudes online to creepy men in exchange they give you their money and high praises. You never reveal your face or your real identity so nobody knows it’s you.

🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃

Coming back to work after a long weekend is proving to be a tough one. You’ve been overworking yourself lately and having three whole days off you went home and slept for hours only waking up to eat Chinese takeout and then go directly back to sleep. Back in the lab, you find yourself frustrated and having to keep retrying new samples for a new antibiotic your working on.

“Hey Gin go ahead and take a break hun. I’ve seen you redo the same sample 10 times now. I’m not sure where your head is but try to get it out of the clouds before you come back.” Ginger Ale says to you as you lay your head down on the table next to the microscope you’ve been staring at for the last two hours.

Sighing, “Yea yea. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me Ginger. I just can’t focus and I have zero energy.” you say as you get up and start gathering your things.

Soon enough your back up on the fifth floor, down the hall from the cafeteria. Just as your rounding the corner you find yourself running right into the very man who haunts your every thought. Jack Daniels or Agent Whiskey as most people at Statesmen know him as. The man has been the star of all your dirty daydreams, his accent and mannerisms scream ‘southern gentleman’ and boy do you eat that shit up every time you see him.

“Well hey there darlin’ watch out where your going. Don’t wanna go runnin into any ole body now do we?” Jack says in his thick accent just as you bounced backward after hitting him square in the chest.

“Oh my god Agent Whiskey I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You manage to get out despite having the wind knocked out of you.

“Now darlin’ call me Jack. Am I gonna have to tell you this every time?” He teases you causing a deep blush to creep across your cheeks.

With a soft smile on your face and your eyes cast down, “Of course not Ag- I mean Jack.” You say with the smallest giggle. As soon as the words left your mouth you felt Jacks finger under your chin, lift your face up forcing you to look directly into his gorgeous deep brown eyes.

“There we go. Now that’s what I like to hear. My name come out of such a beautiful lady’s mouth.” Jack says with a smirk.

As if you couldn’t blush any harder, you somehow turn even redder in the face.

“Now go on beautiful, have a good day.” Jack says as he tilts his hat towards you.

“Thanks Jack, you have a good one too.” You manage to squeak out as you gather yourself once again and continue on walking toward the cafeteria.

🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃

Sitting down at a table in a far back corner, you crack open a cold can of coke and take a deep sip. The carbonation leaving a cold wake of bubbles in your throat, already feeling the affects of the caffeine. Pulling your phone out you decide to hop on your website and respond to a few messages as you wait for the soda to really kick in. You have a good handful of regulars who like to ask for custom content and one of them had recently asked for a video of you riding your favorite toy. Just as your about to send the video, a text comes in from Jack.

1:32pm - Hey I hope I didn’t hurt ya when you ran into me earlier sugar 😉

1:34pm - No you didn’t! If anything I’m sorry for running into you! I hope I didn’t hurt you Jack.🩷

Without even thinking, after you press send you hit the icon for your photos and pull up the video you were sending to your regular, find it and hit send.

🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃

Jacks sitting at his desk when he hears a ping and sees you’ve texted him back. As soon as he read your text he saw a video message pop up immediately after. Opening the video, he sees you sitting on the floor in your bedroom and a decent sized pink dildo. The video starts and you swing your leg over the dildo, lowering yourself down, you grab the dildo and swipe it through your folds a few times. Moaning, you drop all the way down on the dildo. The angle of the camera allows Jack to see the dildo stretch you open. Not quite as big as Jack, it still gives him a delicious view of what you’d look like speared on his cock. Thinking to himself, he wonders if you meant to send this to him through text. Most likely it was on accident. But what you don’t know is that Jack knows all about your little secret. In fact he’s been one of your regulars for awhile now. Always sending in requests and tipping generously. Something else he knows you are ignorant too is that he was the one who requested this particular video.

🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃

After texting Jack back and sending out the custom video, you feel awake enough now to get back to work. Just as you get back into the lab, you hear the lab phone ring. You go to grab the phone off the hook, “Hello Agent Gin, how can I help you?”

“Well well well if it ain’t the pretty lady I need to talk too” Jack crones into your ear. “I need to see you in my office darlin’ now. Please.”

“Yes of course sir I’m on my way now.” You reply, your voice cracking just the tiniest bit.

Unsure as to why Jack needs to see you in his office, you check your texts between you two to see if you misread something and that’s when you realize you sent Jack the video! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. You’re screwed! Your dirty little secret is out now and the one man you want so desperately inside of you now knows all about it.

🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃

Knocking on Jacks office door, you go to turn the knob to open the door.

Peeking your head in, “You wanted to see me sir?” you say as you clear your throat that’s suddenly dry as the Sahara Desert.

Sitting at his desk, you see Jack look up at you with this hungry look in his eyes.

“Ah there she is. Come in sugar. Have a seat.” He motions to the chair in front of his desk. You quickly come in, closing the door behind you and taking a seat.

Jack stands up, slowly walking towards the door when you notice he locks it. Making his way back to his desk, he sits on top of it directly in front of you.

“Now sugar your probably wondering why I need to talk to you.”

Gulping, you look down unable to look him in the face, “um I think I know why sir.” You manage to say, knowing there’s no reason to play stupid. You both know what you sent him. Might as well confess to it and get it all over with.

“Look at me sugar. I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours when I’m talking to you” Jack says in a low baritone voice.

Looking up at him, a deep blush covering your cheeks, you try to swallow as best you can and find your words.

“Now we’re both adults here. We both have urges. If you needed a good fuck darlin’ all you had to was ask. I’d be more than happy to oblige.” He says in a matter of factly tone.

Stunned you just gawk up the agent in front of you. Did he really just say that? Is he- he’s not- what is happening?!??

Jack goes to stand up, directly in front of you, “Get on your knees little girl.”

Unable to speak you do as he says and you push back your chair as you lower yourself onto your knees.

“There’s my good girl. Now sugar I’m going to fuck you good and hard. And your going to take every thing I give you. Understood?”

Shaking your head yes as you look up at Jack. Nervous as hell but you can’t help but get excited. Isn’t this what you always wanted? Isn’t he the star of your wet dreams?

Jack goes to take his blazer off, rolling up his sleeves as he begins to unbuckle his absurdly large belt buckle. Watching him undress like this has your mouth and pussy watering. Your finally gonna have the Jack Daniels inside of you. You can’t wait.

He pulls out the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. Now you get why this man walks around so arrogantly. The man has the dick to back it up. Your eyes widen as the head of his cock seems to stare at you in your soul. At about average length, he’s girthy as all get out. There’s no way you’d be able to get much of him in your mouth.

Jack gives his cock a few good strokes, “Open up sugar. Let me see how good you can be.”

You drop your jaw quickly and open your mouth, dropping your tongue out. Smirking, Jack takes his cock and starts rubbing it up and down your tongue. After gliding the head on your tongue a few times, Jack sticks his cock in your mouth, forcing it down your throat causing you to gag at the intrusion. Without holding back, Jack continues to gag you with his cock. Your eyes over flowing with tears.

Jack looks down at you the whole time, just staring in awe at how beautiful you look with his cock in your mouth, eyes wide with tears looking back at him.

“Go on and cry little girl. Nobody does it quite like you sugar. I’ve been watching you for some time now. Oh yes I know all about your dirty little secret baby.” He reveals, making you choke even harder on his cock in utter disbelief. He’s known this whole time? How much of you has he really seen?

Jack finally pulls his cock out of your mouth, spit strings still connecting you two. Brown eyes staring deep into your soul, you take a deep gulp of breath, chest heavy as you manage to stutter out, “y- you know? How long?”

“I’ve known for awhile now darlin’. I love watching your little videos. Always gets me harder than a goddamn rock. It was actually me who requested that particular little video. So it is funny you accidentally sent it to me.” Jack admits.

Before you have the chance to respond, Jack grabs you by your arm helping you up before he’s leading you towards his desk and gently pushes your top half down so your bent over. Wearing a dress that day, you can’t help but feel bare as he bends you over his desk. You feel Jack crouch down behind you, warm hands running up and down the back of your thighs. You feel his warm breath on your clothed pussy.

Taking a deep breath in, Jack slowly pulls your panties down exposing your sweet pussy to him. Unable to help himself he presses his face in and lays a kiss to your exposed clit. Hearing you let out a soft moan breaks any bit of self control Jack had and he dives in. Tongue poking out, he swipes it through your folds a few times before making a zig zagging motion from your taint up to your clit.

Feeling his thick tongue protrude your wet pussy, you feel yourself gush as he starts to flick your clit.

Moaning, “Please Jack I need more. Please.” You whisper breathlessly.

Hearing your sweet request, you feel jacks thick fingers enter you and curl up, hitting that sweet spot.

Taking his tongue off your sweet, sweet pussy, “That’s it sugar. Tell daddy what you want baby. Tell daddy how to make this pussy cream.” Jack growls as he pumps his fore and ring finger faster into you.

All to quickly you feel the sudden need to pee. Moaning even louder causing Jack to pump his fingers even faster, all to soon you feel yourself start to squirt.

“Oohhh ungghh!!!!” Comes from deep in your throat as you continue to squirt, the exquisite feeling of squirting all over his fingers is a high you never want to come down from.

“Fuck sugar that’s it. That’s it baby come on, give it all to daddy baby that’s it” Jack crones as he tries to drink up every single drop.

Boneless, you can’t help but drop on top of the desk, unable to hold your upper half up any longer. Knees weak, legs shaking, you feel jack stand back up behind you. Jack takes hold of his cock, swiping it through your folds, gathering your wetness on his cock before he slides in your sweet pussy. The feeling of his thick cock splitting you open takes your breath away.

Taking his time, feeling every ridge inside of your pussy, Jack finally fills you up to the hilt.

“Fuuuccckkk” Jack breaths out as his cock kisses your cervix. After not moving for a few seconds to let you adjust to his girth, Jack begins pummeling into you. Hands gripping your hips, forcing you back onto his cock as he fucks you good and hard just as he promised.

“That’s it sugar. Look at you. Taking my cock. So. Damn. Beautiful.” He grunts out. Jack leans forward, his chest on your back when you feel his arm snake around your front and pulls you up to him. You feel his other hand bury in your hair forcing your head up when you notice a little red, blinking light up in the corner, “Smile for the camera darlin’” Jack crones into your ear. Knowing he’s been filming this entire time has your eyes rolling back as you moan.

“This sweet fucking pussy belongs to me now darlin’ you hear me? Only I get to fuck this pussy.” Jack whispers in your ear.

“Oh fuck yes. Yes daddy it’s yours. All yours! Fuck!” You say breathlessly, agreeing to whatever he says as long as he continues to fuck you this good. You feel yourself getting close once again, the feeling of needing to pee is back.

“Daddy I’m close, please please can I cum? I wanna cum daddy! Please let me!” You beg, hoping he shows you a little mercy and let’s you cum.

Jack slaps his hand over your mouth, “Fuck baby you gotta be quiet. Daddy’s gone let you cum baby girl don’t you worry. Daddy wants to feel his sweet pussy cum on his cock.” He tells you as his other hand snakes down towards your clit. You feel his thick finger swirl around your clit and that does it for you. All too soon you feel the dam break and your coming. Hard. You bite your lip trying your hardest to keep quiet. The euphoria you feel is hard to contain, your eyes rolling back once again.

Feeling you gush hard around his cock, almost as if your pussy is trying to push him out, does him in. Jack pumps a few more times before he’s coming inside of you. As your both coming down from your highs, chests heaving, you feel jack pull out of you leaving you an empty mess.

Not sure what possessed you, you turn around to face him and lower yourself down to your knees once again. Gripping the base of his dick, you lick the mixture of you and Jack off his cock all while looking up at him. Making a show of you swallowing every bit of your cum.

“Well I’ll be damned sugar. You never fail to surprise me.” Jack chuckles darkly as he watches you from above. You can’t help but smile sweetly up at him hoping this isn’t the last time you get a taste of this cowboy.

A/n: idk where this came from lol the song inspired me but this?^ yeeaaaa we can blame my hormone monster for this, I am ovulating lmao. I hope y’all enjoy!

Tagging a few Whiskey connoisseurs and friends that I think will enjoy: @neverwheremoonchild @foli-vora @whiskeynwriting @lumoverheaven @toxicanonymity @multiversed-daydreamer @nosesitter @beefrobeefcal @juletheghoul @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @megangovier20 @ikissdin @wannab-urs

#pedro pascal #Jack Daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey smut #spicy smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #kingsman the golden circle

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talkfastromance4 · 10 months

Text

Watermelon Sugar–Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 3.3k

warnings: some body insecurity, brief smut scene

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

Jake told you about the bbq pool party happening on July 4th, he really did, but you were nervous for two reasons; you didn’t have a suit and you were anxious for him to see you in one. While you were having breakfast on the patio the day before, he was going over how he’d be gone shortly in the morning to do a flyover at the base but then he’d be back at eleven with the others. He insisted you invite Brynne, Serena and Dom but Dom always heads back home to spend the holiday weekend with his family.

“I think I’ve got all your favorite foods for tomorrow, and some hard seltzers in the fridge by the bar. Is there anything else you need?” he asked and you bit your lip. “What is it, Sugar?”

“I don’t have a nice suit to wear,” you admitted sheepishly.

“No big deal, let’s go shopping,” he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and pulled away from the table.

“No, wait–” you grabbed hold of his forearm, he looked down at you. “Can–can I go by myself?”

He opened his mouth but then closed it. “Sure. I’ll have Reynolds take you. Buy a suit for every day of the week, okay?” He kissed your hand that was on his arm.

So you did, you bought the ones that made you feel good in them and decided to wear a blue two-piece with white stars. You also bought a blue wrap to wear over it as a safety blanket when you were in front of Jake. Jake kissed you goodbye before he left to fly and you slept for another hour before getting up and getting ready.

You’ve just finished putting on red lipstick that matches the red ribbon tied in your hair when Jake gets home. His flight suit is tied around his waist, his hair still a little sweaty and his aviators are hanging off his nose.

“Don’t you look pretty,” he smiles, tossing his keys and wallet on his dresser. You’ve moved all your makeup stuff in his room, he bought a vanity for you to use along with the makeup you use and a bunch of stuff you’ve only dreamt about using.

“You look hot, I mean–” you shake your head, “you’re sweaty.” He smirks at your comment but doesn’t really acknowledge it.

“Yeah, it’s a scorcher out there,” he says, sifting through his drawers for an American flag style swim trunks. “Make sure to put on sunscreen. Everyone should be here in an hour.”

“Okay…do you need my help with anything?”

“All taken care of, Sugar. Too bad you’re all dolled up, was gonna see if you’d want to save on water and take a shower with me.” He stands in front of you, tracing the contour of your face with his fingers until they’re under your chin. He tilts your head up.

You shift in your chair making sure your wrap is covering you. Jake notices, his brows furrowing but again, he doesn’t say anything. You’re thankful for that.

“Maybe next time,” you finally respond coyly.

“Okay, Sugar,” his thumb drags over your bottom lip. “I love this color red on you.”

