#gonna put them in a jar and shake it around
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miraculous-showtime · 1 year ago
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if you actually think about it, emu is the perfect catalyst for all of rui's strange ideas. emu loves to have fun and she loves to see others have fun and smile and she is a bit strange and thinks outside the box. rui is the same way but he's the "idea man". and emu is his cheerleader. rui goes "and what if we end this one with a giant box of fireworks going off, of course taking the proper safety precautions incase of misfire, injury, or an actual fire." and emu looks at him with sparkles in her eyes and goes "that sounds so super duper cool rui-kun!! let's do it it'll be soooo wonderhoy!" because she is just imagining the glorious explosion of sparkles and colors and how the audiences' faces will light up with surprise and joy. they both love a good out of left field way to put a smile on someone's face. also not to mention how previously rui was shunned for his extravagant ideas but not by emu. emu never has any pushback because she has 100% faith in rui to not mess anything up, to put on a good show and not hurt anyone with his ideas. of course they have nene and tsukasa to keep them in check if they get too wild but i think emu is really good for rui. rui needs someone to have complete trust in him and his ideas so that he can have fun and grow from all the things that happened in his past. emu is that someone, she matches his energy and enthusiasm levels, taking all his crazy ideas and only ever going even further with them.
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strangerexee · 2 months ago
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ꜱɪʀ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰɪɴᴇ | ʙᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴛ.2
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Set in 1932 Reader x Bo Chow (Smut | NSFW | 18+ | stamina king Bo | backshots | riding | size kink | dominance ("good girl," "show me how bad you want it") | manhandling (he moves her around) | keep going until he’s satisfied | overstimulation (but hot and willing) | mild spanking | praise mixed with teasing) ᴡᴄ : 3ᴋ ᴘᴛ.1
You were still trying to catch your breath, still perched all pretty on that wobbly old stool in the back storeroom, your dress hitched up indecently high, your thighs sticky and trembling.
And Bo Chow. Lord have mercy, he literally just stood there.
Cool as you please. Straightened up to his full height, the buttons of his crisp white shirt stretched just a little across his broad chest, and tilted his head at you.
That little tilt, like he was studying something he was about to break just to put it back together again.
And then, his voice. Low. Sweet. Thick like honey poured real slow from the jar.
"Where you want it, sweetheart?" "Front or back?"
Your whole body shivered. A deep, aching heat rolled through you so thick you almost couldn't breathe.
You should’ve been embarrassed. You should’ve blushed, fidgeted, something.
But you didn’t. You met his gaze, eyes wide, breathing uneven, and somehow, somehow, you found the guts to say it:
"However you want it…sir."
Something dark and wild flickered in Bo’s eyes. Not surprise. Satisfaction. Like he knew all along you were gonna fold for him, and now you had.
Good and proper.
He huffed a little chuckle through his nose, low, raspy, wrecking you without even trying.
"Yeah?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.
Drawled it out slow, almost teasing. His hand flexed loose at his side, like he was thinking about how exactly he wanted to handle you.
The tension crackled in the air, sweet and hot and dangerous.
Bo took a slow step toward you. Boots heavy on the old wood floor.
You couldn't look away, felt frozen in place, heart pounding in your throat.
Without a word, he leaned down, slow and deliberate, and wrapped those big, rough hands around your ankles.
Gentle. Almost careful. You shivered when his fingers brushed your bare skin.
He found your panties, the ones bunched messily around your ankles, and with a little smirk, pulled them back up for you.
Real slow. Real deliberate. Like he was taking his time dressing you, only because it was his pleasure to undress you later.
The soft fabric dragged up your calves, your thighs, until it snapped back into place under your dress.
Bo let his hands linger at your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft curves, before he straightened up again.
God, he was so tall. So broad. So dangerous.
And still, still a damn gentleman about it.
"You still got a job to do, sunshine," he murmured, voice syrup-sweet and rough-edged, "Customers waitin’."
He winked, the cockiest, filthiest little wink you ever saw, and then turned and strode for the door without a second glance back.
Left you there. Shaking. Flushed. Soaked through. Panting like you’d just run a mile barefoot.
You slid off the stool with shaking knees, hands smoothing your skirt down, trying to fix yourself, but it was no use.
You felt ruined.
And Bo Chow? He knew it. He wanted you to feel it.
The door swung back open a second later, and he popped his head in, grinning that wicked grin.
"Don't fret, sweetheart," he drawled. "I'll give it to ya later.”
And then he was gone again, his voice still floating in the air like smoke and sin.
You stumbled out into the main store, face hot, hands shaking, body still thrumming with leftover need.
The bell over the door jingled as a new customer walked in.
And there was Bo, already behind the counter, wiping his hands on a rag, cool and casual like he hadn’t just had his mouth on you five minutes ago.
You caught his eye across the room. He smiled.
Slow. Confident. Wicked.
You almost dropped the basket you were holding.
Lord have mercy. You were in so much trouble. And you loved it.
The second the store closed and that front door clicked shut, Bo was on you.
No words. No soft coaxing. Just heat, raw and blinding.
He gripped your wrist, real firm but not hurting, and pulled you to the truck outside without a damn care for anything else.
Tossed your basket onto the seat beside you like it weighed nothing.
You barely had time to blink before he was climbing behind the wheel, those big, work-worn hands flexing around it tight enough to make the leather creak.
You sat there, squirming on the cracked leather bench seat, heart hammering outta your chest, sneaking glances at him out the corner of your eye.
Good Lord.
The rolled-up sleeves. The thick forearms dusted with dark hair. The way his jaw ticked when he caught you looking and grinned like he knew exactly what you were thinking.
Bo didn’t say much on the ride. Just kept one big hand firm on your thigh the whole way back. Fingers squeezing sometimes, like he just had to remind himself you were real.
His thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin. Low, rumbling hums escaping his throat when you shifted, when your skirt crept higher, when your breathing hitched.
You pulled up to a squat little house on the edge of town, plain and sturdy, just like him.
Before you could reach for the door handle, Bo was already moving.
Rounded the truck, opened your door for you, and when you hopped down, too slow for his liking, he just grabbed you.
Big hands under your thighs, hauling you up against him like you weighed nothing. You gasped, clinging to his shoulders. The muscles there flexed hard under your fingers.
"Don't worry, sunshine," he rasped, lips brushing your ear. "Ain't gonna drop ya. 'M gonna take real good care of you."
He carried you clean into the house, booted the door shut behind him, and didn’t stop moving 'til he had you in his bedroom.
Dropped you right on the mattress, rough but careful, and stood back just long enough to unbutton his sleeves and shove them up his thick forearms.
You stared. Lord have mercy. The cut of his arms. The thick veins. The wide, calloused hands that had already ruined you once today and were about to do it again.
You scrambled up onto your knees at the edge of the bed, reaching for him without even thinking.
And Bo, God bless him, caught your wrists in one big hand, smirking like the devil himself.
"So greedy already, sweetheart?" he teased, voice syrup-slow and mean-sweet.
You nodded fast, bold and shameless now, drunk on him, and whispered:
"Please."
Bo chuckled low in his chest, that filthy sound that made your whole body clench.
He leaned down, gripped the hem of your dress and yanked it up over your hips without ceremony.
You were soaked for him. His eyes darkened, heavy and hot.
"Fuckin' hell," he muttered. "Look at you. Drippin' for me already."
He told you to get on your hands and knees. Of course you listened.
He shoved at your back, real gentle but real firm, until you were braced on your elbows, ass high for him.
You gasped when you felt him, big, hot, hard against the back of your thigh.
You twisted around to look at him, wide-eyed, panting.
Bo just laughed under his breath. One hand gripped your hip, tight enough to bruise, and the other lined himself up right at your entrance.
"Hold still for me, sugar," he rasped. "Gonna make you feel real good."
And then he pushed in, slow at first, just the thick head stretching you open, until you moaned desperately and pushed back against him, needing more.
Bo groaned, low and filthy, and gripped your hips even tighter.
"Greedy lil thing," he panted. "Want all of it, huh?"
"Yeah—sir—" you gasped.
He laughed, a rough, broken sound, and slammed the rest of the way in.
You saw stars. Your elbows buckled, your body rocked forward with the force of it.
Bo grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanked your head back just enough to murmur in your ear:
"Takin' me so good, pretty girl." "So tight around me."
Then he started to move. Rough. Hard. Deep, so, so deep.
Driving into you like he owned you, like you were his and only his, like he was gonna fuck every other thought right outta your pretty little head.
You cried out, loud and gasping and needy, hand reaching back to push against him, as if that would do anything. But not broken. Never broken.
Just wild and burning for him.
Every time his hips snapped against your ass, his hand slid rough over your waist, holding you still, guiding you where he wanted you.
At one point, he gave your ass a light smack, just a quick, sharp tap, and rumbled:
"That's it, baby. Take it."
You moaned, high and breathless, and he laughed, rough and full of filthy pride.
He didn’t slow down. No, Kept you bent just right, his thick cock hitting that sweet, aching spot inside you over and over, kept you teetering right on the edge of breaking.
Every inch of you burned for him. Every thrust punched little moans from your throat. You could barely breathe, barely think. And you loved it.
You loved the way he handled you, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed you.
"Gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he panted against your ear. "Gonna let me fill this sweet lil pussy up?"
"Yes—yes—" you sobbed, desperate and honest.
Bo groaned low, like he was proud of you, and reached around, sliding two thick fingers to rub tight circles over your clit while he kept pounding into you from behind.
That was it.
The world shattered, heat exploding behind your eyes, your body locking up, clenching around him hard enough to drag a deep, broken curse from his throat.
Bo drove into you three more times, deep, brutal strokes, before he spilled inside you with a low, ragged groan.
You collapsed forward onto the mattress, gasping, shaking. Bo slumped over you, breathing heavy against your shoulder.
He didn’t pull away.
Just stayed there, heavy and warm and solid, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck. Real soft now. Real sweet.
After a minute, he finally leaned back, ran a hand over your back, your ass, your thighs, soothing, praising, claiming.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Took me so fuckin' good."
You smiled, soft and wrecked and stupidly happy, and let him roll you into his arms. Safe. Satisfied. Ruined.
You barely had a second to catch your breath before Bo was shifting under you,reaching up, grabbing your hips, flipping you onto him with zero effort.
You landed across his broad chest, sprawled and gasping, blinking down at him.
He looked wrecked, hair wild, jaw tight, chest heaving. But his cock, Jesus Christ, his cock was still hard.
Thick and heavy against his stomach. Still leaking, still hungry. You swallowed hard.
Bo just grinned, slow and wolfish, and tapped two fingers against your thigh.
"C'mon, sugar." "Ain't done with you yet." "Get up here. Ride me like a good girl."
Your whole body throbbed at the command. You nodded, eager, aching, and scrambled up.
Bo leaned back against the headboard, hands braced behind his head, just watching you with lazy, hooded eyes.
Letting you do the work. Letting you prove yourself. You straddled his hips, reached down to wrap your hand around the base of him, and whimpered a little at the sheer size.