And then he’s gone heading towards his bathroom singing the chorus to ‘Danger Zone’ before shutting the door.

***

The party is in full swing and you feel a little more at ease when Serena and Brynne arrive. They gushed about your new suit and admired the other ones you bought. As soon as the three of you entered the pool area, Rooster smiled at Serena who quickly went over to him by the pool. He was standing on the first step, beer in hand and a bucket hat on his head.

“He better ask for her number today, or Dom is gonna kick his ass,” Brynne sighs watching your friend flirt with the pilot.

“He hasn’t yet?”

“Nope. And S keeps dropping hints but he’s oblivious.”

“I’ll say something to Jake. I know Rooster’s crazy about her,” you smile then notice Phoenix by the bar. She keeps glancing at Brynne while talking with Bob, her eyes traveling over Brynne’s cherry red suit. “Hey, Brynne, have you met Natasha yet?”

You take Brynne’s hand dragging her around the pool towards the bar and in front of Bob and Natasha.

“Hey guys, this is Brynne. My friend and coworker. Brynne, this is Bob and Natasha,” you introduce. Brynne’s eyes glitter when she meets Natasha’s and they shake hands and Natasha offers to get her a drink.

They move to the other end of the bar initiating small talk and that makes you happy. Warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and hot lips are on your cheek in a kiss.

“Hey Sugar, are you thirsty?”

You nod and he moves behind the bar to get one of your hard seltzers, he pops the tab and slips it inside a coozie. He adds a steel straw then hands it to you.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” he asks taking a pull from his own beer.

“Umm…” you suck on your straw, eyes downcast.

“Let’s put some on before you go in the pool,” he pats the side of your hip affectionately. “C’mon.”

“Jake, I–”

He gives you no choice and tugs you along towards the house. Coyote and Payback say hello to you, they’re seated on the lounge chairs discussing something about football. Fanboy is relaxing in the sun.

The cool air feels good from the dry heat outside as you enter the house, Jake still leading you through the house and into the bathroom on the first floor near the laundry room. He opens the closet grabbing a tube of sunscreen.

“I can put it on myself,” you say quietly, arms crossed over your chest making sure the wrap is still secure around you.

“I can get your back,” he smiles clicking the top open. “And you can rub my back, too.”

“Jake, I don’t–” you cover your face with your hands.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?”

You shake your head, eyes closed.

“Sugar, talk to me please. What’s wrong?”

“I’m self-conscious,” you mutter.

“Self-conscious of what?” he takes hold of your hands and you let him remove them from your face. You open your eyes to stare at your joined hands between you.

“Of how I look. I’m not tall and toned like Serena is and I don’t have the nice curves like Brynne does…I’m…I’m not–”

“y/n, look at me,” his voice is soft. You force your eyes up, his thumbs are rubbing the backs of your hands. “You’re beautiful, exactly the way you are. Your height, your size, your curves, all of it. I told you you’ve been tempting me since day one and I mean it, you don’t even realize how much. If you don’t want to take off your wrap yet, that’s fine, I’ll get Serena to come and help you.”

“No, she’s busy with Rooster,” you shake your head. You take a deep breath. “You can do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod removing your hands from his. Your eyes stare at his white tank top covered chest as your fingers untie the wrap. You continue to stare at the center of his chest as you pull it off your shoulders and he remains silent.

“Damn,” he breathes and you finally look up at his face. His green eyes are widening as he moves over your suit. “As I live and breathe, darlin’ you sure are a sight for sore eyes.”

Your cheeks are burning from revealing your suit and from his words. He reaches behind you to get the sunscreen and he pops it open again. He starts at your shoulders, making sure to rub it in under the straps and over the hills of your breasts. Your heart is hammering and you wonder if he can feel it. His fingers tickle your stomach as he rubs in lotion there, and goosebumps appear when he gets the sides.

“Can you turn around for me?” he asks softly and you do. He squirts more lotion on his hand and starts at your shoulders.

You watch him in the mirror, his face in concentration and you avoid your own gaze in the mirror. He moves your hair over your shoulder and you feel his hand slip down behind the clasp at the center of your back.

“Here,” you murmur and unhook it so the only thing holding your suit up are your hands cupping it to your breasts. Your eyes meet in the mirror, questions burning in both of your gazes but neither of you voices them as he continues to spread sunscreen on your back.

Did his hands get hotter? You try to concentrate on your breathing, the tips of his fingers dip a little below the waistband of your bottoms. More goosebumps, more heat. Part of you wants to remove your top and see what happens, part of you wants him to do it.

To your surprise, Jake hooks the clasp back together and brings your hair back into place.

“Can you do me now?” he asks your reflection.

You nod as you readjust your breasts in your suit so they’re more fitted and you can see Jake watches your every move. The way he’s looking at you fills you with a bit more confidence each time. When you pick up the lotion bottle he yanks off his tank top and turns around, you choke on the air you’re breathing because he’s so tan and muscular. He has freckles on his shoulders and a small birthmark on the very low part of his back. It looks like a heart.

You squire the lotion in your palm and then swipe your hand over his whole back. His muscles tightened and you were mesmerized by the strength of them as you rub in the sunscreen. You make sure to get his shoulders and up into his neck. Your hand curves with his spine as you go lower and get the sides of his stomach. Without even thinking, your nail traces over that birthmark, Jake takes a deep breath.

“Okay, turn around,” you say.

When he does, he crowds your space, his arms caging you in between him and the counter.

“I already got my stomach, can you put some on my nose?” he asks scrunching his nose in indication.

“Yeah,” you bite your lip and put a little more on your two fingers. You stroke your fingers over his nose and onto his chin, pressing the excess under his eyes and onto his ears. When you’re finished, you keep his face held in your hands.

You stare at each other for a second before lips are on lips and you’re somehow on the counter with your legs wrapped around his waist. His body is hard and hot and muscled against yours, his hands pulling you into him, your back bowing so you’re as close as you can be. Your fingers are in his hair and he moves one hand to cup and squeeze your breast. You moan into his mouth and then he shifts the suit down, his thumb and forefinger tweaking your nipple. You moan again and Jake moves his kisses down your jaw and to your neck and then his mouth is covering your breast.

His mouth is hot and his tongue is slick and wet as it circles over your nipple. His teeth dig into the swell of your breast while his tongue flicks and presses on your bud.

“Jake,” you sigh falling against the mirror watching through hooded eyes as he opens his. He keeps his gaze on you as he shifts to your other breast, his hand yanking the suit down. He doesn’t close his eyes until his mouth is on you again, a contented sigh coming from him and you keep your fingers curled in his hair.

The noises he makes as he suckles on you electrifies your blood cells and you need him closer. It’s when you start to grind your hips against him that you yank on his head. His mouth releases your breast with a pop and his eyes are bright green.

“We haven’t–we shouldn’t–” you’re panting trying to get the words out because so many thoughts are racing through your mind.

You’ve opened up to him more, you’re more comfortable with him, you’re sleeping in his bed more frequently but the paperwork and Betty’s health are at the forefront. This is just an arrangement, he’s said you tempt him and he’s been tempting you a lot more too lately.

“You’re right,” he nods but peppers kisses along your breasts before tucking them back into your suit. “We have guests. I got carried away.”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“No need to be sorry, Sugar,” he smiles crookedly and shifts on his feet. “I need a few minutes before I can go back out there.”

Your eyes immediately fly down to his waist where you can see a bulge over the stars and stripes of his suit.

“Oh. Oops,” you bite your lip trying to hide your smile.

“Yeah, oops,” he murmurs, tugging your lip from your teeth into a kiss. He groans when you kiss him back excitedly. “Okay, trouble, time to head out before we’re discovered.”

“You’re the troublemaker,” you tease hopping down from the sink. You pick up your wrap and adjust yourself again.

***

You went back outside and stepped into the pool water, you also needed to cool down after what you and Jake did. The rest were in the pool and Jake jumped in with a big splash then took you in his arms. Rooster started to complain he was hungry an hour later. You were the only one left in the pool floating on one of the floaties Jake bought special for the day.

Rooster and Serena were sitting on the pool steps and Brynne and Phoenix were sitting on the edge talking. You watched Jake as he gathered all of the grill stuff, and he even put on an apron that said ‘Kiss the Chef’. You suck on your drink through your straw watching his arms flex as he cleans the grill, a sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders.

You slip off the floaty and exit the pool just as Serena and Rooster wade in deeper, their fingers loosely linked. Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk towards him, water rolling over your body and when you’re close enough you lean up and peck his lips softly. His eyes flutter and he grins.

“What was that for?”

“Your apron says to kiss the chef, so I did,” you giggle and finish off your drink.

“I’ll kiss you too, Hangman,” Roster makes kissy noises behind you.

“Hard pass, Bradshaw. Go get your kabobs, man,” then he turns his attention back on you. “Did you put more sunscreen on?”

“Yeah, but it won’t work. I’ll still burn,” you shrug then turn around but Jake swats at your ass and you yelp.

You grab another seltzer and the start taking pictures with Serena, Brynne and Phoenix. Jake and Bradley look your way when you all squeal as Coyote does a cannonball in the water. Phoenix and Brynne exit the pool getting cozy at the bar, Brynne even kisses Phoenix’s cheek for a picture.

“That’s good, Brynne is chill compared to the last girl Phoenix was with,” Jake comments.

“Yeah, your Sugar sure is sweetening up our group, ain’t she?” Rooster nudges Jake’s shoulder then goes over to Serena who is struggling with her beer bottle.

When Jake has the food on the grill, he retreats inside to grab the extra plate of watermelon Rhea had cut up for the day. Jake always makes sure she spends holidays with her own family and he brought the plate out to you. You snatch a piece and take a bite, the juice dribbles down your chin and into your cleavage. You hold the piece up to Jake and he takes a bite, juice dribbling down his chin as well.

You giggle then lean on the pool edge to swipe it from his lips. You suck it off your thumb.

“See, you’re trouble,” he cocks his head to the side and starts to stand.

“Leave the watermelon,” you tell him and snatch the floaty. You climb back on and make grabby hands for the plate which he hands you. “Thank you.”

The food is great as you all sit down to eat it and then Rooster runs off to grab the fireworks he brought. He sets them up with the help of Bob. Jake hands you some water because all you’ve had all afternoon are seltzers. The dry heat is really getting to you and your suit is starting to feel uncomfortable which only means one thing.

You’ve got a sun burn.

You sit on Jake’s lap as Bob sets the fireworks off and you start to shiver now that the sun is no longer in the sky. Rooster and Serena were making out as the fireworks lit up the sky. You remember to tell Jake that Serena wants Bradley to ask for her number.

“He’s an idiot, he has no game,” Jake shakes his head, “I’ll tell him.”

Everyone is gone by eleven o’clock and Jake tuts when he sees how red you are as you remove your makeup in his bathroom.

“Sugar, you’re so sunburnt. You didn’t put more on after I did it for you, did you?”

“I did, I swear! But I told you…sunscreen doesn’t work on me for some reason,” you flinch when you dry your face off with the towel.

He sighs heavily. “Take a cool shower and I’ll put aloe on you.”

You do what he says and it hurts when you put on the satin pajama set. The straps are thin but hit your burning skin in just the right way. When you exit the bathroom, Jake is already showered and tugging on the draw strings of his basketball shorts.

“C’mere my little tomato,” he gestures to his bed and you crawl on it delicately. You lay down and lift your shorts up higher on your thighs and the bottom of your shirt. “Sugar…”

“Put it on please,” your body trembles as you shiver some more. Being in the heat all day is finally escaping you as you’re in the controlled temperature of the house.

Jake rubs it on your thighs first, the cooling sensation of the aloe feels wonderful. It’s colder on your stomach, his fingers brush the underside of your boobs but you’re in too much pain to really get excited about it.

“You’re gonna have to take your top off so it doesn’t cling to your skin, that’s not going to feel good,” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to sleep in here if you’re uncomfortable–”

“No, can I please? Your sheets are cooler than mine,” you pout and sit up delicately.

“Of course you can,” he smiles gently. You begin to lift your top off but it pinches at your shoulders and you cry out. “I got it.”

Jake removes it as softly as he can, folds it, places it at the foot of his bed and puts more aloe on his hands. He’s gentle as he rubs it over your shoulders and down your arms. By the time he gets to your back, it’s already dried on your front. He puts some on your hands and more on your chest because that’s where it’s the worst.

“I’m getting you SPF 100 so this doesn’t happen again.” he sets the bottle on his nightstand. Your picture in a small frame.

“It won’t work–” you start to say slipping under his sheets.

“Yes it will. SPF 30 was no help to you, Sugar.”

You sigh as you settle into his sheets, the coolness helps with the aloe but you’re shivering like crazy. Jake grabs your hands and blows on them.

“If you wake up and it still hurts, I’ll put more on you.”

“You don’t mind I’ll be sleeping with my top off?” your teeth chatter.

“Sugar, I wouldn’t mind if you decided to sleep nude,” he kisses your cheek and shuts the lights off.

#an arrangement series #an arrangement #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman fic #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman smut #jake sersin smut #top gun maverick writing #top gon fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman writing #jake seresin writing

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coopigeoncoo · 7 months

Text

The Space Between Stars

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Smoking, Burglary, Home Invasion, First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Domestic Fluff

Written as part of @shibaraki's KOMOREBI Milestone Collab!

---

You thought your terrible day couldn't get any worse, but then you come home and accidentally interrupt a burglary in progress.

What follows is a series of questionable decisions you probably should have thought Twice about.

---

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out. I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you.

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

---

Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

Today has been an awful day.

Not because any single, overwhelmingly bad thing had happened; you had just been worn down by a never ending gauntlet of unfortunate events.

Sometime during the night your phone cord had come unplugged and fully drained your phone battery, which meant that you woke up long after you had set your original and backup alarms to sound. As a result, you didn't have time for breakfast and ended up just using mouthwash instead of stopping to fully brush your teeth, but even that time save wasn't enough to keep you from missing your usual train.

You'd tripped on an uneven patch of sidewalk heading out to lunch and irreparably scuffed up the toes of your favorite dress shoes, and the presentation you had been working for the past two weeks to put together was somehow missing the last; and most integral, set of slides.

The subsequent verbal lashing that your boss and, more embarrassingly, your boss's boss, had given you lasted so long you'd ended up missing the train.

Again.

And as you sought to pass the time waiting for the next train to arrive by messing around on your phone, you discovered that the person you'd been seriously flirting with on the online dating site had suddenly blocked you without notice.

So when the skies opened up on your walk home, pouring down buckets of rain with such force that your skin stung from the impact, you comforted yourself with the knowledge that you could spend the rest of the day holed up in your apartment. You'd slip into some pajamas, snuggle up on the couch with your favorite blanket, and veg out in front of the TV you had scrimped and saved to buy; doing your best to forget that today even happened while you yelled at quiz show contestants for chiming in with incorrect answers. Perhaps you'd even go a step further and spend the commercial breaks on your phone, making wish lists full of products you'd never actually buy- letting yourself indulge in the fantasy of filling your overpriced and miniscule apartment with whatever gadgets and bits of decor that caught your interest.

It wouldn't completely erase your misery, but it was the best you could do on a limited budget and exactly enough energy to shuffle from your bedroom to the living room after you peeled off your drenched work clothes.

But your plans of relaxation were immediately foiled when you opened the door of your first floor apartment and were greeted by the sight of a man in a skintight black and white body suit trying to shove your brand new TV through your living room window; the bottom pane filled with with a spider web of cracks that spread even further with every heaving attempt to shove the flat-screen through the too small opening. He froze when he noticed you, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip as his scruffy jaw dropped open in surprise from your sudden appearance.

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you.

"I'm stealing your TV."

And with that proclamation, your last frayed thread of patience snapped.

"Of course you are!" You laugh, frustrated tears welling up quickly and blurring your vision. "Why wouldn't you be? It's not like my day could get any worse !"

"Hey, now- don't cry!" The man pleaded, thoughtlessly reaching out towards you with shaking hands, the TV nearly crashing to the floor as he released his hold on it; barely managing to catch the corner with a sharp curse and lower it gently to the floor. "I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing- I'm just going to rob you a little !"

"A little? A little?" You shriek, wiping at your wet cheeks in frustration. "You're taking the most expensive thing I own! That feels like an awful lot of robbing to me!"

"That's- that's a fair point," the man conceded, scratching at his exposed chin nervously as he looked around your bare bones apartment with a critical eye; taking note of your collection of second hand furniture and threadbare curtains your old roommate's cat had delighted in shredding.

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," you whimper as you take a step backwards into the breezeway, exhaustion winning out over more situationally appropriate emotions like absolute panic. "Take whatever you want, but I would really appreciate it if you could leave the urn on the bookcase alone. My Grandma is in there."

"I'd never-!" The man gasped, affronted by the implication he'd be despicable enough to make off with a jar full of Grandma dust.

"You're literally in the process of robbing me!" You laugh wetly, wiping your running nose onto your soaking wet sleeve. "I don't think you're allowed to be offended by my assumptions about the quality of your character right now."

"I'm sorry. This isn't- this isn't the kind of person I want to be," the man whispered, his nervously wringing hands tightening into shaking fists. "This is who I have to be."

"Whatever," you huff dismissively. "It doesn't really matter. Close the window on your way out so the rain doesn't soak down to the floorboards."

"You gonna call the cops on me?" The man asked, nervously puffing on the cigarette in his mouth, the pungent clove smoke pulled towards you by the cross breeze; drifting straight into your face and making you recoil.

"I don't live on the right side of the city for the police to care about a stolen TV," you inform him, grimacing at the tinkling sound of the buffeting rain upgrading into hailstones. "I'm just going to duck into a store or something. I'll be back in like, an hour, so it would be great if you could wrap up taking my stuff and be gone by then. It's getting late and I still need to cook dinner."

And with those parting words you gently pulled the door closed behind you and, recognizing the futility of locking a door during an active home invasion; stepped back out into the freezing rain without looking back.

The only store on your block that had bothered to stay open in such terrible weather was a tiny holistic store crammed in between a pawn shop and a seafood market. The shop owner, a serious faced woman with her hair slicked back into a painfully tight looking bun, did her best to cover up the pervasive fish odor that seeped in from the neighboring business by having three oil diffusers running all at once; but the only thing it really accomplished was adding nauseating strong floral notes to the briny air.

You felt bad lingering in her store for so long without buying anything, so after a drawn out production of pretending to consider buying crystals in a variety of cuts and sizes while internally balking at the price tags, you settled on purchasing a mood ring from one of the clearance displays. It had a large band size, too large for your fingers for sure, but it was the only thing that you could afford to purchase now that you'd have to start saving for a replacement TV.

The woman behind the counter was obviously disappointed with your thriftiness, but you pretended to ignore her sourly pursed lips as she thanked you for your business and recommended you return at a later date to have your aura cleansed.

"It's all muddy, you know," she informed you with a disapproving huff, tugging firmly on the stiff collar of her dress shirt to shift it back into place. "An aura that messy will only invite trouble and stress."

In your experience, trouble and stress never needed an invitation, but instead of voicing your thoughts you held your tongue, jammed the mood ring onto your thumb, and thanked her for the concern; snagging a business card in a show of false interest before bracing yourself for yet another slog through the rain.

It wasn't coming down quite so hard anymore, but you were already so thoroughly drenched that the waning storm felt like a meaningless show of mercy from the universe at large; a waste of whatever finite karma you'd accrued during your life thus far.

You'd boldly assumed that coming home to some guy stealing your TV would be the most surprising thing you'd walk in on today, but nothing could match the absolute astonishment you felt when you entered back into your apartment for the second time that evening.

It had been easy to imagine that your place would be a ransacked disaster at this point, electronics long gone and your personal effects scattered around haphazardly as the intruder fruitlessly searched for valuables. Instead, everything was in the same, or better, condition than you'd left it in.

The TV had been returned to its proper place on your third-hand entertainment stand, a large scratch on the side of the frame but seemingly no worse for the wear as the weatherman on screen droned on about the unprecedentedly large storm rolling through the city. The cracked window had been covered In layers of carefully placed packing tape to keep it from shattering completely; a towel spread out on the carpet beneath it to soak up the rainwater that had collected inside during the thief's botched getaway.

All the shoes in your entryway, the ones you normally kicked off and left where they landed, had been lined up in neat pairs next to the coat closet. The blanket you'd left crumpled on your lumpy couch after a quick nap yesterday had been neatly draped over the back of the sofa.

And the thief, who you thought would be long gone by now, had made himself at home in your kitchenette. With a set of mismatched hot pads on his hands he pulled a half sheet pan out of the countertop oven, the telltale aroma of baking bread filling every corner of your small apartment and driving out the lingering stench of cigarette smoke. Desperately, you wondered if he'd noticed your arrival; cautiously rocking back onto your rear foot in preparation for making a quick escape when he called out to you from across the apartment.

"Don't just stand in the doorway," the man chastised as he slid the hot tray down onto the stovetop, a small saucepan set to simmer on the next burner over. "You'll let all the warm air out."

"Uh- yeah. Of course. Sorry," you apologized reflexively, wildly unsure about what to do but deciding that the best course of action is to likely play along and keep the burglar-turned-baker calm. Pushing the door closed with a shaking hand, you did your best to keep your breathing calm and level despite the dread violently roiling in your belly; your sense of self preservation blaring in the back of your mind like a siren.

"Welcome home. Again," the thief greeted pleasantly, the toothpick in his mouth straining under the force of his clenched teeth. "You said you'd be gone for an hour."

"I- I ran out of stuff to do and figured you'd be gone by now. And not, you know- staying to clean up my apartment."

"Yeah," the man laughed, rubbing at the back of his half-masked head nervously; hand still shoved into one of your plaid oven mitts. "This isn't how these sorts of things usually go down."

"Then why did you do it?" You ask with a nervous swallow, the domestic setting making you bolder than the situation would typically dictate. "Stay, I mean?"

"It just- it seemed like you were having a really bad day," the man murmured sheepishly, pulling off the oven mitts one at a time and tossing them down onto a clear swath of counter next to the stove. "And I didn't want to make it any worse."

"Oh."

"This is- so awkward. I'm sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin in frustration. "I wanted to be gone by the time you got back to avoid all of this."

"It's okay," you say, unsure as to how sincere you actually were.

"It's not okay," the man laughed dryly. "I was going to rob you- picking up your living room doesn't make it okay! It doesn't make me okay!"

"You could have done worse."

"I could have," the man nodded solemnly, the action switching to a frantic shaking a moment later. "I wouldn't have."

A realization struck you abruptly. "Tell me a lie," you demanded.

"What?"

You wrench open the coat closet door and reach inside, pulling out a chunky blue scarf; a gift from a close friend during their brief but prolific crocheting phase.

"Say this is red," you said, holding the scarf aloft for him to see. He froze, every one of his muscles set on edge as he stared at the length of knotted yarn in your grasp.

"I don't know what you're trying to prove here. You already know that I can't."

"I just- I want to make sure," you insisted, holding the scarf up a fraction higher. "Please."

"Okay," the man said, deflating as he exhaled in defeat. "The scarf is red. It's obviously blue."

Emboldened by the first successful test of your hypothesis, you stepped further into the apartment, snagging a purple tissue box off of the coffee table with your free hand and holding it up for the man to see.

"And this?"

"Green. It's purple."

Gliding further into your apartment, you deposited the scarf and the tissue box onto the card table you ate your meals at, and grabbed an overripe banana from the bowl of half-rotten fruit you kept replenishing each week; ever hopeful that you'd wake up one day with the self restraint necessary to reach for an apple instead of a bag of chips when you felt snacky.

"This banana?"

"Teal. Black- that's one nasty looking banana!"

"It is, isn't it? I should probably just throw it out," you say with a grimace as your finger hits a soft spot on the peel and sinks down into the goey inner banana flesh.

"Here, catch!" the man called out, tossing a slightly damp dish rag towards you, which you miraculously managed to snatch out of the air.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

It was quiet for a moment while you wiped the mealy banana goo from your finger, digging under your nail with the stiff corner of the towel. "So you can't lie," you mused. "Is that a Quirk thing?"

"May as well be, I guess," the man sighed, turning to examine the squat loaf of bread cooling on your stove top. "I want to go ahead and slice this. You won't freak out if I grab a knife, will you?"

"Depends," you reply evasively with narrowed eyes as he pulled a knife half way out of the knife block, examining the edge with a frown before sliding it back into place. "Do you plan on slicing me up, too?"

"These knives are so dull I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he groused, pulling another knife out for inspection with a dissatisfied frown. "And I don't want to."

Eyes locked on the intruder's back; you lowered yourself down carefully into the closest dining chair; knees weak and mind reeling from the surreal turn your evening had taken. "So you don't want my stuff, and you don't want to hurt me- what exactly do you want?"

"What I want-," the man paused, a triumphant fist pump accompanying his discovery of a serrated blade. "Is for you to try this bread that I made."

"And then you'll leave?"

"I'll leave right now if that's what you want," the man offered, running the scalloped edge across the craggy top crust of the bread and laughing delightedly at the scraping sound it made. "Do you hear that? That's one crispy crust! This loaf is gonna be goooood."

"How did you even make bread, anyway? I know for a fact that I don't have any yeast."

"You don't really have much of anything. Believe me, I checked," the man grinned cheekily over his shoulder at you, as though he thought his confession about rifling through your apartment was charming and not a blatant invasion of privacy. "But lucky for you, I'm well versed in poverty meals. Mix up a basic bread dough, add in a beer where the yeast should be, shove that baby into the oven and you're ready to go! There's a bit more to it than that."

"Well, it smells wonderful. This is probably the best this apartment has ever smelled."

"No kidding! You get a discount for having the unit right above the dumpster?"

"I wish," You sighed forlornly, taking a moment to imagine how much easier your life would be with even a slightly lower cost of living. "But taking out the trash is pretty convenient, I can just drop it in from the fire escape."

"Bowls?" He inquired as he shut the heat off under the saucepan, giving it one final stir.

"Oh- I only have a couple. They're probably on the drying rack."

He salutes you sharply before shuffling off to follow your instructions, carefully selecting and stacking the dishes into his arms like they were valuable pieces of china and not the very worst a home store clearance rack had to offer. You twisted your too-big mood ring anxiously around your thumb, reminding yourself with every turn that the man in front of you, despite his seemingly affable nature, wasn't a guest. He was an intruder in your home, no better than the mice that darted behind your fridge when you turned the kitchen light on in the middle of the night.

Although the mice had never cooked you dinner before, so you suppose that was a point in his favor.

"Careful- careful," the man whispered quietly to himself, inching across the floor towards you with two bowls of soup balanced on his forearm; bracing the overhanging rims with a plate stacked lopsidedly with still steaming bread slices. He gingerly deposited the bowls onto the table, sliding yours to a stop directly in front of you without any of the broth sloshing over the edge; an impressive feat considering that he'd filled it up to the brim.

"Nailed it!" He crowed in pride, tossing the plate full of bread down onto the table unceremoniously, the thick slices nearly bouncing off the plate from his rough handling. Collapsing into the folding chair opposite if you in what could only be described as a sprawl, you watch with thinly veiled interest as he pushes his mask up over the bridge of his nose. Nostrils fully uncovered, he hunches over the bowl of soup and inhales deeply, flapping his hands to fan the aromatic vapors directly towards his face.

"Not too shabby for a can of soup and leftover veggies!"

"Is that what this is?" You ask curiously, giving the soup a small stir, trudging up a floret of seared broccoli that definitely came from takeout earlier in the week.

"Don't be shy now. Dig in!" The man encouraged, placing a large chunk of soup-drenched bread into his mouth with a happy sigh. The soup was perfectly edible, nothing to write home about but still a notable effort considering the meager ingredients your kitchen had to offer. But the bread was a different story entirely.

"This crust is incredible!" You gasp, the dry crumbs sticking to your lips.

"A good dinner for a rainy night," the man stated, holding his half devoted bread slice out towards yours. "Cheers?"

"Cheers!" You laugh, pushing your slice of bread against his; the crusts impacting and sending a dusting of flaky bread crumbs tumbling onto the surface of the table.

"Whoopsy-daisy! I'll get that, don't worry," the man reassured you, licking his finger and tapping it across the table, picking up crumbs as he went.

"'Whoopsy-daisy', huh?" You muse, sipping at a spoonful of soup thoughtfully. "How many kids do you have?"

"Kids? Oh, no- I don't- I don't have any of those," he stammered, shoving his crumb covered finger into his mouth and removing it with a comical pop. "Her name's Himiko."

"That's…quite the discrepancy between those two answers."

"Himiko isn't- she's not mine, mine. But she's mine, you know? In all the ways that should matter."

"So you love her then?"

"Of course I do. She's a great kid."

"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" You smiled sincerely, the first grin of the evening not strained through a filter of worry. The man seemed to notice the subtle shift in your demeanor, the tension in his posture softening ever so slightly as he somehow managed to slouch even farther down in his seat.

It had been a long time since you'd eaten alone with someone. You went out after work with colleagues sometimes, but the places that you always ended up were crowded and noisy; tables and booths crammed to near bursting to accommodate the ravenous waves of dinner rush patrons. The last meal you'd eaten at home with someone was likely before you moved into this apartment, when you still lived off-campus with a couple of roommates you liked progressively less with each passing week.

You'd been beyond thrilled to land a job that paid enough to allow you to live alone, even though affording to do so meant relocating across town to a less desirable zip code. But a slight downgrade in living conditions was well worth the benefit of knowing you'd never again have to live through the experience of walking in on your roommate and their booty call having sex on your bed because it was 'more comfortable' than theirs.

While you would never miss the stacks of unwashed dishes left to putrefy in the sink or having to wipe urine splatters off of the toilet seat before you could relieve yourself, it was hard to deal with the constant quiet sometimes. The drone of the TV couldn't replace someone asking about your day or replicate the joy of shared laughter.