Still so thick. Still so hot and hard it made your mouth water. You hovered over him, breathing fast. Bo chuckled under his breath.
"What's the matter, sunshine?" he rasped. "You scared now?"
You narrowed your eyes, stubborn, and shook your head.
He smirked.
"That's my girl."
You lined him up again, rubbed the fat head against your soaked folds, and sank down slow.
FUCK.
Your body clenched around him, struggling to take it, as if your pussy just forgot what he felt like. He stretched you so wide it bordered on pain, but it felt so good you couldn't stop.
Bo groaned low when you bottomed out, his hands gripping your thighs so tight you could already feel the bruises blooming.
"Tight fuckin' pussy," he muttered. "Jesus Christ. Fit me like a damn glove."
You whimpered, dizzy with how full you felt.
But he wasn’t satisfied yet. Bo loosened one hand from your thigh, licked his thumb, and reached down, slicking it over your clit with rough, filthy circles.
You jerked, crying out, hips grinding against him without meaning to.
"That's it, pretty girl," he growled. "Show me how bad you want it."
You started to move. Slow at first, rocking your hips back and forth, feeling every thick inch of him drag against your walls.
Bo leaned his head back, eyes fluttering shut, mouth open on a ragged moan.
You rode him harder. Faster. Chasing that hot, electric feeling building low in your belly.
"Boooo." your head tilted back, eyes squeezing shut.
Your hands planted on his chest, fingers digging into the hard muscle, and you used him like he told you to.
"Fuckkk, baby," he grunted. "Look at you. Bouncin' on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it."
You whined, high and broken, but kept going. Kept grinding down on him, riding him so good his thighs flexed under your knees.
At some point, he grabbed your hips and started fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts with brutal, punishing strokes. Had your jaw slack, letting out broken moans.
The slap of skin on skin filled the room. The headboard banged against the wall. You didn’t care.
You chased it, the pleasure, the heat, the way Bo made you feel like nothing else in the whole goddamn world mattered.
You felt yourself getting close again, too fast, overwhelmed but desperate for it.
Bo saw it. Felt the way you started trembling on top of him. He grinned, sharp and feral, and gripped your chin in one hand, forcing you to look down at him.
"You wanna come?" he panted. "Wanna make a mess all over my cock?"
You nodded.
"Please—please, Bo—"
Bo's thumb pressed tight against your clit, cruel and perfect, and he groaned:
"Then fuckin' take it. Show me how bad you need it."
That was it. You shattered again, crying out his name, body locking up around him so tight he cursed under his breath, fucking up into you harder to ride it out.
You collapsed against his chest, shaking. But Bo didn’t let up. Not yet. The man sighed like he was bored.
"Uh uh," he rasped against your hair, wrapping one big arm around your waist, holding you pinned. "Ain't done with you, sweetheart." "Gonna ride me 'til I say we're done."
You whimpered, not from fear, not from pain, but from the raw, burning NEED he dragged out of you.
You wanted it. You wanted him. You nodded into his chest, barely managing a breathless:
"Yes, sir."
Bo chuckled, soft and rough and full of pride.
He grabbed your hips again, started bouncing you up and down on his cock, using your body like his favorite toy.
You moaned, wrecked and shaking but so fucking happy you couldn’t even think straight. You'd give him anything. Everything.
It felt like forever. Bo kept you riding him through two more orgasms, holding you there, stuffed full and gasping, until he finally groaned deep and broken against your neck, hips jerking up hard one last time.
You felt him pulse deep inside you, hot and thick, and you whimpered at the stretch, the heat, the feeling of being so full you could hardly breathe.
Bo slumped back against the pillows, dragging you down with him. Panting. Shaking.
You both laid there, sweaty, trembling, ruined, and he ran a heavy hand up and down your back, soothing you.
"You did so good," he murmured, kissing your hair. "Took every goddamn inch of me like a fuckin' champ."
You smiled against his chest, weak and giddy and so, so full, and whispered:
"Anything for you..."
You laid flat on your back, dazed, the sheets twisted under you. Your thighs still trembled from the way Bo had used you, and you could feel his cum already leaking out of you, sticky and warm between your legs.
You barely had the strength to lift your head.
Bo shifted beside you, big and solid and alive, and you thought maybe he was just gonna pass out too.
Instead, you heard him grunt softly.
"Stay there, baby," he murmured.
You felt the bed dip as he stood up, bare-ass naked, heavy steps toward the bathroom.
You tried to lift your head again, but everything was heavy. You flopped back down, whining a little.
Bo came back a moment later, flushed, eyes dark but soft, holding a warm, damp rag in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
He dropped the rag on the bed for a second, reached out, and brushed your hair back from your sticky forehead.
"Look at you," he said, voice low and rough. "Wore you the fuck out, huh?"
You gave a weak, sleepy nod. Bo only chuckled, not unkind, and leaned down to kiss your temple.
"'S what happens when you ask for all of me, sugar," he whispered.
He crouched down beside the bed, gentle but firm. Picked up the rag. And started cleaning you up. Slow, careful wipes between your thighs, soft shushing sounds when you whined at the oversensitive feeling.
He was so tender you wanted to cry, but not from sadness. From how safe he made you feel.
He cleaned every inch of you, your thighs, your stomach, even the sticky patches on your hip where he'd gripped you too hard, until you were fresh and warm and shivering again for a different reason.
Bo tossed the rag into the laundry basket without even looking. Grabbed the glass of water. Sat on the edge of the bed and slid his big hand under your head, lifting you up against his chest like you weighed nothing.
He pressed the cool glass into your hands.
"Drink, baby," he said — voice brooking no argument.
You blinked blearily up at him, exhausted, limp, but you tried. Took a few weak sips.
Bo watched you, unsmiling now. Patient. Waiting.
When you faltered, your hands shaking, he tsked quietly. Took the glass from you with one hand, tipping it back to your lips.
"Uh uh," he said under his breath. "Told you to drink, sweet girl. Need you hydrated for me, yeah?"
The water spilled against your mouth as he tilted it, not enough to make you choke, but enough that you had no choice but to swallow.
You drank it down in slow gulps, the cold water easing some of the haze in your brain.
Bo murmured soft praise against your hair the whole time:
"There you go." "Good girl."
When the glass was empty, he set it aside.
Held you against his chest for a minute longer, stroking slow, lazy circles on your bare back, before pulling away just enough to look you in the eye.
His hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking your cheekbone.
"Bathroom now, baby," he said, voice firm but quiet. "I Need you to go pee for me, alright?"
You wrinkled your nose, sleepy and a little embarrassed.
Bo smirked, saw it all over your face.
"Don't get shy on me now," he teased, flicking your forehead.
You grumbled,soft and half-hearted, but you slid out of bed.
Bo watched you the whole way, arms folded behind his head, cocky and content, until you disappeared into the bathroom.
You heard him chuckle low when you slammed the door behind you. When you came back out, legs still wobbly, wearing nothing but his crumpled button-down Bo gave you, he held out one hand.
You crossed the room like you were sleepwalking. Crawled right back into the bed, right back onto him, like you belonged there.
Bo caught you against his chest, kissed the top of your head, and tucked the blankets up around your bare legs.
"Good girl," he murmured again, a low, private sound just for you.
You mumbled something, half a thank you, half a love letter, but it didn’t matter.
Bo already knew.
He kissed you, slow and deep and tender, his hand cradling the back of your head like you were the most precious thing he'd ever touched.
You sighed against his mouth, soft and full, and melted into him like you were made to fit there.
Bo smiled into the kiss.
"Get some sleep, sugar," he whispered, nuzzling your cheek. "Got work to do tomorrow.”
A/N: I was supposed to post this yesterday...sorry
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thelotusrabbit · 3 months ago
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STOP THE MUSIC! Part 2
Stop the music!
[Part 1] [Part 3] [sketch]
CW: for live insect consumption (don't worry, they get better)
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Constantine warned them that the creatures of the Infinite Realms behaved on a logic of their own.
Never trust your senses.
When the time came for them to ask for help, nobody knew what to expect.
Or, you know, what not to expect.
The summoning ritual itself was weird enough.
Powdered milk for the circle; hard candy, glass beads, and buttons as catalysts, and… real butterflies as offerings.
The chant was even weirder, a nonsensical poetry made from several languages.
When they finished chanting, reality warped inside the circle, as an incomprehensible mass was taking form.
A kid.
Sure, he looked absolutely manic, but a kid.
“What in every sensational?! It hasn’t been flesh in a long time!”
He exclaimed.
There was a beat of silence, long enough to irritate the being.
“You flesh! Earn your keep!”
The kid emoted in an exaggerated way.
His white hair reached the floor, creating a cupola around him. His toxic-green eyes shined like those of a cat, with his pupils so small, they started to doubt he could actually see anything.
His teeth were always exposed, even if he wasn’t talking, and he was wearing what looked like a hazmat suit, too big for the scrawny body.
He was floating a few inches from the ground and didn’t seem to stop moving, always rocking from side to side.
“I uh… hi?
Barry tried to start the conversation.
They needed help with a strange artifact that fell from the Infinite Realms, and apparently, he was one of a few beings that didn’t need a blood sacrifice to be called.
The being lighted up (literally) when the Flash spoke up, his smile widening even more.
“Ho, ho! Oh, where has your poor stomach been? Is it gone, or cat’s got your tongue?”
There was another beat of silence.
“What?”
The being huffed, shaking his head.
At this point, Constantine groaned and stepped forward.
“I hate this part…”
He murmured, before clearing his throat and looking at the kid.
Then, in the whiniest voice a grown man can muster, he exclaimed:
“I don’t believe it, this is rich, it’s rich!”
Oh.
Everybody was too stunned to speak, as Constantine was trying to emote just as much as the kid.
The being nodded, seemingly agreeing.
“But hasn’t this been enough already? Bring out the loot”
Constantine turned around, giving the kid the jar of live butterflies they got.
The being unscrewed the lid and started to eat them out of the jar like chips.
The heroes looked a mixture of weirded out and horrified.
On the other hand, the kid looked pleased.
“Ah, nothing better than a cup of Joe in the morning”
It was the middle of the night.
He was eating butterflies out of a jar-
Constantine took a deep breath in, then started to tap his foot on the floor, as if impatient.
“Listen here now, and sit down. Only you can make due, and due is here to be made, now more haste, go for it!”
The being huffed and put the jar down
“Being employed is miserable”
He murmured, before seemingly turning inside-out and disappearing. Every butterfly that he ate was now peacefully flying around.
Constantine sighed, before rubbing his temples.
The members of the JL were staring at him, having understood absolutely fucking nothing of what just happened.
Batman was the first to step up.
"What happened?"
"He got the message, he's getting the artifact back to it's place."
"How do you know that?"
The blond gave them a deadpan glare, too done for the day.
“Clean up this mess, we're gonna talk about this after I have a drink.”
[Part 1] [Part 3] [sketch]
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sinofwriting · 6 months ago
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21st - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)
Words: 689 Summary: Pan, Max, Logan, and Oscar celebrate Logan’s 21st birthday together. (Part of the I ♥️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place pretty much directly after the first fic and remember in that first fic Logan is twenty as I changed his and Oscar’s age. Also happy 24th birthday Logan! It's gonna treat you far better than 23 did! (that is threat btw, I will make it treat him better)
Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse
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Pan lets out a laugh as Oscar takes a drink from her glass, his whole face scrunching up as he practically slams it back on the table.
“Mom, what the fuck?”
Logan smacks the back of Oscar’s head lightly as he sputters. “Don’t say what the fuck like that to mom.”
Max watches the two of them, slightly wide-eyed as they begin to bicker.
“Are they always like this?” He asks her, voice quiet.
“Pretty much.” She laughs, leaning into Max and snuggling into his side when he automatically lifts his arm and presses a kiss to her head. “It’s off season as well, so both of them just fully get to relax.”
“It’s nice.” He tells her, watching as they two boys start to shove each other lightly.
“Okay, but what was that?”
“Moonshine.” She tells Oscar, leaning out of Max’s hold and forward to push Oscar’s hair up and out of his face, knowing he won’t notice it before settling back into Max’s side. “My grandfather made it often.”
Logan perks up at the first word. “Moonshine?” And he makes grabby hands at her glass.
She shakes her head, “There’s a mason jar on the bar, you can get yourself some.”
“You like that shit?” Oscar says, horror on his face as Logan practically sprints to the bar.
“I’ve never had moonshine.” Max’s voice is quiet in her ear and she turns her face to look at him.
Reaching for her glass, she pushes it to be in front of him. “Try it.”
Picking up the glass, he peers at it, before raising it to his lips and taking a drink.
His face scrunches up a bit, the glass getting set down with a quiet clink. “Yeah, I think that is a Sargeant thing. I’m not too sure about that.” Max then withdraws his arm from around her shoulders. “I’m gonna make myself a gin and tonic, want anything?” He asks the three of them as he stands.
Logan and Oscar both shake their heads.
“Some pretzels please, oh and bring the plate.”
He nods, the boys look at them in confusion. “Can do.”
“What plate?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She tells them.
“But what plate?”
Her eyes narrow and they both smile at her.
Max returns after a moment, an arm behind his back, while his other is slightly outstretched in front of him and she takes the drink in that hand, putting it down for him. And Max slowly moves his other arm in front of him and sitting on top of a plate is a cake, the icing on it saying ‘Happy 21st Logan’.
Logan beams at the sight of the cake as it’s set in front of him. “Thank you guys!”
Oscar lets out a small sigh, “I love America.”
Logan and her snort at the comment while Max raises an eyebrow at Oscar’s comment, sitting back down.
“Pan only makes this cake when it’s like a really special birthday. So, ten, sixteen, eighteen, and the next was twenty-one since it’s America’s drinking age. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”
“I always forget that twenty-one is special for you guys. Finally going to start drinking Logan?” Max jokes.
Logan laughs, but plays along. “Oh yeah, man. I’ve been waiting forever to finally have my first drink. It’s been painful to watch everyone else drink and have to wait another three years to join them.”
“Oh, agonizing, I’m sure.” Max says, with a nod.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He sighs before smiling. “But really, thank you, Momma and thank you, Max.”
“I don’t get thanks?” Oscar says, throwing his hands in the air.
Logan shakes his head, “nope. Deal with it.”
The Australian scowls but a smile is threatening to ruin it. “Bloody Americans.” He looks at Max for agreement, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t think so, mate. I quite like my Americans.”
Logan flushes a little and she can’t help but press a kiss to Max’s cheek, Oscar completely softening, the fake scowl gone from his face as he observes the three of them.
“Yeah, I quite like them too.”
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godmadeaterribleerror · 8 days ago
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Feelin' Good
Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist
Read on A03!
Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (fingering), light angst, fluff, no use of y/n, pre-established relationship, jealousy
Summary: It's been a long, rough day, and it's easy to sink a little lower into worse feelings. Luckily, Bucky is always there to pick you back up.
Author's Note: Welcome to my thesis about why a careful dose of mutual jealousy can be really hot, actually. Enjoy! Also one day we're gonna get a proper Bucky gif with the post-credits hair, and I will be unstoppable.
Word Count: 4.3k
Today has been a long, rough day. And long, rough days happen. Often. You always manage to wake up in the morning, with Bucky’s arm thrown over your side and his face pressed into your shoulder, and things get better.
But today has just been bad. 
Your shower was cold, in the morning. You’d forgotten to do the laundry last night. You’d someone already run out of groceries, because nobody listens to your suggestions to get individual kitchens instead of having a big group one. Alexei had eaten all your pop tarts, John stole your eggs, and you’d had peanut butter and jelly, but not a single slice of bread. 
Bucky had found you at the table, eating peanut butter out of the jar with a scowl. And he’d kissed your brow and gently pried it from your hands, before taking you to the twenty-four-hour diner across the street. 
“You don’t have to,” you’d mumbled, your face pressed into his shoulder. “‘M fine-“
“Was already up,” he’d shrugged, and you’d known that was a lie. You’d kissed his cheek before you’d gotten out of bed, and all you’d gotten in return was an incoherent grumble. You’d been able to trick him with a pillow instead of your body. He’d been—for once—dead to the world. 
But he’d still gotten up. For you.
And that had gotten you through a lot of the morning. It had barely been 5am, but Bucky had still been up, just for you. And he’d grinned at you as he’d watched you eat breakfast, then looped his arm around your waist as you’d walked back to the Watchtower, keeping you pressed right to his side.
But the day had just kept getting worse. You’d pulled into the parking lot at work only to find some dipshit had taken your spot. The coffee pot had been broken, and you’d had to run to the corner store on your lunch to get an energy drink. The whole building was full of incompetent idiots, and you’d had to solve problems a put out three metaphorical—and one literal—fires all day. Finally, the heater had been broken, and by the end of the day your fingers had been a shade off, shaking from the cold. 
Bucky had made it better.
Again.
He always made it better, even when his job was ten times as difficult. He’d kissed your knuckles and let you sit behind him on the couch, your face pressed between his shoulder blades and your hands curled on his stomach.
Better. Just for a second, better.
If the day had stopped there, it would have just been better. 
But it hadn’t. 
And you’re so fucking tired. 
The team often had to do these stupid galas. A media circus cloaked as a fundraiser, for Valentina to parade them around and show them off. Everyone hates them.
But at best, it sometimes provides entertainment, to get through the night. Once, security tried to make Yelena get rid of her weapons for safety, and she’d made five grown men cry. Ava gets asked to show off a lot, and you’ve seen her blatantly steal things off of whoever requested a demonstration with a sweet smile—you’ve been practicing that with her, it’s getting better—and the dumbass none the wiser. There’s a running competition to see who can get John on the longest, most pointless speech. Last month, Alexei fit fifty shrimp in his mouth. 
You still hate them, but they’re good team building opportunities. And all you usually have to do is cling to Bucky’s side and pretend you want to be there, or hide with Bob in a shadowy corner when Bucky has to go do New Avengers things. 
But today was a shit fucking day. And you hadn’t even wanted to go, but if you told Bucky that he’d have to go alone, or he’d not go at all and get in trouble. So you’d put on a dress, sucked it up, and pushed through. Ignoring to odd looks people gave you on Bucky’s arm, smiling politely and making small talk with whatever rich people decided you were worth speaking to, and just trying to get to the end of night.
“I have to go pee,” you’d whispered in Bucky’s ear, and he’d shot you an amused look. 
“You askin’ my permission, doll?”
“No, I’m just telling you, buttface.”
“Buttface?” He’d tugged you a little closer, and you’d squirmed.
“I need to pee, Buck, please-“
He’d hummed, giving you a deep, firm kiss that turned all your words into a moan. 
“Y’know, you’re pretty when you say please,” he’d whispered against your lips, and you’d glared at him, shoving his chest.
“I’m gonna kick your ass-“
“And I’m excited to see you try.” He’d grinned, and it was the grin only you ever got. Soft eyes and toothy smile, followed by a kiss the top of your head and a squeeze of your waist. You’d wanted to go home there. To drag him somewhere quieter where you could get on your knees, climb into his arms and never let go, or crawl over him in the dark until he’d exhausted you both, and you could pass out peacefully. 
But you’d had to pee. 
“Be fast.” Bucky had let you go, nodding in the direction of the bathrooms. “I’ll wait here.”
You’d nodded, given his jaw a quick kiss, and all but run away to the bathroom. 
And he had been waiting for you.
But he hadn’t been alone. 
This has happened before. Bucky doesn’t hide that he’s dating you, but there are no official posts on social media, or pieces in the news about it. You’d asked for their not to be, for your own sanity and privacy. But the cost that comes with is people throwing themselves at him.
You don’t blame them. He’s beautiful and kind and perfect, and you love him more than anything in the world. You just got lucky that he somehow noticed you, of all people, and somehow earned him loving you back. 
It’s what you tell yourself, over and over, when this happens. Bucky chose you. He asked you out, you live with him, he loves you. And you trust him, with a little more than your life. He’d never, ever do that to you. Fuck, you’d been doing laundry a few weeks ago and found his little paper list of ring shit, with your sizing, favorite colors, and locations that might be good for a proposal. Bucky loves you.
But this woman had been beautiful. Perfect hair, and body, and makeup. No bags of exhaustion barely hidden under her makeup. No crooked teeth in her blinding smile. Even her posture had been flawless. And she’d been a lot more forward than the others. A hand on Bucky’s chest that had made him stiffen, and a honeyed smile that had looked designed to get someone into bed.
It had boiled, right under your skin. You’d never be that put together. That sweet and easy, that beautiful, that anything. Then it had spread to rot in the cavity of your chest, and bubbled in your heart. 
Bucky loves you.
But he hasn’t made her leave yet. Usually he makes them leave right away, but you’re also usually on his arm. 
You don’t want to think about it. If you think about it too hard, your eyes are going to sting, and you’ll choke on the air around you. You’re so tired, and all you ever do is ask things of Bucky. All you do is shuffle back to the nobody wants us here corner with Bob, and lose a game of solitaire on your phone. Maybe the woman is finally opening his eyes to the fact that he deserves more than a broke, needy civilian that can’t even make herself breakfast. And he’s going to find you and tell you that, and you’re going to have to go to work tomorrow without him tucking your hair behind your ear and whispering that he loves you against your lips-
He wouldn’t do that. You know he wouldn’t. He’s probably just having a harder time giving her a reason to leave, without you there. 
But it doesn’t stop that sore, bitter feeling. And it’s been such a shit day.
You just want to go home.
But Bucky has to stay here, with all the people made of the same diamonds and stars that he is. So, until you’re no longer the one he keeps at his side, you do too. 
“Hey.” 
You blink up—you lost again, people aren’t supposed to be able to lose solitaire a such a high rate—and a man that isn’t Bucky is standing over you. He’s got slicked back hair and cold, almost dead looking eyes. 