And you couldn't help but wonder if it was a similar situation for the man across from you.

"Is it okay for me to ask your name?" You murmur quietly, eyes locked on your own hands as you push a tomato chunk around your bowl with the back of your spoon. "I understand if you don't want me to know. The less I probably know about you the better, huh? I'm sorry, that was stupid of me. Forget I said anything-"

"Twice. You should call me Twice," the man interrupted; letting out an irritated grunt before opening his mouth once more. "I want you to call me Jin."

Thrown off balance once again by his contradictory requests, your brain races frantically to find some sort of middle ground between the two.

"Do you want me to call you Jin…twice? Like, JinJin?"

"That's a little ah- intimate , dontcha' think?" Jin said, a nervous cough punctuating his sentence sharply. He pulled the bottom edge of his mask down further, trying to cover up the tell-tale embarrassed burn of his cheeks without compromising his ability to eat. "Just Jin is fine."

"Alright. Thank you for the meal, Jin. This is a much nicer dinner than I would have put together for myself, even if I hadn't been delayed by some guy breaking into my apartment," you joked, sending a pointed look Jin's way; politely averting your eyes and pretending not to notice his splotchy blush creeping even further down his cheeks.

"A burglar, huh? Sounds like a real heel."

"Maybe," you murmured thoughtfully as you watched Jin try and cram an entire slice of bread into his mouth at once. "But I don't think he's all that bad."

Jin, having gone back for a second serving of soup, was the last to finish eating. You swooped in and grabbed his bowl before he could object, placing it on the counter as you waited for the sink to finish filling so you could begin washing the dishes.

"You don't have to do that," Jin grumbled from his position behind you, standing close enough for you to feel him nervously shuffling from foot to foot. "I can clean up after myself. "

"Nope, sorry. It's the house rules," you sighed forlornly, acting as though you weren't the sole person responsible for making those rules. "If you cook, you don't clean up."

"Is there anything else I could do? Help you out a little more?"

"I guess you could help me dry?" You offer, scooting over slightly to make room for him in your tiny kitchen area.

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Jin saluted as he slotted into place next to you, grabbing the dripping wet cup you offered out to him with one hand and picking up a dry dishrag with the other.

The sounds of clinking cutlery and the slow but steady dripping of your faucet worked together with the rumbling storm outside to craft a peaceful atmosphere; one that helped soften the sharp edges of reality and allowed you to gloss over the fact that you were having a very pleasant time with the man who had started out the evening with the intention of robbing you blind.

It was reckless and stupid, but you couldn't help but worry a little about what would happen to Jin once he left your apartment. If he was desperate enough to resort to theft for some quick cash, you couldn't help but wonder and worry about what sort of life awaited him outside of the cramped comfort of your home.

"Are you going to be okay? Once you leave?" You ask, prying up a stubborn piece of dried food from the tines of a fork with your fingernail.

"That's one heck of a loaded question!" Jin laughed sharply. "The world is an absolute mess right now, society is on the brink of collapsing in on itself- I don't think anyone is going to be okay for a long, long time."

"Yeah, but- there's nothing I can do about any of that stuff," you sigh quietly, watching the small bubbles on the surface of the water swirl around your wrists. "But I can help you, if you need it. I probably have enough money to put you up at a hotel for the night. Keep you out of the storm."

"You're too kind," Jin murmured quietly, his voice heavy with appreciation. "But I don't want you to worry about me, okay? Things are…difficult right now. But it won't last forever."

"I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not optimism," Jin said, placing the last plate into the drying rack next to the sink and passing you the dish towel to wipe your hands on.

"What is it then?" You asked, unable to fully dry your hands on the wet cloth, so you settled for simply wiping off the lingering film of bubbles from the back of your hands.

"Experience,” he said, scratching thoughtlessly at the scruff growing unevenly across his exposed jaw. “My life has always been- well, bad. Mostly. I used to really hate that. Thought it wasn't fair. But now I don't mind so much."

"Why not?"

"Well, eventually I realized that the bad times I went through made all the good things in my life seem even better," he said, turning his head to gaze out of your taped up window, as though he would be able to see the sky and not the moldering plaster exterior of the apartment complex next to yours. "Stars wouldn't be anything special if it wasn't for all that dark space between em', you know?"

You thought back on your day, on the series of disastrous events that had weighed you down soured your disposition, and how now; with the passage of time and the balm of Jin's companionship, the day didn't feel quite so dreadful in retrospect.

"I hope you saved room for dessert," you smiled, turning to riffle through a cabinet for the small package of cookies you kept tucked away for emergencies.

"Thanks, but I'm still full from dinner. There's always room for a treat or two!"

The bag of cookies, already half empty from propping you up emotionally during the dramatic season finale of the show you'd binged last weekend, didn't last long. But you and Jin did your best to stretch out the warm comfort of the evening as long as you could; chatting over the commercials as the emergency weather broadcast came to a conclusion.

"Welcome back, viewers!" A man with slicked back hair and an unfortunate mustard colored blazer greeted as the title card for the incoming show disappeared from the screen. "You're tuned in to 'Top 10 at 10', the show where we look back at the week's top moments from the Top Ranked Heroes! Next up is the Winged Hero: Hawks, swooping in for a rescue-!"

"Ugh," you groan, patting the couch cushions around you in search of the remote. "Is the controller over by you? I want to change the channel."

"Nope, no controller," Jin said, his focus solely on the TV as the Number Two Hero crashed through a window on the top most floor of a burning apartment building. "So, you're not a Hawks fan I take it?"

"Hawks gives me weird vibes," you admit, lifting up a throw pillow to peer down into the space next to the arm of the sofa as Hawks waved casually on the screen, a shaking Pomeranian tucked securely under his arm as he floated to the ground. "I don't trust people who always smile. It feels like they're trying to hide something."

"You're a good judge of character, aren't you?" Had you been less focused on your frantic search for the remote you would have noticed Jin's uncomfortable fidgeting and repeatedly clenching fists, but you'd missed those telltale signs that preceded a shift in his personality. So the sudden appearance of that voice, the brash one you'd grown accustomed to hear chiding and correcting Jin's half-truths, was unnerving. You wondered how loud his unspoken thoughts must be for that second voice to feel the need to comment on Jin's internal dialogue.

"I used to think so," you laugh dryly, the hand you'd been using to fish around in the couch coming up with a fistful of crumbs and an old tin of forgotten breath mints. "But recent events definitely have me reevaluating that assumption about myself."

"You shouldn't-," Jin swallowed thickly, carefully considering his words; weighting them for sincerity lest he stray too far off the line of authenticity and unwittingly reveal too much. "Don't make me be the reason you doubt yourself. I'll take the blame for all sorts of stuff, but I don't want that to be on me, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, once again fumbling to regain your emotional footing. Talking with Jin was like walking across a messy room with your eyes closed, constantly tripping up and unsure of what caused you to even stumble in the first place.

"I mean, if you can't trust yourself, then who can you trust?" Jin asked, his voice only just beneath a bellow and pulled thin at the edges; a manic sort of cry that poorly covered his underlying distress. "I can't trust myself anymore!"

"You can’t?"

"No. I- I broke that trust. I broke myself."

Carefully, you lower yourself down on the cushion next to him; a vulnerable place for an unguarded moment. "I know that it probably doesn't mean much of anything coming from me- we're pretty much strangers," you admit with a helpless sort of shrug, extending a hand out towards him like you would a cowering animal; slowly, carefully, like you half expected to be bitten for your trouble. "But I trust you."

"You don't know me. I don't even know if I'm me," he admits with a watery sniff, accepting your outstretched hand with his shaking fingers.

"This Jin, this you- ," you emphasize with a tight squeeze of your hand. "-is the only one I know. And I happen to think he's pretty alright."

"Even for a bad guy?"

"You're the best bad guy I know," you assure him readily, the words somehow playful despite their sincerity. But it seems like Jin was looking for a way out of the mire of introspection he'd waded into and quickly took the metaphorical hand you'd extended; lifting himself out of his head with a breathy chuckle.

"I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"A terrible thief, but an excellent chef."

"Guess I missed my calling in life!" He grinned brightly, sucking up the bead of snot dripping from his nose.

"It's never too late to change."

"It is for me."

You waited anxiously, almost desperately for that second voice to cry out in objection, but the room remained silent except for the canned laughter piping in through the TV speakers. Whatever path Jin was on offered him no alternative, no deviation from the bumpy road beneath his feet.

"Earlier, you told me that this isn't who you want to be. That this is who you have to be."

"Who I need to be. Who they need me to be."

"Will you do something for me?" You asked, easily sliding the mood ring off of your thumb and spinning it between the fingers of your free hand. "One last favor and we'll call it even?"

"Of course," Jin nodded solemnly as his chest puffed up; proud to be entrusted with carrying out a task for you.

"When you have the chance, I want you to make the choice you want. Be the Jin you want to be," you pleaded, sliding the mood ring easily onto his much larger pointer finger.

"This like a promise ring or something?"

"I suppose," you hum thoughtfully. "But only if you promise."

He held the ring up in front of his face, watching the colors swirl and shift rapidly across the gleaming black stone; far more active than it had been on your own hand. Jin clenched his fist, locking the ring onto his finger like he was scared it might tumble from his grasp and disappear into the unknown abyss alongside your remote, never to be seen again. You couldn't see his eyes, only the expressive patterning on his mask that managed to contort with his fluctuating disposition, but there was a sudden weight upon your shoulders that let you know that you were the sole object of his intense focus.

Jin lifted his ringed hand into the air between you, splaying his fingers wide in front of your face. The dark, swirling gem of his ring glimmering merrily from the vicinity of your forehead, a third eye for Jin to take with him; an eye that would see him in the way he craved- as the Jin that existed solely in your gaze.

"I promise."

The night, as all things, could not last forever. But you were unprepared for the abrupt way that Jin threw himself up from the couch when the late night News broadcast cut to live coverage of a crime in progress; a patch-skinned man cackling in delight as he threw bright blue flames from the back of a speeding van at pursuing police vehicles.

"That idiot, " he hissed, patting his sides and butt like he was checking for keys or a phone that were very obviously not tucked into his spandex suit. "I have to go."

"Oh ," you manage to say through the clenching knot of dismay that had tied itself up in your chest. “Will you come back?"

"I- I shouldn't," he whispered, regret palpable in every syllable. "I want to."

Hastily, you stumbled to your feet and strode across the living room, grabbing the ceramic urn you had on prominent display before circling back and stopping directly in front of Jin.

"Here,” you said, pushing the vase firmly into Jin's arms. “Take this.”

"For the last time, I'm not going to take your Grandma!" Jin cried in exasperation, pushing the floral patterned urn back into your arms.

"Please," you snorted, lifting off the lid and pulling out a small plastic bag of gray ashes, shaking it back and forth in the air. "This isn't actual people powder. It's a bunch of charcoal ash I grabbed from my neighbor's grill."

"Then why do you-?"

"I'm not totally naive," you said, hooking your hand on the rim of the urn and gently jostling it, the tell tale clinking of coins echoing from inside. "Every burglar grabs a piggy bank, but very few think to check a jar of apparent human remains."

"I can't take your savings," Jin protested weakly, staring down longingly at the handfuls of bills scattered amongst the change. "I'm not gonna steal from you."

"Of course you're not. First of all, this is a gift ," you emphasize, pushing the urn more firmly against his chest. "And second, this isn't for you."

"It's not?" Jin asked bewilderedly, twisting his head around to check if a second criminal had snuck into the apartment while he was distracted.

"Nope. This is for Himiko," you explained, letting go of the vase and stepping back so Jin had no choice but to tighten his grip on the money jar or let it crash to the ground. "Buy her something nice, okay? And treat yourself while you’re at it."

"I- I will," he promised, unable to refuse your gesture if it meant securing some measure of comfort for Himiko. Tucking the urn safely into the crook of his arm, Jin tugged his mask down; obscuring his face fully for the first time. It was impressive how much that narrow swath of exposed skin had been carved into your memory in such a short span of time. Even now, through the cover of a mask, you could still make out the small hints of Jin that lay beneath; the jut of his chin, the set of his jaw, the jittery way he clicked his teeth together.

With a grace you wouldn't expect of a man his size, he slipped towards the patched up window, prying up the frame and squeezing an entire leg out onto your fire escape before he noticed your bewildered expression.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You- you don't have to sneak out the window," you explained, pivoting your body to point towards the entryway. "You can just use the door."

"Right! The door! Of course!" Jin laughed, smacking himself in the forehead as he pulled his leg back into your apartment, hopping clumsily on one foot until his appendage was fully free. "Forgot that you had one of those."

"Well, I hope you don't forget again," you chastise playfully, guiding him out of your front door and into your apartment breezeway. "Because I sure would appreciate it if you'd knock next time."

"Next time?" Jin asked, voice hitching hopefully at the invitation.

"Bye, Jin," you smiled, giving him a small wave as you slowly closed the door. "See you later!"

"Right," he murmured, staring down at his fluctuating mood ring, a smile creeping along his face as white specks scattered across the dark blue stone; like stars glimmering brilliantly in the dark night sky. "Later."

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x self insert #pigeoncoos🕊#mha x gender neutral reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bubaigawara jin x reader #jin bubaigawara x reader #twice x reader #twice x you #twice x y/n

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neet-elite · 6 months

Text

KINKMAS; PRETTY LIGHTS — FT. ALEX

Pairing: Alex / Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 7,569 Warnings: Established relationship, breeding, creampie, drool/saliva, cunnilingus, cervix sex, size difference, restraints, petname "mommy", petname "daddy" Synopsis: It’s your first Christmas together with Alex as a married couple! Sharing traditions with each other is fun, especially when it comes to decorating the Christmas tree with an amalgamation of collected trinkets. However, there’s something in the air that has Alex acting up. The domesticity of the day getting to his head — and his pants. Makes you wonder what’ll end up more decorated by the end of the night, right?

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most “recent” that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

There’s no doubt in his mind now that his blushed cheeks and high temperature are just a result of your warm farmhouse, the cold winter wind leading you to hike the degrees up a notch or two despite his playful flirts of reassuring you that he’ll warm you up another way. The lewd connotations of his suggestion merely a jest — until now. No longer can he simply blame the thermostat, sweating profusely as he sits patiently on your living room couch as you gather all the components necessary for decorating the tree of the Winter Star. You’re sat nicely on the floor, sifting through buckets of baubles and trinkets, scrutinising his own collection of ornaments for the tree with keen eyes. He thinks you’re just the cutest thing ever, and he has half a mind to put you atop the tree since he’s been adamant from the start that out of all the options you shine the brightest.

But see, that’s exactly his issue right now. You’re cute. Too cute. And it’d be a shame if he had to go and ruin the peaceful domesticity of the day just because he can’t keep his hormones in check, so he tries his hardest to stay wholesome. Does his best to remain on good behaviour despite how difficult it is when so much new is happening around him, butterflies fluttering in his tummy and chest in sheer adoration for what he sees before him. New wife, new traditions, new meaning to his once lonely celebrations and maybe, by the end of the night, a new family to care for. Fuck, he can’t help himself, imagining his future with you on such a special occasion. The love he holds for you easily turned into lust with how excited he is to share the holiday with you, tutting in frustration as his palm automatically grinds against his cock in secret — you’re too busy with picking the shiniest trimmings.