“Hi,” you frown at him, and you shouldn’t have told Bob you wanted some water and food too. He would’ve been back by now, and you wouldn’t be alone. “Can I help you?���
“Maybe,” the man’s voice is almost a purr, and it’s crawling over your skin. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here, all alone?”
“I- I’m not alone-“
The man laughs, and shoots you a wink. “Well, course not. You’re with me now.”
You blink at him for a second, and it’s been too long a day to properly filter yourself, and you can see Bucky and the woman, whenever you close your eyes. You shouldn’t say anything. You’re supposed to be on your best behavior. 
But you’re not.
“Is that supposed to work on me?” You ask bluntly, and the man blinks. “Am I supposed to spread my legs and let you fuck me, now?”
“Wow.” He laughs again, and he’s not backing down. “You’re a mouthy one, sweetheart. I think that fucking thing you mentioned sounds like a plan-“
“No, it doesn’t.” A smooth, black and gold hand appears on the man’s shoulder, and he’s yanked away for you with an undignified squawk. 
Bucky’s glare is more violent than you usually see it. That’s the glower that villains, politicians, Valentina, and sometimes John gets. All the warmth he saves for you, gone. Just a cold, firm reminder that he could kill anyone in this room, if he wanted. 
You’re not sure why it’s here now. 
“Mr. Barnes.” The man throws on a winning smile, and Bucky’s glare doesn’t waver. “It’s- I’m a fan-“
“That’s good for you, buddy. Take a walk.”
The man glances back to you. “We were just having a conversation, man, I’m not going to do anything without her permission-“
“You’re not doin’ anything at all.” Bucky side-steps, blocking you from the man’s view, and you might be too tired to track what’s happening. “Get away from my girl. Now.”
“Your- Sorry, I didn’t know-“
“I don’t care. Go.”
You don’t see the man leaving. You don’t need to. All you can see is Bucky turning around to frown at you, almost pinning you between his body and the wall.
“You alright, doll?”
“I’m fine,” you scan over his face, and it’s tight. Angry. “I- I’m sorry-“
“Don’t be sorry,” he grunts. “Not your fault assholes don’t listen ‘less you’re with me.” Bucky pauses, something heavy crossing over his features. “What’re you doing over here?”
You blink at him. “I- I was waiting for you-“
“I was waiting for you. Where I said I’d be.” The heavy thing seems to be sinking deeper. “But you didn’t come back.”
You take a long, deep breath, dropping your brow to his chest. You don’t want to look at him, when you say it. 
Bucky mutters your name, his hand tangling in your hair, and you shake your head. 
“You were with someone.” You mumble. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”
“Didn’t want to-“ Bucky cuts himself off, and tugs lightly on your hair. “Can you look at me? Please?”
You tip your head back, biting on your lower lip to keep it from wobbling—it’s not working, but this can’t be the thing today that makes you cry—and Bucky’s gaze soft on yours. Demanding, his eyes almost trapping yours to his, a little narrowed as his free hand grabs your chin, but soft. 
“Were you jealous, babydoll?”
The sore feeling flares, but now there’s a bigger, needier heat with it. He’s so close to you, and you can feel all the heat from his body, and maybe if you lean up and kiss him until you’re dizzy it will lean a stain of lipstick, that tells everyone he’s yours-
“Answer me.” He leans a little further down, his voice dropping slightly, and you nod weakly.
“I- I’m just tired,” you grab his hand on his chin, just in case he’s going to try and let go. “I trust you, Buck, I promise, I just- I’ve had a bad day-“
“Hey. I know.” Bucky shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to the space between your eyes, and you melt toward into him. “I’m not mad, sweetheart, it’s-“ He shakes his head with a dry chuckle, giving you an amused look. “Hell, what do you think I was just doin’, with the guy all over you?”
You shrug, your eyes wide on his. “I- I don’t know-“
“Yeah, you do.” He keeps his brow against yours, moving his hands to cup your face as he speaks. “I know you’re tired, baby, but you’ve got a big brain. Use it.”
You frown at him. You know what he’s saying, but it’s insane. “But you don’t need to be- You know-“
“Neither do you.” He counters quickly, giving you a pointed look. “I’ve told you, there’s no one else for me. Just you, sweet girl. My girl.” He leans down to leave a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and a softish giggle bubbles in your throat. “No one else is gettin’ close, long as you’re here. Got it?”
“Got it.” You whisper, your arms wrapping around his chest. “I- I love you, Bucky.”
He flushes a little. He always does, whenever you say that. Flushes and tenses for half a second, like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with himself after. 
“Love you too,” he mutters, pressing anther kiss to your cheek. “Let’s go home, doll.”
You blink at him. “Buck, you still have to-“
“Nah.” Bucky takes your hand his, tugging you away from the corner. “Valentina can yell at me later, we’re leaving.”
“But-“
“You’re tired.” His voice is firm as he moves you both through the crowd. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
You shake your head. “I’ll be okay, you don’t have to- I can get through the rest of the night-“
He freezes, grabbing your face again, right in the middle of the room. People might be staring, but you can’t really bring yourself to care. No matter what, all you can see is Bucky. 
“You want to get through the rest of the night?” He asks, and you swallow.
“I want to support you-“
“You do support me.” He grunts, his thumb running over your lower lip. “You’re real good to me, doll. Do all my laundry, put up with my nightmares, let me sit with you while you read-“
“You read too.” You mumble weakly, and he shrugs.
“Nah. Mostly stare at you while you read. You get cute.” His eyes narrow again, before you can even fully process his words. “Tell me if you want to stay here.”
You’re not good at lying to him. He’s already had enough of that, and you love him. “I wanna go home,” you whisper. “But-“
“No but.” Bucky takes your hand back into his, giving it one squeeze. “Let’s go”
Maybe you should fight it harder. It’s his job, and you’re supposed to be supportive, not drag him away from work. 
But he hates being here too. And he loves you. 
So it’s not the worst thing in the world, to let Bucky pull you into a taxi—half sat on his lap, your head pressed into his neck as you try to stay awake—and bring you home. 
And right now, Bucky is a man on a mission. 
You’re not nearly dumb enough to try and get in the way of that. 
Bucky herds you right to the shower, with hands on your hips and soft kisses on your neck. Helps you out of your dress and shoes, but keeps on his suit.
“Are you-“
“I’m gonna change the sheets.” He says, running his hand under the water. “It’s almost warm. Take your time, doll. And call me if you need anything.”
You roll your eyes, shuffling forward to press your face into his chest. 
His arm shoots around you in a second, and you sigh against his chest. 
“It’s just a shower, Buck.” You reach up to play with the collar of his shirt, giving him your best, pleading eyes. “What if I want you to shower with me?”
“Then I will in the morning.” 
You pout, and he just chuckles. There’s the grin again. Just for you. Always just for you. 
“C’mon,” he drawls your name, guiding you into the warm steam. “I’ll be back soon.”
You hum, and relax into the water. The tension slowly drifts and falls from your body, and the exhaustion is getting hard to fight. Your eyes are drooping, and your body is just warm, and it would be nice to have Bucky here with you, but he’s not gone for long.
“You wanna watch a movie?” He says, having crept back into the bathroom without you hearing, and you only sigh.
“James, what did we say about sneaking-“
“Wasn’t sneaking.” He grumbles. “Shower is loud.”
You turn it off, and poke your head out to see his arms crossed, a towel slung over his shoulder and a glower on his face. He’s made himself busy. His pants and shirt are ones you know were dirty this morning, and he’d lit a candle to help you relax. He keeps glaring between it and you, like he’s trying to make sure it’s working. 
He looks adorable. 
You can’t stop the dumb, adoring smile on your face. 
“You were sneaking.” You step out of the shower, and try not to take too much pride in the way Bucky’s jaw clenches. “I know you try not to, but one day you’re gonna freak someone out-“
“Don’t care.” He mutters, passing you the towel as you stop right in front of him. “Not freaking you out.” He pauses. “Right?”
“Right. But-“
“You’re all that matters.” He says, his tone firm, and your smile somehow grows. 
“You’re going to get shot or something, if you do that to Yelena.”
Bucky snorts. “I can’t sneak up on Yelena, sweetheart.”
That’s probably true. “Well, I still don’t want you to get shot-“
“Not gonna get shot.” He kisses the top of your head, and—the moment the towel is wrapped around your body—scoops you up into his arms. 
“James-“
“Got you some chocolate and Chinese food, when you’re hungry.” He carries you out of the bathroom, holding you tight to his chest, as if the walls might try to jump down and take you away. “And tomorrow’s Saturday, so you’re sleepin’ in. Then we can watch a movie.”
You nod, watching the low light shift over his face, every shadow making him even more impossibly handsome. “What movie?”
“We’re still on the Pixar catchup. Next is, uh-“ He frowns at the air for a second. “Cars. The second one.”
You giggle, dropping your face back into his neck. “Oh, you’re going to hate that one.”
“Why’d you think that?”
“Cause it’s a spy movie. Last time we tried to watch a spy movie, I had to turn it off before you gave yourself a heart attack.”
Bucky frowns, lowering you down onto your bed. “It’s a movie about cars.”
“Spy cars.”
“Why the hell are there spy cars-“
“Don’t know, but-“ Your words are cut off with a wide, long yawn, and Bucky grins.
“Feelin’ tired?”
You shake your head, your fingers curling in his shirt, and he chuckles, slowly laying you down onto the mattress. 
He did change the sheets. They’re clean and warm and nice, but-
“Don’t smell like you.” You mumble, and Bucky frowns.
“What?”
“Sheets.” You give a pathetic tug of his shirt, trying to get him to lay down with you. “Don’t smell like you.”
Bucky raises his brows. “What do I smell like?”
You let out another yawn before you answer. “Good.”
“Good?” Bucky laughs softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your brow. “You’re exhausted, baby. Go to bed, I’ll be back-“
“No-“ You wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky could pry you off easy, but he doesn’t. “Stay.”
He says your name with a soft voice. “I have to clean and get your chocolate for the mornin’-“
“Don’t want it.” Just for extra precautions, you wrap your legs around his waist, until you’re all but hanging off his body. “Want you.”
Bucky mutters your name—his arm still moving to hold you against him—and you shake your head.
“You need to rest too, Buck-“
“I’ll rest soon-“
“Hypocrite.”
Bucky pauses, then chuckles right in your ear. “Maybe, yeah. But I can go longer without rest than you, doll. Super Soldier.”
His arm is rubbing slow circles on your back, and you’re so tired, but he’s taking such good care of you. The day is finally getting better, as Bucky shift and flexes above you. And he looks handsome all the time, but this is different. His hair is messy and soft, and he’s wearing sweatpants that let you feel his bulge—pressed too close to where you’re starting to ache for him—and he’s all yours. He smells good, and feels good, and when your eyes blink open, he’s staring down at you so softly. Like you’re the only star in the entire sky, and you’ve fallen right into his hands. 
“Bucky.” You whisper, grinding up into him, and his arm tenses. “Please stay.”
“You- Jesus.” He groans, but lowers himself back down. “You need sleep-“
“Can need two things.” You mumble, and he hums, angling his head to kiss right under your jaw, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. 
“You gonna rest if I give you what you need?”
You nod, another soft sound escaping your lips, and Bucky lowers you back onto the bed gently. One hand gently cradles your face as he kisses you, long and deep and into the mattress, until you’re writhing below him and your fingers are tugging at his hair. 
He grunts, biting your lower lip, and you moan again.
“That’s right,” he mutters, kissing and sucking a tortuously slow line down your neck. “Relax, doll, lemme take care of you.”
You let out a soft, needy sigh, and Bucky shifts above you. Rolling you both onto your sides, and keeping you pinned to his chest as the metal hand palms at your breasts, and the other glides down your stomach with teasing, feather-light brushes. 
“Bucky,” you whisper, tipping your head back to meet his gaze as his thumb finds your clit, dragging long, firm circles around it. “Please. Need you.”
His eyes are hooded and blown out, and you’re sure it’s a mirror of your own, desperate expression. “Need me, doll? Just me?”
You nod a little stupidly. “Just you, Buck, always just you- Oh-“
One, broad finger pushes into you, right as his thumb presses right onto your clit and metal fingers brush over your nipples. Then he starts to move, pumping slowly and out of your pussy, and you’re floating. He’s barely even touching you and you’re high on him, almost putty in his arms, the heat pooling in your stomach growing into a small, hungry fire. 
“James,” you moan, grinding against his hand, and he hums, picking up the pace. “Fuck, feels so good, I- God-“
Bucky shifts you slightly, pushing in a second finger and a capturing your mouth in a deep, almost bruising kiss. You whine into his mouth, his thumb starting to rub harsh, frenzied little circles on your clit, and you’re going to explode into a stardust and light and Bucky-
“So wet for me,” he mutters, his lips never leaving yours. “Love you so much, love how pretty you look when I touch you-“
“I-“ You whimper, his fingers crooking deep inside you, starting to rub as his thumb hits an almost inhuman place. “James-“
“Gonna cum already, babydoll?” He nips on your lower lip, hissing as you try to grind your ass onto his boner, pressing right into you. “Shit- So needy for me, make the best fuckin’ sounds-“
“Please,” you squirm in his arms, danglingly right on the edge of release. “Bucky, please-“
“I got you,” he mutters your name against your lips, and his metal hand vanishes from your nipples, only to drag down to your already swollen clit, and- “Cum for me, sweet girl.”
Your release washes through you like a wave, and Bucky’s fingers don’t let up on your clit until you’re a shaking, whining mess in his arms. You can’t really hear what he’s saying, likely some low praise about how you feel or look, but you can hear to tone in his voice. Deep and hungry and possessive. Reminding you that you’re his, and he’s yours. 
“Bucky,” you whisper, still floating a little. “You- You’re-“
You grind back onto him and he grunts, pinning you a little tighter against him. 
“Shit, doll- Sleep.” He sighs, kissing right under your ear and pulling one last soft gasp from your lips. “Said you’d sleep for me.”
“But-“
“You can touch me in the morning. Promise.” He sighs your name, rubbing slow circle on your hips. “Please sleep for me, baby.”
Please.
You can’t deny him if he’s saying please. 
And it’s been a shit day, but the night has been perfect. And tomorrow will be better. Maybe even just good.
Bucky’s going to be here, with you, so tomorrow will be good.
End Note: I wanna eat Chinese food with Bucky and watch Cars 2. I think it might be the most entertaining thing one could ever see, also, he's hot.
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empress-ghoul · 4 months ago
Text
Rising Waters, part three
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141 x witch!reader | old gods of appalachia au cw: supernatural elements, kidnapping, threats of violence, suicidal ideation, bodily fluids
You did not trust these men and you certainly didn’t want to help them. They had chased you through the woods - through a storm - chained you to a bed, and now acted as though they were entitled to your help for the sole reason their boss sent them to die. 
You wanted to tell them to go fuck themselves but you also wanted to live. And where would you go now? Your home was gone and there was a company of very dangerous men who apparently wanted you dead. A little protection might not be a bad thing. 
And it wasn’t exactly a choice to be made.
Your wounds, the cuts on your legs and feet, had been tended to in a way that was not kind. It was cold and efficient. Something, that thing in your chest and head, told you that whoever wrapped them learned how to do so in the military. 
These were not good men, and they seemed ready to prove that to you. 
“How exactly do you think I can help?” 
You needed to gauge just how much they had been stalking you and just how perceptive they were.
One of them, Gaz, left and returned with one of your witch bottles. The flood must have uprooted where you had buried them and Price recognized its significance. Clever dog
Gaz set the jar on the nightstand, the nails clinking softly inside. 
“Okay,” you agreed. If they wanted your help, then you were getting your protection. “You’re gonna have to get me jars and nails then. And unchain me. Can’t exactly use my hands when they’re chained to the bed.”
When you were unchained, there was no more concern from any of them about if you might run. Your discomfort was obvious and anxiousness even more obvious. It didn’t help that you were eyed like a white-tailed doe that was being watched with the eyes of four apex predators. 
Besides, you were struggling to walk on your wounded legs and trying to run would be more humiliating than anything.
You did not like the fact that in the time between being taken and waking up, you had been washed. Even if it was just the mud and earth rinsed off, you knew they–or at least one of them–had seen you naked. This was because you realized, as you fell into a chair at the kitchen table, you were put in nightdress. 
It was odd, you thought as you gazed around the house. This was not the typical, cookie cutter company house, and it certainly did not belong to the men. It was a true home, one that was not all dissimilar to your former one.
You watched them move around. Based on the dishes in the sink and laundry strewn about, they had been here for some time, but it was still foreign land to them. Just as these mountains were. The more threatening glances thrown your way, still warning you not to move, the less you wanted to know about what happened to the former inhabitants of the cabin.
Supplies were finally produced and unceremoniously dropped on the table, along with some bread and dried meat. You ate first, much to the disdain of the four men staring at you.
Not much good is done on an empty stomach is something your mama would’ve said. Though you doubted any of them would care if you mentioned that little proverb.
You finally wiped your hands on the nightgown, one that you came to notice probably belonged to a woman old enough to be your granny, and you started working.
Four mason jars with three irons nails in each, the lids wrapped in twine and sealed with black wax. 
“I need to bury ‘em,” you said finally.
You were given a spade and a bodyguard in the shape of a wolfish Scotsman, then shoved outside. The way he watched you navigate the plot of land the cabin was on was why he seemed so dog-like. His blue eyes burned into the back of your skull as you found the first corner and began digging. 
He was silent, once again reminding you of a hollow man. You knew he wasn’t, but golly could he pass as one. 
The shaking in your hands finally eased away when you finished burying the second jar. You were sweating from the humidity the storm left behind and your hands were covered in dirt and mud that had embedded itself beneath your nails. 
The soft, damp earth made for easier work, but you were still winded by the time you finished the third jar. When you finally got to starting on digging a hole for the fourth one, Soap broke the hour-long stretch of silence. 
“Gonna take a piss,” he stated, then walked into the woods. 
AKA do not fucking go anywhere. You watched him go behind a tree before continuing to dig. 
You set the jar of nails in the hole you dug, using your hands to pull the dirt back over to cover it. Then you stared at the hemlock plant that sat just behind the property line. 
Soap was walking back over to you. The hemlock was practically screaming at you. 
Take me. Use me. Crush me up and put me in their food. They’ll never know—
You grabbed a fistful of the flower and stuffed it into your pocket. 
Grind me up. Put me in their food—
They’ll never know. Those words rang in your head as you grabbed four more stems and shoved them in alongside the rest. Disposing of the bodies might be a pain, but you’d have a place to call home again.
They’ll never—
A hand grabbed the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin as Soap yanked you back and dug into your pocket with his free hand. His eyes, angry and wild, were fixed on the side of your face where your cheeks were burning. From shame or fear, you weren’t entirely certain. Probably both. 
But the feeling of his eyes, his hate-filled, animal eyes, made you wish you could just sink into the earth if it meant you’d never be looked upon by him again. 
He emptied the hemlock from your pocket and yanked you back further so your head was practically against his shoulder. The flower was almost glowing in the sunlight as he held it out for you both to see. You were staring at the scar on his temple that looked like mangled roots. 
“What is it?” he demanded. 
Poison. “Edible flowers.” Half-truth. “I couldn’t figure out if y’all were gonna feed me.”
Believe me, you thought. Please, please, please, believe me. 
“Eat one then,” Soap replied. You wanted to be sick. “You must be pretty hungry if you want to eat fuckin’ flowers. Eat one.”
His voice was so mocking and cruel, and you couldn’t tell if he’d force you to eat one if you didn’t comply. 
You thought about eating it. It wouldn’t be the most pleasant death but at least you could go down spiteful, refusing to help these dogs and letting them fend for themselves on angry land. Though, It might be slightly more merciful with him around. 
Staring at the flower clutched in this creature’s hand, you truly thought about it. Nothing would hurt you anymore. But what would they do to your body if you were gone? You had a sneaking suspicion that it would be just a matter of time before they did what all men did. The thought of your dead body being desecrated began putting out the thought of a peaceful death. 
Then you thought about the wards. 
“I’m not hungry right now.” You had to force yourself to speak, your words nearly strangling you. “Maybe later.”
It was obvious Soap wanted to continue his interrogation but he instead opted to drag you inside by the scruff. That was fine. You could still feel the tremors running through his body, even if he was trying to force them down. He was good at hiding pain. 
Price took one look at the flower in Soap’s hand and knew immediately. He grabbed you by the throat at the exact moment black bile began spewing from Soap’s mouth. 
Ghost was suddenly at his side, despite having been across the room mere moments ago. 
“Easy, J— Soap,” he corrected, patting the man on the back. 
As if that would help. 
Price looked at you with shadows over his eyes. “What did you do?"
Maybe you would shrug and pretend like you had no idea. Maybe smile and curse his bloodline. Or maybe pull a page out of your mama’s book and turn heel and run. 
Maybe if you were brave, you’d do any of those things. But you were not brave, so you just kept looking between him and Soap. 
He was on his knees now. Ghost was right next to him and Gaz had appeared with a glass of water. 
It turned to chaos when Price prepared to slap an answer out of you and the world exploded in his ears. You could see the blood trickling out of them as Ghost left Soap to prevent Price from falling over. 
Standing in the center was you. Soap had finally stopped spitting up what now looked like pure rot, while Price slowly recovered. But you remained, calm, rooted in place as you watched. It wasn’t like you there was much you could do. 
All four men stared at you as you awkwardly sat on the couch, your spine ramrod straight. Price towered over you. His hands twitched but, to his credit, he held back. 
It was odd. He was odd. You liked to pride yourself on being able to look at a person and know their motives and feelings, but with him…everything was so clouded. Murky. It was the river that carried you right to him— dirty and uncaring. 