Though thankfully you pull him out of his self serving thoughts before he’s even half hard, head cocked cutely to the side as if the universe was working against him. Stop that, it’s unfair how pretty you are, he thinks. But instead, all the comes out is a short hum matched with a warm smile, letting you know that he’s attentive and listening. And a stop of his hand, resting it atop his thigh instead so that you don’t catch him acting like a pervert.

“What do you think? Silver or red?” You innocently ask, holding up both colours of tinsel for him to pick between. He’s never been the type to care much for the particulars of decorating, but it’s different now that it’s with you. So he pauses for a moment, as if deeply considering the two choices before deciding. “Definitely silver.” He nods, standing to stretch a hand out towards you. You take it and he holds tight, helping you lift to your feet so that he can help wrap the tinsel around the tree. A small act of loving service, though one he hopes will get his mind off the thoughts of breeding you to stay warm. That’s it, he just want to warm you up, look after you. Totally isn’t some sort of lewd personal desire, no.

It’s cute how excited you get at decorating, how every little detail has to be perfect before moving on to the next. He’s already helped you set up the tree itself, being sure to follow your every instruction on how to position each individual fern of the whole damn thing without a single word of annoyance. Because it’s you, and his heart skips a beat at the sight of you so giddy and concentrated. It makes all the bossing around worth it. He’d do anything for you, you know? His little wife, happily helping with whatever you need simply because it’s now his job to always have you smiling. And, though he’d never admit it out loud, he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of it so far. Softly laughing with you as he spins you once to the cheesy stereotypical christmas songs you have faintly playing in the background, big strong arms helping to keep you steady enough as he twirls you to the tree.

“My wife.” He bows after reaching the tree in the corner of your living room, standing upright after his excessive show with both palms facing up in a seeking of the tinsel. It still feels novel, the whole wife thing. But God does it feel good, his chest tight with affection when you playfully giggle at his silly display.

He doesn’t have many traditions himself, though he’s always been a fan of Evelyn’s cookies around this time of year. It’s not that he doesn’t care per se, but more that he hasn’t had much of a reason to care for these celebrations. This time of year always leaving him with a somewhat sour taste in his mouth, missing his mother more than he’d like to admit. But when he watches you with stars in your eyes and bright rosy cheeks as you plan how to best lay some admittedly cheap sparkly string around an obviously fake winter tree he can’t help but feel a little hope in his heart.

“My dear husband.” You play back, and it’s hard to ignore the twitch in his pants at the title you give him. The tickle of the decorative tinsel only causing him to blush some more as you hand it to him, keeping hold of the other end to yourself and leaving him hoping that you think nothing more of his tinted cheeks than the heat of your home. But still the nagging feeling of lust remains, the inherently lewd experience of spending time together with you as an official family. Has him wanting to add to it, you know? Increase the members of your new familial unit in the spirit of giving, regardless of how preoccupied with decorating you are.

“Here?” He questions, kneeling and pointing at the bottom of the tree as a good place to start. He trusts your judgement more than his own on what looks good, and shaking his head to rid the dirty thoughts from his head has barely been working, so he attempts to distract himself with your voice.

“Mhm.” You merely reply, too busy standing on your tippy toes to reach the highest point of the tree to see how the tinsel drapes best. It causes him to smile, knowing that the roles should be reversed given his bigger stature, but he amuses himself by watching you struggle for a few moments. If anything it helps his cock calm a little, busy watching you with heart eyes, content in the cute moment of bliss with the family he has. Though short lived as it is seeing as it doesn’t take you long before you plead down at him with big puppy dog eyes, his heart hurting in love at the sight.

“All right, all right.” He sighs, feigning annoyance as he gets back to his feet with his hand finding its way to your hip to rub absentmindedly at. “What seems t'be the problem, Missus Mulner?” His big cheesy grin heard well through his words. Still so novel calling you as such, heart fit to burst with the affection he holds for you. And It’s not that he isn’t already aware that you need his height for help, but rather that he’s having so much fun just being with you that he’s trying to prolong the night, stretch the time he has with you around himself so that it never ends. His cute little wife, needing his help. He’d do anything for you.

You playfully huff at his faked innocence and instead hand him your end of the decorations, sighing before standing on your tippy toes again, your back pressed to his chest as he situates himself directly behind you. It’s just so that he has a better idea of where you want it, he tells himself. Absolutely not so that he’s inevitably closer to you by any means, no. “Here.” You advise, directing him on where to start the tinsel trail. Reaching as high as you can and yet it’s still not enough, and he has to will himself not to buck into your ass as you bounce against his cock. Please don’t get hard, he begs himself, biting on his lower lip to try and concentrate on the task at hand despite your insistence on trying to reach that which you cannot. And God, it certainly isn’t just the heat anymore. The air of sex hanging thick in the no space left between his body and your own, blood rushing to his cock in defiance of his wants to just help. Your little jumps and bounces riling him up, coaxing him slowly but surely to give in to his desires as his hips twitch with want to roll against you—

“Oh! And I’ll go get the lights!” You announce, satisfied with your directions and promptly leaving him all alone to tend to the tree.

Ah, how he wants for you to tend to his cock instead.

There’s a part of him that’s convinced that you know what you’re doing, right? You must, keeping him teased on the precipice of giving him everything he wants, stringing him along in some sort of faux wholesome holiday game to test his limits. Well, if that’s the case, he’ll be sure to win one way or another. Coughing to hide the groan of frustration that slips as you leave his side, doing his best to remember every instruction you’ve given him besides the fat of your ass rubbing his cock and regrettably leaving him unable to recall much of anything but that feeling. Still, he tries. Throwing the sparkly string around the tree in what he thinks is a pretty enough job of things, leaning back to check in on you to see how you’re getting on with the monumental decision of which lights to pick. He says red. You say white. He says why not both? You agree.

You place one set of string lights to the side before marvelling at his tinsel work, the slight giggle you let out warming to his already red hot ears. “Looking good!” You compliment, fixing only a few areas to make sure it’s all settled properly. He loves you. God he loves you, happy to hear that you’re satisfied with his attempt at appeasement. Makes him think that you’ll be so good as a mother too, easily imagining tiny footsteps surrounding your beaming face that’s currently directed at him. Mommy Mulner. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? You turn to face him, white lights in hand and for a moment he’s stunned, both by how pretty you look when surrounded by the turned on lights and in awe of his imagination of you as a mother. You suit the title well. “Thanks for helping, ‘Lix.” You hum, calling him from his indulgent thoughts. “Lemme try and do these myself, kay? Since you helped so well with the tinsel and all.” You tease, winking his way to set his heart aflutter.

“Oh yeah?” He plays back, stepping away from the you and back to his seated position on your comfy couch. “Kay, good luck honey.” Ending his taunt with a whistle as you’re already trying to stretch to read the top of the tree, his gaze soft with affection as you giggle and huff to yourself with the light hearted mood settled in the room.

Which is exactly why he shouldn’t spoil things by staring at your ass as your back faces him, one of his arms stretching out against the top length of of the couch while the other rests against his inner thigh — cock quickly hardening at the mental image of you surrounded by two kids. His kids, spending precious christmas time together as a family. Not that he doesn’t appreciate you as his family right now, no! He loves you beyond words, so much so that he wants to add to the family with you. You’d make the best mother, he thinks. All soft and caring, he’s seen just as much from first hand experience. And fuck, the thought of grabbing your pretty little ass in his much larger palms to have you sit square on his cock is tempting to say the least. Watching with half-lidded eyes as you twist and turn around the tree, keeping his mouth shut as the pretty lights start to dangle from your frame in the cutest way possible, his gaze hazy under how dazzling you become. His pants tight at the sight of seeing you so lit up. More than the tree is at this point, if he’s honest.

And then you stumble. His reaction speed quick but not quick enough, a soft thud resounding in the room before he’s able to make it to you in time as you let out a short oof.

“Fuck- Babe, are y'all right?” He rushes, words short and snappy in his worry over your wellbeing. Anxious with upset that he couldn’t save you. Or at least he is until you let out a light laugh, shying away from his helping hands with rosy cheeks.

“Alex, love, I’m fine.” You pause briefly, looking around your immediate surroundings. That’s right, while you might not be hurt, you’re certainly in a sticky situation aren’t you? The many twists and turns you’ve done in an effort to make the Winter Star tree as pretty as possible instead resulting in a very decorated you, the lights tangled and bonding you together. It’s pretty. He’s dazzled. “Could use some help though.” You sheepishly smile, and his cock twitches in return.

“Yeah, yer no kiddin’.” He nods, jaw tight with restraint as he tries to get the thought of seeing you all tied up like this on the bed out of his mind, focusing on anything other than the way the strings dig into your soft skin to leave light marks in their wake. “Gimmie a sec.” He huffs, hovering over your half sitting frame to try and find the start of the tangle, though it’s difficult as your arms are bound together, legs left a little more free as the majority of the knotting resides around your back. Causes him to have to press further into you, cautious of how hard his cock has gotten from merely looking at you, doing his absolute most to not let his tip graze against you but it happens as he reaches behind to help de-tangle anyway. Course it does, his actions clumsy due to his size. An immediate moan rising to his throat at the feeling, one that he’s unable to keep quiet despite his best efforts.

And then there’s a pause. Both in his actions and your breath, a small dusting of pink on your cheeks when you realise what’s going on.

“Oh.” You let out and his heart stutters. Swallowing to try and wet his dry throat as he takes in your shocked expression.

“Fuck- Look, m'sorry. It’s jus’- Jus’-” Just what? He asks himself. Just that he loves his pretty little wife and wants to knock her up as an expression of that love. Just that he thinks you’re the cutest thing to ever grace this Earth, so pretty with the tacky decorative lights wrapped around your smaller than his body as you peer up at him with big eyes. Just that he wants to ruin you where you sit, knowing that you’re unable to free yourself from the stupid string you’ve wound yourself up in, having to fight the primal urge to take advantage of the situation in favour of wanting to let you enjoy the harmless fun the night offers. “Jus’ need ya.” He confesses, head hung low at his shameless want for you, the kind of confession that can only exist within the meagre space left between his lips and your own at his trying to free you.

“Well, It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You tempt him, lopsided grin on your face drawing him closer, his own mouth hung open at how brazen you’re being. All previous self restraint seemingly fading with your sweet coax, the knowing that you won’t be able to escape his affections causing his hips to twitch into you, cock pressing insistently to your tummy to show you how serious he is. “Don’t joke like that.” He huffs, though the roll of his hips into you is enough to tell that he’s seriously considering it despite his words. “Been so hard all day jus’ lookin’ at'cha.” His voice tense, words terse as you do naught but grin back at him.

“I’m being serious.” You assure, wiggling around in your lit up restraints like a gift meant only for him. He’s too eager to unwrap you, fingers itching to touch that your words give him permission to. One arm keeping him held up while the other brushes tenderly against your exposed shoulder, your tank top doing little to keep you safe from his perversion. And then he stares at you, one brow cocked as if questioning, panting against your lips as his eyes flit down to them once, back to your eyes, gazing at your bedroom look and then back down to your lips for just a mere second before his leaking cock convinces him to dive in. Accepting your want just as much as his own. Giving in to how easy you make it for him, the soft squeal his surprise attack causes you to make in turn causing his pants to tighten, the arm keeping him up starting to tremble under the weight of you. How sweet you are, how overwhelmed he already feels from just a small peck. Cocky looks good on you, he thinks, and he’s nothing if not a giver. And so he gives, tongue slipping out to run along your lips, delving into your mouth the second you gasp at his actions. He just wants to make you feel good, show you how pretty you are by way of letting his cock rub against your tummy, a hard reminder of how much he loves you while his mouth is too busy to verbally do so.

It’s obvious anyway. While he strives to remain calm and collected it’s simply impossible with how tight his tummy feels, lust pooling there as his kisses almost immediately turn sloppy. A whole days worth of restraint finally snapping as he openly sighs into you. Wet smacks ringing in his ears, his tongue greedy as he drips saliva down your throat. All while the hand that was on your shoulder dips down to your hip, holding your waist protectively with a few squeezes here and there when your tongue glides back against his own. Goosebumps swarm his otherwise heated skin when you match his passion, your half seated position quickly crumbling as he leans closer towards you during the kiss, effectively pinning you beneath him for him to admire. Stopping his loving assault just to fully appreciate the sight of your kiss bruised lips and flushed cheeks, watching as your chest heaves and strains against your makeshift restraints.

You’re gonna be the death of him and you barely even mean to.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask slightly out of breath, and when paired with the pleading eyes you send his way he almost whines in hunger, wanting only to provide for you and even the suggestion that he isn’t causes his heart to ache.

He doesn’t reply immediate. Dazed for a moment, completely hypnotized by the sight of the love of his life splayed out so pliantly and prettily before him. A better meal than even the Feast of the Winter Star could ever hope to offer. “I love ya.” He just had to tell you. “Love ya s'much.” He mumbles, slurring with the taste of your lips as if it were addictive, leaning back down to plant a few chaste kisses to your cheeks and smiling against you as he feels you lean into them. Only when he’s satisfied that he’s marked enough of your skin with his saliva does he push off you again, looking down at you while chewing on his lip. He wants you, but equally he doesn’t want to make this day about him and his needy cock that begs for your attention even now, throbbing in his pants when you just knowingly stare back at him.

“Can I show ya? How much I love ya, I mean…” He trails off, voice small and subdued to show that you can say no, he wouldn’t mind. In spite of the way his cock aches, anyway.

“Please do.” You sigh, all happy and content, as if you’ve been waiting for this all night too. As if you really did know what you were doing to him, you minx. Fat globs of precum roll from his tip to stain his underwear at your almost confession. “Fuck-” His eyebrows furrow with his words. “How long…?”

“Since you got here.” You cut him off, confident smile on your sticky with saliva lips, reading his mind before he gets to finish with have you wanted to fuck?

Well, now that the air is clear and he’s free from any and all guilt in regards to ruining this special occasion he allows his cock to finally control his brain. Growling down at you in a mix of frustration and appreciation, wishing you’d have said something sooner but adoring the little games you play with him regardless. No longer having to hold out and last against his cock — which he always seems to lose to anyway when it comes to you anyway. His thighs absolutely soaked with pre as he repositions himself, his tip rubbing lightly against his clothing in a way that has his teeth gritting together. Whatever his girl wants she gets, and so he lands his eyes on your core, wetting his lips once before leaning back on his knees, dropping his hands to the hem of your shorts that are only slightly tangled up, easily dragging them down your legs enough to allow him entry to your cunt. Though the sight of your panties sticky to your slit has his heart caught in his throat, lungs temporarily struggling to catch up at the reveal of how much you adore him too. And your soft sigh, so sinful and sweet and made only for him. Drives him insane hearing your small appreciation, cock rock hard and tenting his pants to leave a visible print for you to enjoy.