You still saw it, though. Finally, you saw what you had been…looking for? Maybe expecting? In any case, you saw it not just Price, but in all of them. A slick coldness that crawled down your spine and that something that flickered just behind their eyes. Not quite human, but not quite animal.
“First you plot to poison us,” he began. “Then you do whatever the fuck that was. You got no idea how bad I want to put a bullet in that pretty face.”
Shame, selfishness, ugliness burned deep inside your chest. You didn’t like hurting people (and you weren’t certain you could consider them people) but it didn’t stop that nastiness from building up. Besides, they kidnapped you first. They were the ones who came to kill you. 
You kept telling yourself that but it didn’t remove the taste of self-hatred in the back of your throat. It did, however, build up the terror you’d felt since Soap had dragged you inside. 
“The wards,” you said. “If you want ‘em to work, I have to be alive. Unharmed.”
The words left your lips and you immediately noted how easily those terms could be stretched. 
You suddenly realized that you might have made a mistake by helping them—that you should have said no and taken your chances with whatever fate they dealt you—but you were desperate to survive, and those odds increased exponentially with compliance. 
Besides, what if they let you live but kicked you out? Where would you go then? Back to a ruined home? Make a barefoot trek to the main road and hope someone other than a worker from Shepherd & Graves found you? No, survival, in any form, was guaranteed this way. 
A smile pulled at Price’s mouth. More of a smirk really, but you were desperate for kindness. 
“Clever girl,” he replied. He leaned down, his hands on his knees to put himself at eye level. “You know how to stay alive. Like a fucking parasite.”
Oh. Really?
Anger, like hot oil splattering out of the skillet, was just beneath your soft skin surface. These men come to land that is not theirs and have the gall to call you a parasite. In another life you would have started shrieking and ripping his unkept beard out. Not this one, though. 
“You know what it takes to survive, dontcha?” you asked, your hand clutching the skirt of the nightgown in a tight fist. Would he notice the shaking in your voice? Would he care? “Dog eat dog world out there.”
Price nodded slowly, his dead eyes locked on you as his jaw twitched. “I do,” he confirmed. “And it is.”
“You wanted my help,” you reminded them. “But I can dig up the wards if that’s what you’d prefer and I’ll be on my way.”
There was a resounding “no” from all four men. 
“No,” Price repeated. 
He worked his jaw for a moment before smiling and making a sound that might have been a laugh. The others were not as amused, and you did not feel at ease with the rumbling sound Price made.
It wasn’t exactly a choice to be made on whether you could stay or not, because no matter how much any of them hated it, they needed you.
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naturesapphic · 2 months ago
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please, Mommy!Rhea Ripley x Little!reader who is terribly afraid of injections, which causes her insomnia and panic, and the next day Rhea takes the reader to the hospital, puts her on her lap and holds her during the procedure
(Sorry for my poor english and thank you very much. I love what you do💞)
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Shots
Mommy!rhea Ripley x little!fem!reader
Warnings: hospital, age regression, injections/shots, hurt/comfort
Last night was rough for you and your mommy Rhea. Today you were going to the doctor to get shots and you couldn’t sleep all night because of your intense nerves. The two of you now were sitting in the waiting room, waiting for the nurse to call you back. Your leg was bouncing up and down and you were picking at your fingers like crazy, almost making them bleed.
Rhea took noticed and grabbed your hands with hers and you started playing with her nails and rings. A few minutes later a short nurse with red hair came out and called your name making your anxiety worsen. You looked up at your mommy in terror and she gave you a reassuring smile instead. She took your hand and stood up, making you stand with her and the two of you went back with the nurse. She took y’all to a room and you sat on a little bed and waited for the doctor to come in.
The wait wasn’t long and soon the doctor came in with a bright smile on his face making you a little less nervous. “Ready for your shots today y/n?” He asked you and you shook your head no fast. “Awwww don’t worry! It will be over quick! You won’t even feel it!” He assured you and you still shook your head. The doctor looked over at Rhea and she nodded. She stood up and sat beside you on the bed and pulled you onto her lap.
You looked up at her in curiosity and she gave you a smile instead. The doctor got seated on a stool and came over to you with the couple of shots in his hands. Your body started to shake some from the anxiety that was invading you and Rhea held you tightly. Not to tight to restrain you but to bring you comfort. The doctor did everything to prep you and you closed your eyes, trying to only feed rheas strong arms around your shaking body.
A few minutes passed and the doctor tapped your hand gently and you opened your eyes to see bandaids on your arms. You couldn’t believe it was already over. You looked up at Rhea to see her smiling brightly at you. “You did it babygirl! I am so proud of you.” She said softly next to your ear making you blush. “I agree! You did extremely well y/n! Here. Have a lollipop!” He said happily and brought over a jar of lollipops. You smiled big, carefully reaching to your favorite flavor and grabbed one.
Rhea and you left the doctors shortly after that and you couldn’t believe how easy that visit was. You were so nervous and anxious last night and you were so glad it was finally over. “Ready for some ice cream baby? I think you deserve it after being so good and brave at the doctors.” Rhea said as she drives and with you on the passenger side. “Wes Pweasie!” You said excitedly and she smiled as she drives y’all to your favorite ice cream place to get your favorite flavor, for her brave girl.
A/n: happy Easter (or whatever you celebrate) or happy Sunday! Gonna try to be posting more but I basically have three jobs now and as soon as I get home, I’m exhausted. I hope anon that you enjoy this and everyone else does too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)
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kortac-sweetheart · 3 months ago
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Im frothing at the mouth for your blog, I love the kortac boys and ghosts so much thank you for the blessings
An offering to you is how do you think the boys (any really) would feel about an oddball lover? like weird habits, prolonged eye contact or like no eye contact, touchy or not at all, rituals they like to follow, odd social habits?
I always notice that the way reader (across like a lot of fics) are usually "normal" an opposite (usually) to the character. I want some freaky little guys together in a jar to shake around
Totally okay to say no, weird request :]
hi dear, don’t worry! not a weird rq at all, i’m intimately knowledgeable about an oddball reader bc all of that describes me lol (or past me)
i think that for kortac guys like nikto and krueger, and konig then they wouldn’t care to be honest. they’re (in their eyes) a hell of a lot weirder than you are.
nikto especially bc you accepted him (and all his alters) and they don’t see that they really have any room to judge you on your own weird habits. you’ve welcomed them entirely with open arms, why wouldn’t they extend that to you as well?
he just rolls with the punches tbh, doesn’t really push any sort of boundaries you may have, whether it be for eye contact or for physical touch. all you need to do is tug on his sleeve to catch his attention so you can murmur what you feel in that moment and he’ll adjust accordingly.
can’t make eye contact? no big deal, although do pardon nikto for his own penchant for staring at you. he just likes to look at his little love.
make too much eye contact? wonderful, he gets to stare into your eyes and admire them to their heart’s content. sometimes you two will just have a silent conversation with each other through eye contact and it freaks out the other operators a bit. (freak to freak communication /affectionate)
nikto understands your feelings about physical touch very well. they also don’t like to touch others either, makes them feel gross and they have to brush off the feeling after. doesn’t stop them from being human and craving skin-to-skin with their beloved though, because it’s you.
all in all, nikto could handle it. handle you. you handle all of him just as well, and he’s not one to half-ass anything, let alone reciprocating your love. it’s just all about communication at the end of the day.
(also don’t worry about others picking on you for your weird habits, he’s built like a brick shithouse and has a mean glare to boot no one is gonna say anything to you.)
krueger… krueger is a little meaner than nikto is. outwardly he’s not as weird as you are, he likes to tease and push your buttons a little bit. but it’s always in good fun (he’s your boyfriend after all), and never truly meant to demean you.
is always ready to throw down with someone who’s actually picking on you though, that’s a privilege that’s reserved for him and him only. you’re his little weirdo and he’ll defend you until his opponent’s dying breath (yes his opponent’s, not his bc he’s not dying lol)
and konig, we all already know that he has social anxiety. he’s in the same boat that you are, so what leg would he have to stand on to call you out for your habits? it would make him a silly hypocrite so he doesn’t mind it at all.
i think he takes comfort in it actually, knowing that he’s not alone in being a black sheep in the crowd. it’s not that he encourages your habits necessarily but he’s very accommodating for you.
if you can’t speak up then god give him strength because then he’ll do it for you. yes he loves you enough to overcome the hurdle of talking to the fast food worker that got your order wrong.
you’re both weirdos in this case but it’s a happy and loving relationship regardless.
simon is also just like nikto in this case. he’s also weird as fuck and as an off putting aura around him, so who the hell is he to judge?
as long as you openly communicate your boundaries and feelings with him that day then he’s fine with going along with your habits that day and any other day. he finds them endearing actually, price, gaz and soap all seem to be put together on the surface but you, you’re uniquely you. even if that means falling outside the norm, he likes anything that makes up you and so that extends to your weird little habits as well.
johnny is also a guy that just loves you for who you are. if you completely upheaved all those weird habits that make you, well, you; then you just wouldn’t be the same, and it would make him sad.
he doesn’t have an issue with it, he’s seen a lot weirder things in his time so this is very mild actually. finds your inability to maintain eye contact and the way you hide behind him when meeting someone new very endearing.
yeah, he’s just so in love with you and everything that makes up the foundation of you that he wouldn’t change it for the world, weird habits and all.
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noorpersona · 4 months ago
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Managerial Duties: Karasuno
The rhythmic sound of volleyballs being packed away and shoes scuffing against the polished gym floor filled the otherwise quiet space. Practice had ended, but cleanup was still in full swing. You, Yachi, and Kiyoko had stayed behind to help, making sure everything was back in place before leaving. The rest of the team was scattered around, gathering equipment and wiping down surfaces, their movements routine after countless practices.
Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were putting away the practice net while Asahi and Suga worked on reorganizing the stray volleyballs left rolling across the floor. Daichi had stepped out to check on something, leaving you with the quiet murmur of post-practice exhaustion settling in. Kageyama was off to the side, sipping from his water bottle while keeping an eye on Hinata’s usual spot. The gym carried an air of mild fatigue, a contrast to the high-energy chaos that had occupied it just minutes ago.
That’s when Yachi’s voice cut through the calm. "Where are they?"
You looked up from where you had been wiping down one of the benches, catching the way Yachi’s brows furrowed, her gaze darting around the gym like she had just realized something was missing.
"Who?" you asked, already bracing yourself for the answer.
"Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Hinata. They’re gone."
Your movements slowed as you scanned the gym again, this time with sharper focus. Sure enough, the usual ruckus that followed the three of them like a storm cloud was eerily absent. Your stomach dropped slightly, already knowing that their silence was far more concerning than their noise. It was never a good sign when they were quiet—never.
Kiyoko sighed, finishing her task before speaking. "Can you go find them? They need to be supervised."
You snorted, shaking your head. "Aye aye, captain."