“May I?” He seeks consent before touching you properly, tugging your panties down to match your shorts before his eyes gaze solely upon your now exposed pretty cunt without so much as flicking up to meet your own stare. Can’t help himself, in love with your little slit — can’t expect him to not look at it, can you?

“You may.” You almost whisper, shivering into his touch as he places both palms on your inner thighs, slowly pushing them open to reveal your dribbling hole.

Fuck, you weren’t kidding when you admitted to thinking about him all day, thighs positively shining with how much slick coats them, your pretty clit puffy and cute at his lack of attention. Instantly he gulps, swallowing to rid his bod of the last nerves as his thirst for you only seems to grow now that he has you somewhat naked and vulnerable. One of his hands digging under your shirt now while the other keeps your legs open, flipping your top up as much as the string lights allow so that he gets to see more of you, love on more of you. The sight of your tummy briefly causing his brain to turn dumb, filled only with thoughts of seeing it all big and round, cute mommy carrying his future children. Shit, he wants to knock you up so bad. Fuck a Winter baby into you, become a father on this fateful Star night. But first, he’d like to eat. A special treat for his special girl, a small gift he’d happily offer again and again, not just for the nights celebrations.

Eagerly he drops his upper half lower, worming his way between your legs and wedging his shoulders between your knees so that they’re forced to rest on them, humming at the way you immediately lock them behind his neck. You can’t move much, though your lower half is more free, slowly shifting around in his hold as he teasingly dips his head down, lifting your ass up off the wooden floorboards of your home so that your slit is easier for his mouth to reach. His tongue already hangs out before he’s met your cunt, huffing hot breaths against your slit to cool you down a little. “Lix-” You whine gently at his flirting, and the needy tone of his nickname falling from your lips is enough to kick him into gear, his nose buried against your clit while his tongue laps up at the excessive of slick coating your slit. Right away he mumbles “Taste s'good-” against you, and God does he mean it — he’d happily spend forever between your legs if you’d let him just so that he can drink your slick up at a moments notice. Sweeter than anything he’ll experience at the feast, better than granny Evelyn’s cookies, and that’s a high compliment coming from the man who regularly eats them. And it only takes a single taste to have him acting up too, cock painfully hard as he licks up and down your slit, nudging his tongue between your folds to slurp away at your hole to force those cute whines to continue to rise from your throat. Ever the pleaser, he wraps one arm around your thigh so that his thumb can reach your clit while pinning you in place to his lips, the other arm kept under your ass to keep you supported enough while he eats you out mid-air. And man eats, all sloppy and full of saliva, dropping excess drool against your slit just for him to lap up again on a second pass, his thumb barely providing enough friction with how focused he is on eating you out that you have to wiggle to get more of his attention, his brows knitted in concentration as he does his best to multitask but fuck it’s difficult when his tongue slips into your hole to drink straight from the tap. Lewd sucks and harsh gulps huffed against your cunt as he picks up on your increasing in pitch whines, all choked and raspy as his thumb flicks them out of you, stroking tight circles against your clit the way he knows makes you feel best. Happy to hear this his pussy drunk attitude has you reeling, bucking your hips against his lips as his cock bobs in his pants for attention, aching, pulsing under how open you are about how good he makes you feel and really — that’s what turns him on the most. Seeing the fruits of his labour come to fruition in every little moan he tongue fucks out of you, the writhing about he forces you to endure with your arms tied tight against your sides, keeping you locked to his lips even as you warn him of your upcoming orgasm with a drawl of his name that sounds like music to his ears.

He’ll drink that too.

More than anything he wants to provide for you. The ego boost he gets from hearing you cry his name as he swallows every bit of slick your cunt offers him, lapping at your cunt like a man starved — it’s all he wants. And, by extension, he wants so badly to provide for a family with you too. Helping you reach your first orgasm of the night with flicks of his thumb against your cute clit, humming lowly into your hole with his tongue fucking in and out of you to get you nice and wet for him — as if you weren’t enough already — and loosening you up a bit before he splits you in two on his fat cock. He’s also just partaking in a bit of self indulgence, having the time of his life eating you out and drinking you down.

He knows you’re cumming when you start humping his face as much as possible with the restraints, his thumb releasing your clit in favour of digging his nails into your skin, soon replacing the stimulation you briefly lacked with his tongue, rolling it over your clit to help you fully enjoy your orgasm while you pant his name over and over again. “That’s it-” he unlatches from your cunt, licking his lips with a lewd slurp as he lets you down gently, placing your ass back on the floor for the wood to soak up that which he missed. “Good fuckin’ girl.” His voice a low growl, exposed want for you on full display as he sucks his thumb clean too, making sure to keep eye contact with you as he does so regardless of how hazy and dazed you look, just so you can see just as much as feel how much he loves you. Speaking of which, his cock is simply begging to be inside you already, because while looking after you and providing you with the princess treatment is so much fun for him too, he’s been so hard for so long for you, his pants absolutely ruined with the amount of precum you’ve already teased out of him. And you’ve not even touched him yet! He’s just that pussy whipped for you.

“Ready fr'more? Please.” He begs. No matter how hard he tries to keep his cool he can’t, not when it comes to you. Pathetically palming over his too hard erection that quickly turns to harsh tugs at his clothed tip, openly panting above you as his eyes squeeze shut briefly into the feeling of at last — some stimulation. “Cause- m'sorry, but- Can’t wait much longer.” He confesses, a bit more honestly this time as you lightly laugh at his impatience. Well, he’s been patient all day, hasn’t he? You can’t blame him for rushing now that you’ve given him permission, like a dog who doesn’t know how to pace himself.

“I’m yours, Alex. Your wife.” You reassure him, lazily smiling at him with the bliss of the orgasm his tongue fucked out of you, acting as innocent as possible at the mention of the wife tag, though surely you can see the immediate effects it causes him as he almost falls over you with cock in hand. “Do as you please.” And he wonders if you realise the ramifications of your consent the moment you speak it, or if it takes you a second to catch up to the sudden mood change as he practically tears his shorts from his frame to slap his fat cock against your puffy little cunt, precum sticking to your stomach as he fucks it forward against you out of instinct. What he wants to do is fuck a baby into you. To impregnate you with his seed. Are you giving him permission to act so carelessly?

“You’ve no idea the things ya do t'me, princess.” He teases, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in the last show of self control he’ll have for the night as he holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip on your tummy. Looking down at your shaking frame as he notices just how small you look below him, his cock easily reaching your belly button and the sight has him gasping for air. It’s not the first time he’s fucked you, far from it, but rather that he can’t get over the sheer size difference, every time he has you naked truly feels like the first when he sizes you up like this. It’s a wonder how your tiny cunt manages to fit his big fat cock and it never ceases to surprise him how well you take it. He’s so proud of you, you know? It’s part of why he wants to breed you so badly. You’re so strong, he can think of no better mother for his eventual children. “You’ve no idea the things I wanna do to you either.” He half admits his secret, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he idly swings his hips back and forth against you, feeling his thighs grow tacky with your slick while he stains your tummy with pre.

“Oh yeah?” You sigh, easing yourself into his gentle back and forth petting, allowing him to use your body for the tender moment. “Pray tell.” You continue, and he enjoys that you’re still willing to banter with him even has his hot and heavy cock fucks against your tummy. Wife material.

It’s not an easy thing to admit, he finds. Though he wants for nothing more than to start his own little family with you, the lewd intent behind his actions is palpable. Wanting to stuff your tiny cunt so full of cum your tummy swells. To watch as your belly grows with his planted seed, knowing that everyone in town will recognise that he’s fucked you pregnant. He’s honestly a little dizzy just at the thought, working on autopilot as he draws his hips back, letting his cock rest between your folds to glide his tip up and down it thoughtfully. He swallows hard before mumbling.

“Wanna have a baby with you.”

And to his surprise you don’t react with shock or denial, but rather with a smiled gasp. Love in your eyes and a shimmy in your shoulders as if you were attempting to reach out to him before remembering that you’re currently tied up. His heart clearly doesn’t get the acceptance memo though, hammering against his chest with anxiety while awaiting your reply.

“You mean it?” You whisper, dumb smile still plastered on your face. It causes him to grin too, lopsided when mixed with the distracting feeling of his cock sliding up your slit, knocking against your clit on every pass.

“Yeah.” He replies.

“Are you sure about this?

"So sure. Never been surer, if m'honest.”

He watches as you wait a second or two to fully accept his words, mulling them over in your post orgasm mind before you earnestly nod back at him. Short and sweet, just like his little wife herself.

“C'mon, let’s make you a daddy.” You tempt and boy does he take the bait. The petname you offer serving as the final nail in his restrain coffin, his hips driving against your cunt at the implication you make. Causes him to curse, a tense fuck- as you hum in satisfaction, smirking at his inability to control himself from such a simple word. Daddy. He’s never thought to have liked it so much, never even gave the name much consideration. But now, now he’s sure that he likes it, and he wants to hear you say it again. And again, and again.

“Again.” He demands, but there’s a hint of edge to his voice that surely lets you know that he’s praying.

“D-Daddy-” You stutter, only because he’s started lining his cock up to your twitching hole, thumb pressing down on the base of his cock to work his way inside.

“Again.” He urges, the usual gruff voice he uses during sex slowly returning as he gets comfortable in his stride once more. “Need t'hear y'say it one more time, c'mon-” His tip finally catching on your hole, a simultaneous gasp sounding in the room as the lights adorning your body flash before him.

You gulp, waiting for him to move but he doesn’t. He waits. True to his word, needs to hear the name choked from your throat once more before he gives you what you both want. “Da-Daddy!” You whine, all high strung and fuckin’ pretty as he pushes in as soon as you begin repeating yourself, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips as he finally feels in control again. “Yeah? Gonna make me a daddy, s'at right?” He barks down at you, word scathing and dripping with how much he yearns for you, even as his cock nudges inside of you. Pushing in slow and steady, because even if he’s knocked one orgasm out of you he can still feel the tight squeeze of your cunt, the stretch his fat cock forces you to endure until his balls are fully rested against your ass and you let out a cute shaky breath. Every time without fail. Barely waiting a moment for you to get accustomed to his girth before he’s pulling his hips back just as slowly as he pushed in, gritting his teeth at how tightly your little cunt tries to suck his cock back in to the hilt, like you never want him to leave. You can’t even reach out for him to pull him back down and into you, though he sees you try anyway. The power you offer him in the form of the light restraints going straight to his cock as he too eagerly shoves it back inside, settling into an unfair pace right from the get go. His muscles taut and tense as he prompts your legs to wrap around his back, fucking you on his hands and knees as both arms plant at either side of your head, each rock of his hips into you causing your ass to lift from the floor again and again.

“Promise t'make me a daddy-” He whines, and though he knows it’s unfair to ask as much he can’t help himself from begging. Punctuating his words with quick snap thrusts into your tiny wanting hole, his tip dragged against your twitching insides to draw more and more precum out to leave his mark. “Promise-” He repeats, slowing his thrusts down a little to allow you some room to breathe, to catch up with his cruel actions in hopes of hearing you answer. “An’ I’ll promise t'make you a mommy, yeah? Would y'like that? Have a few brats runnin’ around? God- fuck, gettin’ s'tight all of a sudden aint'cha? Y'want that?” He rambles on and on, unwilling to even let you reply because he’s riled himself up enough with his own words, fucking into you faster again out of primal instinct to breed. Still, the weak nod you send his way with your mouth open in an 'O’ so sweet moans of praise can escape your lips is promise enough, he thinks. Driving his hips against you at such a speed, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the space left between as he’s unable to stop himself now. Absolutely fraught with need to impregnate you, to make good on his promise to fuck you into motherhood and to tie you down to him forever as an ultimate show of his love for you. Balls heavy with seed and tight with intent on tainting you from the inside as much as his fingers mark your floorboards as he digs his palms into the wood for more leverage, bouncing you on the ground to fuck you back down on his cock with every thrust.

And the way you sob his name every time he fully sheathes, railing you into the floor below, your voice all cracked and broken as he fucks the word out of you — he’s going a little insane. Fucking you in such a dirty situation, his cute little wife turned vulgar with the amount of moans his cock fucks out of you. Saliva pooling in his mouth in sheer thirst for you, tummy tight with how good your little cunt wraps around his much bigger cock, so painfully hard just from how much he loves you, how helpless you look as he ruins you. So submissive below him, simply forced to lay there and take it like a good girl, like a good mommy would. His satisfaction heard through the low and rough moans your cunt squeezes out of him, the harsh pants for air as his hips refuse to let up, rocking into you with such desperation and determination that he can feel his thighs shake from under him. “Gonna be the best momma, jus’ know it-” He babbles, dripping drool down to your cheek as he hovers his face right above your own, hunched over you like the dirty dog he is to better fuck into your sopping cunt, your slick surely coating his thighs by now by the sounds of things. All gushy and wet, unfairly so. “Feel s'good, ah- tight fuckin’ cunt, huh?” he groans as your legs tighten around him just as your cunt starts to spasm around his cock, trapping him against your body so that he’s coerced into cumming inside anyway, the high pitched squeals you let out at his rough fucks offering a sure sign that you’re close once again, heels digging into his back as if to ask him never to leave. He wont, fuck, he never wants to. Would love to be balls deep buried in your little cunt all the time if he could, bullying his dribbling tip as deep as he can until his tip brushes against your cervix. And then it’s over for him, eyes rolled back as his head drops at the want to completely penetrate you and fuck his seed into you. You want this too, and he can tell from the way you breathlessly beg please-! over and over again, your eyes barely able to stay open from how well he fucks you and he thinks it’s just the cutest sight to see. To know this it’s his cock that’s making you feel so good, that you’ll soon be bearing his children, that you’ll be fucked into starting a family with him. His appreciation barely heard over the obscenely lewd slap of his balls against you, the too loud squelch of his cock fucking your little hole.

“Close?” He intends to ask, but it comes out more as a plea for you to hurry up and cum because he’s so close, so fuckin’ close himself thanks to your tight cunt and pretty face. The faint pained expression you wear looks so pretty and proves to be particularly fatal to him right now, the bounce of your tightly bound and hidden tits causing his heart to ache. “S'mommy close? C'mon, lemme see that pretty face-” he shudders into you, ego stroked almost as well as his cock when you can do no more than babble back half-hearted please! and yes! like some sort of broken record that he’ll never tire of. Don’t worry, he’ll fuck you as many times as he needs to tonight to knock you up. This round acting as just the first of many in his eyes, though perhaps the second and third he’ll untie you as he’d intended to from the very beginning.