But you knew what she meant. If they were up to something—and they most certainly were—it was better to find them before they actually did whatever half-brained scheme they had cooked up this time. With a nod, you handed your rag to Yachi and stepped out of the gym, making your way toward the clubroom with a sense of impending doom curling in your chest. The halls were eerily quiet, save for the occasional squeak of sneakers against linoleum, and that only furthered your suspicions.
As you got closer, muffled voices reached your ears, their tones a mix of excitement and hushed anticipation. That was never a good sign. You pressed closer, listening as Nishinoya’s voice carried through the door.
"Steady, steady! Just a little more—"
You didn’t hesitate, pushing the door open, and the sight before you made you stop in your tracks.
What the actual hell.
Nishinoya was perched on Tanaka’s shoulders, gripping a bucket of water with both hands while wobbling precariously. Tanaka, legs slightly bent, was visibly struggling to keep steady, his teeth gritted in effort. Off to the side, Hinata was bouncing on the balls of his feet, fists clenched in excitement, watching the process unfold like a kid on Christmas morning.
Your eyes flickered to the bucket, then back to the three of them. "What the hell are you guys doing?"
All three of them froze. Nishinoya’s grip tightened on the bucket, Tanaka swayed slightly, and Hinata turned toward you with an enormous grin, completely oblivious to the growing sense of dread pooling in your gut.
"Oh! Manager! You’re just in time!" Nishinoya chirped, grinning like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar but still thinking he could talk his way out of trouble.
Tanaka groaned under Nishinoya’s weight, his arms tightening around his legs as he tried to keep his balance. "We’re gonna prank Tsukishima!" he declared with absolute confidence, as if this wasn’t one of the worst ideas they had ever come up with.
Hinata, practically vibrating with excitement, threw his hands up like he had just scored the winning point. "I’m the bait!" he announced proudly, beaming at you like you should be impressed.
You blinked at him, not even bothering to hide your disbelief. "That’s not something to be proud of. Why did you guys drag him into this?" You jabbed a finger in Hinata’s direction, because there was no way he had come up with this on his own. He was many things, but this level of reckless planning was usually Nishinoya and Tanaka’s specialty.
Hinata blinked, looking genuinely confused as he tilted his head. "Tsukishima?" he asked, his tone innocent. "Or me?"
You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Never mind. This is a terrible idea."
Nishinoya, ever the stubborn one, pouted. "Come on, it’s perfect! Tsukishima walks in, bam! Instant karma!"
You crossed your arms, eyeing the way Tanaka’s legs were starting to tremble. "Yeah, except karma usually doesn’t involve potential concussions and water damage."
"Okay, but look!" Nishinoya beamed, adjusting his grip. "It’s balancing! We got this!"
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "No, you don’t—"
Too late. Nishinoya made the final adjustment, and the bucket settled, wobbling slightly before holding steady above the doorway. With a triumphant grin, Nishinoya pumped his fists—only to realize he was still on Tanaka’s shoulders. In a flash, he scrambled down, nearly toppling them both in the process. Tanaka staggered, arms flailing to keep himself upright as Nishinoya hopped off, landing with an eager bounce before spinning toward Hinata. "Alright! We’re good to go!" he whispered excitedly, rubbing his hands together like an evil mastermind.
Hinata gasped. "It worked!"
"It worked!" Nishinoya hissed.
You groaned. "This is still a bad idea."
But they weren’t listening. With a determined nod, Hinata scampered back toward the gym, his voice carrying through the hall. "Tsukishima! Oi, come here for a sec!"
Silence.
Then—
Footsteps, slow and steady, echoed through the hallway. Each step was deliberate, methodical, like the sound of impending doom marching ever closer. Tanaka, Nishinoya, and you turned toward the doorway in perfect synchronization, a creeping sense of dread washing over you like an oncoming storm. The playful anticipation that had been buzzing in the air evaporated, leaving behind only the cold bite of realization.
Daichi appeared in the doorway, and time seemed to slow. The bucket teetered precariously for a split second before tipping forward, a perfect arc of water cascading down in slow motion. The moment it made contact, Daichi’s entire frame stiffened, his breath hitching as the cold liquid soaked through his hair, dripping down his face and pooling in the folds of his jacket. His usually composed expression was eerily blank, too calm, too quiet, which somehow made everything infinitely worse.
Tanaka’s face morphed from exhilaration to pure horror, his eyes so wide they looked ready to pop out of his skull. Nishinoya’s grin faltered, his entire body rigid as his mind struggled to process the disaster that had just unfolded. And you? You could already feel the headache forming, your lips parting slightly in silent resignation.
Hinata, standing just behind Daichi, let out a small, strangled noise. "No, wait! Don’t—!"
Splash.
The air went still. Slowly, you peeked around the doorframe just in time to see Daichi standing there, drenched from head to toe. Water dripped from his hair, his jacket clinging to him in soaked patches. His expression was eerily blank, which was infinitely worse than immediate rage.
Hinata was mid-step, looking like he had seen his life flash before his eyes.
Tanaka and Nishinoya were frozen, as if staying completely still would erase what had just happened.
The silence stretched, unbearably tense.
You exhaled through your nose and turned away. "I told you."
Then, without another word, you walked off, leaving them to their fate.
Behind you, all hell broke loose.
"YOU IDIOTS!" Daichi’s voice roared, shaking the very foundation of the building.
"RUN!" Nishinoya shrieked, bolting toward the hallway with the kind of agility that came only from the fear of divine punishment. His feet barely touched the ground as he shot past you, arms pumping as if sheer speed could somehow make him disappear from Daichi’s wrath.
Hinata scrambled backward, hands raised in surrender. "It wasn’t me, I swear!"
Kageyama, who had been returning from the locker room, took one look at the chaos and deadpanned, "You guys are so dumb."
Asahi groaned, covering his face. "I don’t want to be associated with this."
Back in the gym, you rejoined Yachi and Kiyoko just as Daichi’s furious yelling echoed in the distance.
Kiyoko barely looked up from where she was stacking volleyballs. "They’re idiots."
You sighed, running a hand down your face. "Hundred percent."
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cosmicpearlz · 6 months ago
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christmas wishes and kisses
summary: he was determined to confess tonight. preferably under the mistletoe, but the universe had other plans.
pairing: jude bellingham x reader
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jude can count on both hands, how many times he's lost y/n in the crowd. one too many times for his liking. the annual christmas party that vini threw was in full swing. from member of real madrid being there to other celebrities and friends. but all jude wanted was alone time with y/n. something he couldn't get for the life of him tonight.
"you find her yet?" jobe clasps his hand onto jude's shoulder. the older boy sighs and shakes his head.
"no! i haven't seen her since she was talking to luka's wife."
"you had a whole plan though, right?”
"yes, i was supposed to bring her to one of the spare rooms that vini has and when we stand under the door, the mistletoe is gonna be there. then, i was planning on telling her how i felt."
"well don't give up now brother. there's still time."
-
you were nursing your second drink. originally coming to the party just to see jude. possibly hangout with him. and who knows, maybe even score a kiss or two. you've always liked the boy ever since you met him. remembering the way you guys became quick friends after he accidentally hit you with the door that he was walking out of. Jude refused to leave your side, 'in case something happens', is what he kept saying.
"livie, have you seen jude?" you yell over the loud music. your best friend shakes her head.
"no, i haven't. i did hear that he's looking for you too!" your heart skipped a beat.
"i'll just continue my search for him. if you see him before I do, let him know that I'm looking for him please."
"sure thing babes," olivia squeezes your shoulder and nods. you place your hand on hers, giving a light squeeze back before making your way around the house again. this time heading towards the kitchen area.
-
moving through bodies started to become exhausting. jude was starting to give up. the boy can't remember how many people he's ran to anymore, but he knew that it wasn't the person he wanted to see. heading to the kitchen with his head down, he bumps into another body.
"sorry," jude mutters, still not looking up from the ground.
"we've gotta stop meeting like this." the boy's head perks up, hearing the familiar voice. the one person he's wanted to be alone with the entire night.
"sorry y/n. i didn't see you there."
"yeah, too busy looking at the ground. heard you were looking for me though," you smiled brightly at the boy.
"can i show you something?" jude blurred out before he could think twice. the night had been long enough, and this conversation was long over due.
"lead the way, golden boy."
jude grabs your hand, leading upstairs. vini had sectioned that part of the house off. the music becoming slightly muffed. it was perfect and away from the crowd.
"what's going on jude?" you asked, as he stopped in front of a door. you gazed at him with confusion in your eyes.
"y/n, i don't regret hitting you with that door when we first met."
"hey! that's rude," you jokingly pushed his shoulder.
"what i mean is that i'm grateful to have you in my life. you're the best person to be around and i want to soak up every moment with you, just to bottle in it a jar and keep it forever. there aren't enough words to describe how you make me feel," jude grabs both of your hands and holds them gently in his.
"what i'm about to say may ruin our friendship. but i must put it out there. i really like you." you giggled and squeezed his hands softly.
"i really like you too. i'm so glad you said that!"
"no y/n, i like you. as in like like you."
"jude are we in middle school? i really like you too is what i'm trying to tell you!"
"ohh."
"yeah, ohh," you playfully mocked him, still sporting a small smile. jude begins to smile and looks towards to the celling. you follow his eyes. finding mistletoe hanging on the doorway.
"did you plan this?"
"maybe. do you like it?"
"it's corny." jude becomes bashful and looks down. almost pulling his hands from yours, before you tighten the grip you had on his.
"that doesn't mean i don't like it. i think you're very sweet and romantic. confessing your feelings for me under the mistletoe."
"can i kiss you?"
"i've only been waiting for a couple of months now," you grin up at him. the boy matches your grin, pulling you into a kiss. certainly, this was long overdue, but it was completely worth the wait.
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thanksbutno98 · 10 months ago
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Date Day
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John Price x wife!reader OC
Summary: John Price is roped into a daddy daughter date with his two little girls.
Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, not edited.
——————
“Who are we!?”
“Price’s!”
“And what are we!?”
“Tough!”
John’s two little girls shouted back. He grinned down at them proud as ever. Evelyn now nine and Lily three had their fists clenched and determined looks on their cute faces. It was John’s job to hype them up and remind them how strong they were because they were his tough little girls.
“Evelyn and Lily Price.” A monotone voice called from behind the reception counter.
“Tough!” Lily shouted again hearing her last name being called. Ignoring the odd looks from others in the waiting room John snickered as the three year old threw her tiny fists in the air seemingly feeling she could take on the world.
“Okay you two, let’s do this.” John offered a hand to hold for both his daughters, then smiled politely to the receptionist and followed the hallways to where she pointed and what room to go to.
Rounding the corner, both hands holding one of each of his daughters he brought them to their destination. The room was a small square one with white walls and pictures of deep sea life hung around. There was a short counter with grey cabinets above and below. Placing a few needles into the sharps container hung on the wall the nurse in navy scrubs turned to see her next two visitors.
“Well hello there, Lily and Evelyn. I’m nurse Rachel, I know it’s been awhile but I’m happy to see you.” She had a sweet voice as she looked at the two little girls in front of her. From her perspective the older one looked determined and ready to take on anything while the littler one seemed like she had a bucket of cold water tossed over her. Patting the blue medical chair the blonde haired woman smiled sweetly.