It only takes a couple more strokes from his precise fucks to help you unravel, creaming his cock so well that he falls completely into you, cock humping away at your little spasming hole as he falls into a silent gasp against your neck. Huffing and panting and drooling all over your neck as your orgasm washes over you, back arched nicely into his chest with a short cry of his name. Fuck he’s so in love, so completely head over heels for you that he follows shortly behind you simply from hearing you finish, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm until he finally cums himself. Fucking his cock as deep as he can to increase the chances of getting you pregnant, moaning a string of “Yeahyeahyeah-” through gritted teeth right down your ear as your cunt milks him so well, desperately humping to prolong just how good he feels in your warm cunt, his seed mixing around and coating his cock with your own slick gushing around the base. Mind numb besides the thought of stuffing you so full of cum that there’s no way you wont be pregnant by the end of the night, keeping his cock lodged in your full cunt despite the little trickles of cum the seep out to make sure that most of it remains inside. And then he’s left winded, blissed out and high as he simply breathes with you. A steady in and out after the sharp gulps of air, allowing you a moment to calm down after such strenuous activity.

Because after all, you’re a mommy now. His mommy now. And as such he has to look after you especially well, peeling himself from your front only to allow you more room to breathe. That, and the fact that he wants to get you out of those string lights, let him pay attention to those pretty mommy tits. “Practice.” He tells you, as if it isn’t just self indulgence on his part. “For the baby.” He pats your tummy with one hand while the other reaches around to dig under the wiring.

Maybe he’d like to try the red lights next.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv alex smut #- writing

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goodluckdetective · 9 months

Text

Here’s the thing they will realize later, after hurts have been mended, apologies have been given and things have been properly said: neither of their plans would have worked.

In one world, Crowley says yes when Aziraphale begs him to stay, unable to leave his angel knowing he will soon walk into a pit of vipers more venomous than he ever was. He grits his teeth and accepts his halo back with shaking fingers, and tries to focus on the grin on Aziraphale’s face. He does not stop wearing black, nor does he stop going by Crowley: Aziraphale doesn’t want him to do either regardless. And when Aziraphale hands him a crank and a chart of stars, he actually manages to smile within white empty walls.

It works, for a time. Aziraphale, to his surprise, does not expect him to change other than his occult classification. The other angels are resistant, of course they are, but changes are made, actual good ones. Less people starve. The clause about the humility of the poor is thrown out and replaced with a doubling down against the rich. Unicorns make a comeback, though in small numbers. And after long days when work is done, Aziraphale asks Crowley to show him work on the stars, and they map out new galaxies that will last far behind 6000 years.

Crowley isn’t happy there: it is too clean, too sterile, too full of backhanded comments and belittling taunts. But he is not miserable either. And that’s perhaps the biggest surprise.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice the other angels planning the second coming after Aziraphale and him are both positive the plans have been scrapped for good. He notices before Azirpahale but not before Metatron has stripped him of heaven’s light once more and locked him in a cage with a bucket of holy water at the ready. For Metatron and the others know that Aziraphale can be tempted into what they want by or in this case, for, the original tempter himself.

Unlike Aziraphale, Heaven’s love has always been fickle. Crowley has always known this, has wanted Aziraphale to understand it too. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to see Aziraphale find him in the cage and realize that Heaven invited Crowley back to cage Aziraphale in return.

In another world, Aziraphale leaves the bookshop after a kiss that gives him enough second thoughts to leave the elevator behind. Crowley does not take off his sunglasses until Aziraphale is seated in the Bentley and Aziraphale hates himself when he sees the tears the shades hid. They embrace for a long time before Crowley pulls out one of the few books he actually keeps: a map of the stars.

They don’t go to Alpha Centuri because both have had more than enough of Gabriel. Instead, they go to other planets, other stars, some of which were born by the very star factory Crowley started. They spend time on Earth too, keeping an eye out for the second apocalypse Crowley warned Aziraphale they are planning. Aziraphale does as much good as he can on those visits, often wearing himself out to exhaustion. Every time they have to leave, when Heaven or Hell catch up to them: unlike their former bosses, they are enough of a threat to never leave alone. Crowley often has to carry Azirapahle away from the planet they long called home after these trips, the angel barely awake after doing as much as he can. Aziraphale knows he doesn’t like leaving either, he hates suffering as much as Aziraphale does, but unlike the angel, he’s able to separate himself from it instead of it eating him alive.

Aziraphale isn’t happy, away from Earth, from his dedication to doing good. But he is not miserable either. And perhaps that’s the biggest surprise.

Aziraphale plans to surprise Crowley with a proper dance in a lovely garden in France when they arrive to find the Earth is not the Earth anymore. Instead it is either one of the following: a burnt out husk of sulfur, or a glass dish like a macabre snow globe.

In the former scenario, there is no outrunning the demons, who want to ensure the last angel left (because they got Gabriel as soon as they could, Aziraphale was always going to be last) is dead and gone. With no power of Heaven to draw from, Aziraphale cannot run fast enough and Crowley cannot carry them both with enough speed to escape them. The demons catch up them both on a small house on a small planet and the house goes up in hellfire with a snap of a demon’s fingers.

When Crowley screams out his name, Aziraphale is sorry he will not be able to soothe his tears this time.

In the latter scenario, the glass globe that Heaven crows over like a magpie, Aziraphale looks at what Heaven has wrought and falls to his knees. He does not hear Crowley shout as he takes in what God’s plan has turned out to be, he does not feel Crowley shake his shoulders as he sees the world he loved preserved in its last moment of agony. He does not even feel his feathers burning until half of them have fallen out, his halo has cracked and his eyes start to bleed black.

If this was the ineffable plan, he thinks, he loathes every part of it. And as he falls, Crowley desperately trying to hold his feathers to skeleton-boned wings, he realizes there is no hell left to fall into, only a black hole where one demon will never find him again.

Neither of these situations happen. Instead there is an uncomfortable elevator ride, a silent car and more than enough tears. There will be more unpleasantness after that, such is the nature of things. But eventually, there will be awkward meetings, apologies shared, and forgiveness spoken. And one day, somehow, there will be a cottage in the South Downs where there is a garden almost as grand as Eden, a library to entice any bibliophile and a kisses that are not a goodbye but a hello.

#Iz writes #character death #fic #good omens #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens fanfic #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #take this fix it of sorts where I point out the ending we got is actually the best outcome #is this a fic or something I cranked out in half an hour: who’s to say

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bonezone44 · 7 months

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‘Stages of Grief’

Word Count: 1968

Joel x Reader

image credit

Summary: After a tense interaction with a family member who raised you when you were little, you spiral. Joel talks you through it.

Tags: Reader gender unspecified, angst, grief, familial neglect, childhood emotional/physical abuse

a/n: Read if your family sucks. Read if you like crying. Read if you’re crying-curious. But also keep in mind that I’m a random person on the internet who writes fanfiction. Not a therapist.

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‘It’s not fucking fair,’ you tell yourself. The pain shooting through your body in a way that feels unending.

How can an emotion feel so much worse than anything else?

How can a thought trigger a full body nuclear meltdown? How can it send you burning and twisting and writhing and regressing into the small child you once were?

Years have passed since you were a little kid, being tugged around and shoved from place to place, trailing behind the adults in your life. All your curiosities being ignored. Your questions going unanswered. Your needs being shoved aside so they could do whatever the hell they thought was so much more important than you. Their child. Their responsibility.

But what about you? What about your needs and desires? What about all the shit that you wanted to do?

You still remember staring up at the glowing carousel–the colorful, twinkling lights mirroring the stars in the night sky. The beautifully painted horses gliding up and down to a fun, jaunty tune playing loudly from some hidden location within. Your eyes sparkled with majesty and wonder. And you remember how the whole place smelled like popcorn–rich and buttery. The memory always made you hungry when you thought about it.

“I wanna go on that next!” you pointed and shouted with hope and excitement.

You heard an angry scoff. “We’re not going on a fucking kiddie ride.”

“But I wanna go!” you stomped.

They turned around and got in your face. “Well too fucking bad!” They yanked your arm, tugging you through the crowd. Other adults. Other kids. Other people with cotton candy and stuffed animals and new light-up toys and big smiling faces.

You started crying. It felt like your whole world was shattering. “But I wanna go!” You kicked and screamed. You wanted to have fun. You wanted what you wanted.

They shoved you into a corner and got into your face again. This time it was accompanied by their finger and a suffocating cloud of anger. “I don’t give a shit about what you want. Now shut the fuck up and don’t fucking embarrass me.” They whispered fiercely.

“But–”

They slapped you hard across the face.

It stung. Badly. You felt dizzy.

But it got you quiet.

“Now I’m gonna go down there and hang out with my friends–” they said, pointing down the dim, smelly alley behind the stalls. You saw two men in dirty aprons, sitting on buckets and smoking cigarettes with greasy fingers. “--and you’re gonna shut the fuck up.”

You pouted and sniffled, but had no choice in the matter. They were your adult. You had to go wherever they went. There were no other options.

And now you’re older and wiser, but anytime you’re with them or think about them or meet someone who reminds you of them–it sends you into a spiral. As if they still have their hand wrapped around your arm and you’re still begging them to let you get your way.

“You gotta talk to me, darlin’,” says Joel.

You can’t even see him. You know he’s in the room but your head is a thunderstorm and it’s raining out your eyes. “They do this. They do this every fucking time!” You choke out through sobs. “They can’t be happy for me. They can’t let me have anything!” The last word comes out with a stomp. You clench your fists and dig your nails into your palm. The pain is sharp and you shake your head, burrowing into it. “They never give me anything!” Never give you their attention, their love, their respect. It didn’t matter if you still lived in their house or not–they still saw you as a burden. “It doesn’t matter what I say or-or-or how I say it. They just refuse to fucking hear me!” They wouldn’t even listen when you spoke. “I have tried everything and nothing works.” You wipe your eyes, attempting to compose yourself.

“Then why do you keep tryin?” he asks.

You stare at him dumbly. “‘Cause they’re supposed to! They’re supposed to-to-to–” You break down harder. You can barely say the words in your own mind, but somehow they come out your lips. “They’re supposed to love me!” Your anger recedes, replaced with pain. Pure heart-stinging pain. You rub your chest with your palm. “They’re supposed to love me, Joel.” Your head falls back, your eyes on the ceiling. You can feel the muscles straining in your neck. “But they don’t!” Your mouth is wide and grimacing as you cry. “I can’t even get them to care about me!”

“Then why do you keep tryin?”

“‘Cause they’re supposed to,” you pout. Your brow is tight and you can feel yourself getting a headache.

“But they don’t.”

Hearing those words from Joel–it knocks a part of you back into place. Like you had spread out into a puddle of tears and he’s scooping you back together. You’re still hurting, though. You’re still crying.

“So why do you keep tryin’?” he asks again. “When you know they don’t care?”

“Because… because I want them to. I want them to care about me. I want them to know me. It’s not fair that-that-that I’m living this whole life without them and they just… they don’t even make an effort.”

“So stop tryin’.” He shrugs. His arms are crossed against his chest. “Stop givin them the effort that they won’t give you.”

“But I have to–”

“No,” Joel says firmly. “No, you don’t.”

“But–” you’re not giving in. You refuse. Your leg is shaking. You wanna beg him. Plead him. “But they’re my family.”

Families are supposed to love each other. Share stories. Call on the weekends. They’re supposed to learn and heal together. They’re supposed to be interested in one another’s dreams and struggles and achievements. They’re supposed to be lifelong companions. And when you’re an adult–they’re supposed to make the effort to heal whatever wrongs occurred during your childhood.

“I can’t just… leave ‘em, you know?” Your lips are trembling as you try to get the words out. “I can’t just give up on them.”

“Yeah–” Joel’s eyes are wide and serious. “Yeah, you can.”

“But–”

“You don’t owe them shit, darlin’,” he says. “It don’t matter if they fuckin’ raised you.” He shrugs. “It don’t matter how much money they spent on you or the time they took outta their shitty little lives to take you to school or soccer practice or to fuckin’ feed you.” He steps closer to you. “If you feel like shit every time you talk to them or try to… reach out–then stop.” He shrugs his shoulders again. “They coulda gifted ya a million fuckin dollars and it still wouldn’t make a difference.” He stares right into your eyes. “You don’t own them anything.”

Your sobbing has ceased, though your cheeks are still wet. “Then what am I supposed to do?” you ask. What are you supposed to do with this piece of you? This solid chunk of yourself that sits in your gut. What is it supposed to do if it’s not desperate and yearning for your family’s attention and approval and support?

“Nothin’.”

“...What?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says while shaking his head.

“But…” But that didn’t make sense. You were always doing something. You were always seeking and reaching and tugging and pulling and grasping for them. You were always begging and pleading and crying and aching and needingneedingneeding them.

“But…” And you could feel yourself releasing–like the odd burst of blood flow you got after unclenching your fists. When you had been holding onto something so tightly for so long that you stopped even feeling your own hand anymore. Didn’t know you had fingers. The only thing you noticed at the end of your arm was a strange sensation.

And when you finally let go, unpeeling your fingers, your joints moved unfamiliarly and uncomfortably. Your muscles trembled and shook–feeling weak. Your fingers were warm and tingly and pulsed. It made you think of a balloon popping–without the sharp sound. It was dull and matted and flat, but also exploding and alive and free.

“I don’t have to do … anything?” you asked. Because how the hell was that possible? Because once again, you were always doing something. Always feeling some sort of way.

“All you gotta do is live your life and do what you wanna do. In whatever way you can.” He shrugs. “If they show up, they show up.” He holds his palm out. “But you don’t owe them anything if they do. Even if they try to tell you that you owe ‘em.” He shakes his head. “You don’t.” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Nobody asks to be born, darlin’. But that don’t give them permission to treat you like shit for it. And you don’t owe them for doin’ the bare minimum to keep you alive.”

“So I can just… do whatever I want?” The tears return and you’re not sure why. There’s still pain inside you, stored deep in your muscles. But the twisting ache in your gut isn’t as strong as it was before. You feel lighter. Lighter than you ever have in your whole life, you think.

“You can do whatever you want.”

You start crying again, in a mix of confusion and hurt and relief. But you’re nodding. You’re agreeing with Joel. God, you can’t imagine what you must look like right now. Probably covered in snot, swollen eyes and lips. You just cried like a little baby and he watched you and talked you through the whole thing. You feel so silly and stupid and–grateful. You feel so grateful for Joel.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing back tears. “Thank you for loving me,” you choke out and you reach out to hug him and his big arms wrap all the way around you.

“Of course, darlin’” he whispers and kisses your head. His hands rub up and down your back as you sway into each other. “Of course.”

Once the tears fully stop, and you can think of your family without immediately falling apart, you sigh and let go of Joel.

His big hands cradle your face and he kisses you on the forehead. “Gonna get you some water,” he says and leaves the room.

You know this won’t be the last time you do this–grieve your family. But it’s a start. It’s a baseline. It’s a feeling you know you can seek out again when the next spiral hits. And then the next spiral. And the next.

But it will take less time in the future when you know the destination–when you can recognize the end of the journey. And even if Joel isn’t around for those, he was around for this one. The first one and worst one. And he didn’t judge you or silence you or push you away for having your feelings or expressing yourself. He didn’t treat you like a burden or toss you aside for being you and dealing with your shit.

And he didn’t try to replace your family. He didn’t try to become the new target of your yearning and desire and need for approval. Because he knows he can’t be that for you. He can’t be your new family–your new lifelong companion. Only you can. Only you know your own thoughts and desires and ambitions and dreams. Only you can be there inside your head at every waking moment and every sleepy night. And when that solid chunk inside of your gut starts to spread, grasping like ivy for something outside of you to fix you or approve you–you have to scoop it back in and tell it, “No. I don’t have to do anything. I can do whatever I want.”

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a/n: I'm currently enjoying my ride on the 'Joel x Reader x Healing' train. Most of my fic titles end with "(18+)" and I was tempted to put "(Fun for All Ages)" on this one 😂

#joel miller x reader #grief

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

Lighting Bug - Chapter 15

Master list

Warning: mention of child abuse, mention of past abuse

Word Count: 3.1K

“Thank you,” you looked from your book and saw Steve. He was holding a book of his own - The Hobbit - and a small notebook.

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, closing your book and setting up. “Why are you thanking me?” He pointed to the chair next to you, a silent question asking if he could join you. You nodded. He sat down, glancing at the book you were reading.

“I haven’t read that one. Is it good?” It was Natasha Ngan’s second book, Girls of Storm and Shadow.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s a typical young adult fantasy novel. This is the second book in a trilogy,” you watched as he opened the notebook and wrote something down. “You still haven’t told me why you are thanking me.” He closed the book.

“Bucky told me you and he talked,” he opened The Hobbit to where his bookmark was. “So thank you. You didn’t need to apologize but you did.” You watched the super soldier read. He used the bookmark to keep track of what line was one.

“Do you miss how quiet it was before you went into the ice?” You found yourself asking. He paused the movement of the bookmark as he thought. “I assume it was quieter back then.” You added.

“It was,” he said. “I miss how simple things were and sometimes the world is loud, especially with the enhanced hearing,” you nodded. “But I’m used to it now. I think it would be weird without it. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you played with the pages of the book. “It wasn’t fair to Bucky. I was struggling to separate him and someone else.”

“I understand.” You weren’t sure if he did.

“What was Bucky like before the war?” You asked him. Steve smiled, a fond look in his eyes. He told you how protective Bucky was of him, especially after his mother died. Steve always found himself in fights with guys twice his size. But Bucky was there. “When did you know that you loved him?” He sighed.

“It wasn’t until he fell off the train that I thought he was dead,” he said, tapping his fingers against the book. “It made me realize the feelings I had for him weren’t just platonic. One of the better things about living now instead of then,” he went back to reading. “It’s not perfect but it’s getting better.” It helped that he was Captain America. Who was going to tell him who he loved was wrong? Your father didn’t preach against it but you heard them talk about a same-sex couple they saw at the store and they did not say great things about them.

“That notebook you wrote it in,” you said. “What is it?”

“It’s filled with different historical events, movies, and music,” he said. “I used it a lot to help me figure out the modern world. Now I use it more as a bucket list of sorts,” you nodded.

“Sorry for the 20 questions,” you blushed. He smiled. “You can ask me something.” He looked at you, head tilted to the side as he thought of his question.

“Are you happy here?” The question took you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it.

“Yeah, I am,” you smiled. “I feel safe.”

You sat on the couch with a notebook on your lap and your feet tucked underneath you. The talk with Steve got you thinking of all the things you’ve missed and wanted to accomplish so you decided to make your list.

Go to the beach

Go on a rollercoaster

Watch Star Wars

Learn how to swim

Give Natasha, Wanda, America, Yelena, and Kate a hug

Reach out to Caleb?

“Hey,” America flopped down next to you. “Are you busy?” You shut the notebook and gave her your full attention.

“Nope, what’s going on?” You asked. She smiled.

“I have some homework from Strange,” she rolled her eyes. It made you smile. “Do you want to hang out with me while I work?” You nodded, a tight feeling forming in your chest.

“Yeah, sounds like fun,” you followed her to her room. It was a similar layout to yours but the key difference was the decorations. She had posters and artwork on the wall. Stuffed animals on her bed and pictures of the Avengers.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” she picked up a few clothes and threw them in her closet. Her room didn’t look like a mess but lived in it. “Here, join me,” she climbed onto her bed and pulled a book onto her lap. You felt nervous for some reason. It was dumb, this wasn’t the first time you’d laid in bed with her. You shook your head and joined her.

“So,” you said, crossing your legs. “What is Strange having you do?” She opened the book.

“Read,” she huffed. You couldn’t help but giggle. Her smile grew. “Your laugh is really cute.” You felt your cheeks burn and you busy yourself with playing with the blanket on her bed. “He thinks learning the history of the mystic arts will help me connect with my powers more,” she shrugged. “I just do what I’m told.”

“Explain it to me. I don’t know anything about it.”

“Okay, yeah I can do that,” she opened the book. “So this guy Agamotto found out you could draw power from alternate universes to create magic spells. He established the Masters of the Mystic Arts to protect people from extradimensional evil.”

“Extradimensional evil?” You questioned.

“Yeah, the dude was a little dramatic. It means ghosts or demons. Wong says the Avengers protect the world from physical dangers while sorcerers protect the Earth from more mystical threats,” she explained. Oh. That made sense? You weren’t sure. America laughed. “Your confused face is pretty cute too.” Again she made your cheeks burn.

“Shut up,” you mumbled. She laughed again. She continued to explain that different sanctums were built in Hong Kong, New York, and London. You were listening, you were, but your eyes landed on a framed picture of two women and a younger America.

“Those are my moms,” you jumped, not expecting her to catch you looking at you. She had a smile on her face but it wasn’t happy, more sad or lost.

“What happened?” You asked. She sighed, running her hands over her face and down her hair.

“Are you ever afraid of yourself?” She asked. You chuckled.

“All the time,” you admitted, looking down at your hands.

“When I was younger I couldn't control my powers. I can jump through different multiverses,” she added. You weren’t 100% sure what she meant by that but you didn’t want to interpret. “I got scared by a bee. When I screamed, a portal to another universe opened and they went through. I’ve been searching for them ever since but I was alone until the Avengers saved me.” You were surprised at how similar your stories were.

“I was 4 when I discovered what I could do,” you told her. “I accidentally shocked my brother. My parents were less than thrilled about it.”

“They hurt you, didn’t they?” You weren’t sure why it was so hard to admit it to her. You admitted it to Natasha and Yelena but you didn’t want America to see you differently. But you were silent for too long. You knew it was louder than anything you could say.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “But this isn’t about me. What happened to your moms wasn’t your fault,” she smiled, it was small.

“It wasn’t your fault either,” she said, putting her hand on top of your gloves. “What your parents did to you wasn’t your fault. It’s on them.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You weren’t sure if you believed her. You were constantly told it was your fault. Every hand laid on you or every world screamed at you, it was all your fault.

“Knock, knock,” you pulled your hand away from America and looked at Natasha. She had a playful smirk on her face. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” you said. “Uh, what’s up?” She looked between you and America. Her smile was growing. You saw America’s cheeks blush out of the corner of your eye.

“I just ran into Tony and he brought up you being homeschooled?” You groaned, rolling.

“I didn’t give him an answer yet,” Natasha chuckled.

“Why don’t you and Wanda and I sit down and talk about it?” You nodded, standing up.

“I’ll see you later,” you said to America. “And thank you.” She smiled.

“Yeah, of course,” you walked over to Natasha with your heart beating ().

Natasha stepped out of the way so she could walk by. She watched the young girl walk over to the couch then looked back at America, who wouldn’t look at the Black Widow. “So..” America groaned, flopping onto her back.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” the young girl glared at her.

“You didn’t have to say anything but you said enough,” Natasha chuckled.

“Whatever you say, kid,” she closed the door to join her girlfriend and Y/n. Natasha had to admit they were cute together and she didn’t miss the way America would look at the newest member. She trusted America to be patient and not rush anything but she would have to give them both the shovel talk if things were going to progress. Wanda was sitting next to Y/n. The young girl was smiling at whatever Wanda said. “So,” the Black Widow said, sitting down. “Do you want to be homeschooled?”

“Yeah,” the teen said, biting her lip. “I’m just worried.”

“What are you worried about?” Wanda asked. She looked down, playing with the bottom of her shirt.

“I don’t want you guys to think I’m stupid,” she said. Natasha wondered how many times her heart would break as she would open up to them. “I never went to school. My parents didn’t want anyone to know I existed. The only reason I know how to read is that they forced me to read passages from the bible,” she sighed.

“Dorogoy, you aren’t stupid,” Natasha said. “We would never think you were. I didn’t go to school.”

“The point of the test is to see where you're at,” Wanda said. “So Tony can make a plan to help. The grade doesn’t matter.” The teen didn’t seem conceived.

“We’ll be proud of you no matter what you get.” Natasha saw the relief on the girl’s face. Was that the first time she’s heard that? She was starting to plot a way to hurt everyone who hurt this girl.

“Okay,” she smiled. “I’d like to give it a try.”

“Let’s go talk to Tony.”

You were nervous as you sat between Wanda and Natasha. It felt stupid but you didn’t know why you were feeling this way. Maybe because you didn’t want to fail them. “Well isn’t my favorite family,” Tony said. Natasha rolled her eyes. “What can I do for you?” The couple looked at you.

“Uh, I’d like to take you up on that offer about homeschooling,” you said. His smile grew.

“Perfect,” he turned his back to you and opened a drawer. “You are going to need to take a placement test to see what educational level you are at,” he spun back around, holding a folder. “Here is a study guide that goes through the sections of the test.” You took the folder from him, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you just have this study guide laying around?” You asked. He laughed.

“I had a feeling you’d say yes,” you shook your head. “No rush when you want to take the test. Just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you hit the folder against your hand. “Thank you for everything. I can’t express how grateful I am.”

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Tony smiled.

“You’re family,” Natasha said. Family. You felt your throat burn and your eyes watered with unshed tears.

“We’ll be upstairs soon,” you nodded and walked out of Tony’s lab. You weren’t watching where you were going, to focus on the papers Tony gave you. It was a habit you never had before living in the tower. You always had to be on alert. You weren’t lying to Steve when you told him you felt safe here. So, when you ran into a body it didn’t phase you.

“Sorry,” you and Peter said at the same time. You giggled. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He said. He was holding a textbook in his hands.

“Neither was I apparently,” he laughed along with you.

“What do you have there?” He asked.

“Oh Tony suggested I start being homeschooled so he gave me some study material for the placement exam,” you could barely contain your excitement.

“Can I see what he gave you?” You gave him the folder and watched as he flipped through the papers. “Well,” he handed it back to you. “If you need help with anything let me know. I know MJ and Ned could help as well.”

“Thank you, Peter. I’ll keep that in mind,” you said your goodbyes and headed back to the floor. It was strange, you thought, how a group of strangers turned your life around.

Tony waited until the doors of his lap closed before looking back at the couple. “Have you asked her yet?” Natasha sighed, shaking her head.

“We haven’t found a good time to,”

“And she’s just getting her footing,” Wanda added. “She hasn’t been here for long.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What happens if someone sees her and the news gets back to her brother and they come to get her?” He asked. “If you get guardianship of her it would be easier to fight.” Natasha’s stomach twisted at the idea of someone taking the young girl away.

“Have you been keeping tabs on her family in California?” The Russian asked. Tony nodded.

“Her brother is a senior in high school and on track to go to UCLA,” he leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “Their aunt, on their mother’s side, is a 1st-grade teacher and their uncle owns a construction business.” He looked directly into Natasha’s eyes. “I know you care about her. This is the best thing for you.” But what if it wasn’t? What if she said no and that caused her to run?

“We’ll talk to her.”

The floor decided to have a movie night but when Natasha asked FRIDAY where Y/n was, the AI informed her she was in the library. So the Black Widow went to the library and found the teen asleep on the small couch with the study guide Tony gave her on the floor. It brought a smile to her face. But the thing that tipped it over the edge was the crochet blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She made a mental note to have Wanda make her own. She knelt in front of her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest and the peaceful look on her face. It was so strange, how a stranger entered her life and completely turned it upside down. Soon her eyes fluttered open and Natasha was staring into confused blue eyes. “Nat,” she mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What-?”

“We are going to watch a movie, do you want to join us or do you want to go back to sleep?” She blinked a few times, trying to process what Natasha said to her.

“Sleep,” Natasha smiled, fighting the urge to run her hand through the girl’s hair.

“Sleep it is. Let’s get you to bed then,” the teen groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. “You are not sleeping here.”

“Don’t wanna move,” she whined and Natasha had to bite her lip to stop her laugh from spilling out. She was throwing a small tantrum and it made her smile. The Black Widow knew her bed was going to be more comfortable. She thought back to what Kate said to get the teen to move to her bed. But she didn’t want to use cuddling as a bargaining chip. It couldn’t hurt for this one time.

“How about we move to your bed and we can cuddle?” The Russian asked. She pulled the blanket off her head.

“Cuddles?” She questioned. Natasha nodded with a smile as the teen’s eyebrows meant in the middle. “But aren’t you going to watch a movie?”

“Yes but between me and you, I would rather cuddle with you and we could watch a movie in your room.” The girl sat up and looked at Natasha, her blue eyes staring into the green. She was trying to find a lie.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Alright, let’s clean this up,” she nodded and helped Natasha pick up the papers. Once the library was cleaned, they walked back to their floor. “I’ll be right there,” she said. “Popcorn?”

“Popcorn,” she agreed and walked into her room.

“Hey, is she joining us?” Wanda asked as Natasha walked into the kitchen.

“No, and I’m not either,” she grabbed a popcorn bag and put it in the microwave. She leaned against the counter. “We are going to watch a movie in her room.” Wanda smiled, putting her hand on Natasha’s arm.

“That’s great. Are you going to ask her?” Natasha shrugged as the microwave went off. She opened the bag and poured it into a bowl.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t want to ruin anything. She’s happy right now. I don’t want to change that.” Wanda nodded.

“I understand. I’ll be behind you with whatever choice you make,” Natasha smiled, kissing Wanda softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Natasha grabbed two water bottles and headed to Y/n’s room. The teen was scrolling through the different streaming services.

“What do you want to watch?” She asked as Natasha closed the door.

“I’m not picky,” she huffed. Natasha laughed, climbing onto her bed. She placed the bowl between them and put the blanket over her.

“The Incredibles?” She suggested. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Perfect,” Before she pressed play, she rested her head on Natasha’s lap and put the metal bowl on her stomach. Natasha looked down at her, who was already looking up at her. She couldn’t figure out the look on the girl’s face.

“Thank you,” she whispered. It felt different than the other times she’s said it.

“Your welcome,” Natasha smiled. The girl hit play and turned her head to face the TV. Natasha could sit here and listen to her laugh forever. It was carefree, light, and happy. She was so different from the scared teen she met at Annie’s. She was healing and it was amazing to see.

taglist: @aestruvx @toouncreativeforausername @modedddd @whitewidowsbite @julilamoment @mythixmagic

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