“Hi, nurse Rachel.” Evelyn waved remembering the nurse from her last doctor’s appointment that you took her to.
“Who’s first? I have lollies when we’re all done.” She asked.
John was looking down to see if there was a brave volunteer but both girls heads snapped up to look at him. Lily had big tears in her eyes while Evelyn looked stone faced but her grip had tightened extraordinarily in John’s hand.
“Evie, why don’t you go first. Show Lily how brave you are.” John smiled at her reassuringly. Evelyn quirked an eyebrow and got a very sassy look on her face.
“I’m not getting poked for a lollie. It’s gonna take more than that.” John’s face fell at her words. Of course he was about to be in a shake down with his nine year old, what else was new. Tugging on John’s hand he brought his attention to the sniffling Lily.
“Can we go home? I don’t like it here.” She was talking pathetically as tears rolled down her cute chubby cheeks.
“Sweetheart, we have to stay and do this so we don’t get the flu.” John tried to be as sweet as possible but Lily only shook her head frantically.
“No!” Lily reluctantly looked at the nurse which was unlike her. Lily hated strangers and John was surprised to see the three year old building up the courage to ask something.
“Can I still have the lollie?” Lily’s cute little hand extended as she expected a ‘yes’ in return to her question.
“Oh sweetie-“
“The blue one.” Lily pointed at the jar of sweets sitting on the counter.
“Okay, enough. We’re doing this because sometimes we have to do things we don’t like. You’ll get the lollie after.” John picked up the three year old and moved to plop her down in the blue medical arm chair.
What he was not expecting was for Lily to shriek at the top of her lungs and begin kicking and scratching at John like a wild animal. She turned from a weeping mess to a rabid little girl in seconds. Clawing her nails against any part of John she could reach, smooshing her hand in his bearded face to get him away, and kicking off against him to be put down.
“Lily, stop.” John tried to wrangle her but she was squirming too much. She was a tiny child but a slippery one. John couldn’t quite get a grip on her but when he did she screamed as if she’d been stabbed.
“MUMMY!! MUMMY HELP!!” Lily screamed at the top of her lungs right before sinking her teeth into John’s bicep.
Nurse Rachel was watching the struggle not wanting to step in. Her job was hard enough and she didn’t need to get bitten by a child today. This was also her first time seeing your daughters giving anyone trouble. Normally when you were here with them you were in and out, she knew you as one of her quickest visits.
“Fuck, I mean, Damn. Shit! SHOOT!” John was too preoccupied by the pain radiating up his arm to be able to control his language, but he tried.
He was struggling to get Lily to let go as she bit down harder. John had no doubt Lily was scrappy even though she was such a timid and easy to tears. She was fighting for her life over a flu shot and ready to shred John to ribbons. She was truly his daughter, no doubt about that.
“How about you go first?” Nurse Rachel turned to Evelyn who was watching her dad try and get Lily under control but it looked like he was being attacked by a wild bobcat.
“Ten quid.” Evelyn looked at Nurse Rachel and then back to her father who was now bringing Lily into the hallway to most likely have a chat and calm her down.
“Well you two are some feisty girls.” She chuckled.
“I’ll tell your dad he owes you ten quid.” Patting the chair Evelyn stopped herself before hoping up into it. A lightbulb buzzed to life above her head.
“Ten quid and a daddy daughter date after this.” Evelyn added which seemed to surprise the nice young nurse. Evelyn knew without John here to bargain she could get a lot more than normal.
“What do you usually do on a daddy daughter date?” Nurse Rachel was a bit dumbfound at the young girls gumption.
“Ice cream, cinema, fancy dinner.” Evelyn rattled off the events from her last date day with John. Nurse Rachel sighed and stuck her head out into the hallway to see if she could get some back up from dad.
John was now soothing Lily who was crying her eyes out and floundering in his arms. She had snot dripping down her nose and was wiping it all across John’s black long sleeve quarter zip. She was crying like she’d already gotten the shot when the needle hadn’t even been taken out yet.
“Your daughters-“ Before the nurse could finish John interjected.
“Yeah, she’s a mafia boss incarnate. She can have whatever she’s asking for.” John couldn’t focus on Evelyn at the moment he needed to get Lily in a place where she would sit still to get her flu shot.
“Great, thanks.” The nurse paused for a second to ask a question that would hopefully kill some tension. This was her first time meeting John but she had met you a few times and gathered you had a good sense of humor so your husband must too.
“She take after you or your wife?” Nudging her head toward the room she asked about Evelyn. The playful joke had John scoffing.
“My wife. Who’s a lot better at handling all this.” John lightly chuckled thinking about how you would probably have this completely under control.
“Well if Evelyn’s a mafia boss incarnate I can only imagine what your wife’s capable of.” With a smile that didn’t hide all her judgement Nurse Rachel went back in the room.
“Okay, it’s a deal. But you both have to get your shots.” Nurse Rachel’s counter offer had Evelyn’s eyes narrowing.
“Fair.” Sticking out her hand Evelyn shook on it.
——————
Walking out of the little square room with an orange lollie in her mouth Evenly smiled and waved at Lily. She flexed her right arm like she had seen John do when you asked to see his muscles and showed off her bright green bandaid.
“C’mon, Lil your turn.” The nine year old chimed. She was playing up the positive attitude so her sister didn’t ruin the deal she made. Because if Lily did it meant Evelyn only got poked for a lollie and that wasn’t worth it.
“No!” Lily shouted in a bratty tone.
She was completely wiped, exhausted after the massive tantrum she just threw. Her face was smooshed against John’s chest as he had her hoisted in his arms with her legs dangling on either side of him and rubbing her back. John also felt exhausted and was gazing down at Evelyn with so much appreciation for trying to get Lily to get her shot.
“You can sit in daddy’s lap and he’s gonna take us on a date after.” Giving her little sister an expecting look she watched as the brattiness began to crumble away.
“A daddy date? Where?” Lily asked in a small voice, the notion was beginning to persuade her. John only sighed heavily and looked around wondering how he was not apart of this conversation. Of course what was suppose to only be an hour of his day would now consume the entirety of it.
“I say cinema, but after we can go to a fancy dinner.” The way Evelyn drew out the word fancy had Lily shaking her head instantly.
“But we need pretty dresses.” The three year old countered.
“Well that’s a given. Now cmon.”
John wasn’t sure if he felt blessed for his oldest daughter or terrified of her. She was exactly like you, perfectly reasonable in the most diabolical way. Both your and her ability to get exactly what you wanted with such ease gave John whiplash. John couldn’t even say no at this point because he just wanted Lily to get the damn shot so they could all leave.
“Okay.” Lily agreed and then shook her head for John to carry her into the room.
——————
“You’re what?” You asked stepping out of your bedroom and into the upstairs hallways. John had his bottom leaning against the banister that ran down the hallway, then turned right and stopped at the wall in front of Lily’s room. His head was bowed and arms crossed over his chest.
“Taking the girls on a date.” He repeated, sounding a bit dejected.
“Thought you were going to help me go through the boxes in the basement before dinner?” Staring at your husband with a confused look you expected him to back pedal and tell you he forgot.
“I was. Until I had a shake down with our nine year old because her and Lily refused to get their shots.” John picked his head up and finally looked at you. With lips fixed in a firm line you could see how annoyed he was.
“Ah, I see. You didn’t bribe them before hand? Rookie move.” The smile you wore was wicked as you teased the man you loved most dearly. Normally you did shots and routine doctor’s appointments while John took the kids to the dentist and any specialist they needed to see, like the eye doctor or dermatology.
“Bribe them before. You’re fucking brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?” John spoke more to himself.
“I just hyped them up. Had them cheering about how tough they were.” John spoke absolutely exasperated.
“Been there. They’re tough until they’re in the room. Then it devolves into chaos.” You rolled your eyes remembering the last time you brought your three children to get shots at their old doctor’s office. Jj was the only one to get his shot without a fuss.
“Lily mauled me like a fucking feral cat. Bit me too!” It was obvious John was upset about what happened but knowing you’d been in his shoes too made it not so bad.
“I was wondering what those little claw marks were.” You pointed to John’s neck where he had tiny little scratch marks running down the side.
“What do you normally bribe them with?” Every fiber of John’s being needed to know this so he wouldn’t get bit again.
“The candy shop and they can each pick out three things. I also sit with Lily and let her watch something on my phone to distract her.” Your strategy of dealing with your children had John staring at you in awe.
“You’ve never been more sexy than you are in this moment.” John was so captivated by your ingenuity, it reminded him how in love he was with your mind.
“Quite the testimonial. You’re not so bad yourself.” The compliment had your face heating up and put a giddy smile across your lips. You’d be jumping his bones before bed tonight for that comment alone.
“So next weekend for the boxes then?” You asked needing to make sure you two rescheduled before John booked himself with another activity.
“Yes.” He spoke with a huff.
Bringing his arm up he waved you to come closer so he could tuck you into his side. You happily waltzed over and slid under his arm, wrapping your own around his waist and snuggling in to him. Kissing the top of your head John smiled contently, he felt like the luckiest man everyday because of you.
“What ‘fancy’ restaurant did they ask for?” It was cute to you what your daughter considered fancy over what was an actual fancy restaurant. Every daddy daughter date consisted of the girls going somewhere fancy and ending it with sweets.
“The Italian one.” John practically groaned the words out.
“Good luck.” You snorted out sarcastically, you and John hated that place.
“Yeah, I’ll bring Jj the spaghetti and some garlic bread. Text me what you want me to pick you up on the way back. Might just get a salad and get something from wherever you want.” Looking up at John you shook your head in acknowledgment. Then bounced up on your toes to meet him half way for a sweet little peck on the lips.
“Indian?” You asked knowing John had been craving it. He hadn’t outright said it but you watched as the takeout menu was looked at longer than any other a few times this week.
“You read my mind.” He mumbled kissing you again.
“I’m ready!” Lily’s cute bashful voice called down the hall as she stepped out of her room. She blinked at you both looking self conscious for being so young.
“So pretty!” You gasped dramatically and covered your mouth, it had the little girl smiling widely and twisting back and forth.
Lily was dressed in her Cinderella costume from this past year that was too small. The blue dress was just getting snug around her torso and the skirt that use to hit the floor was half way up her shins. She had on bright orange socks that went up to her knees, a plastic tiara, and green sneakers.
“Well aren’t you beautiful Ms Lily Cinderella.” John was quick to compliment his youngest.
Squatting down he waved her over and Lily quickly ran down the hall into her daddy’s arms. This past October Lily demanded she be called Lily Cinderella even though she wore something different for the actual day of Halloween. That entire month she had to wear her Cinderella dress whenever you let her, which was more often than you liked to admit; which was odd because Lily hated the movie. There were a couple times it had started to smell particularly bad and peeled it off of her once she fell asleep. You thought she only wore the dress because Evelyn told her she would’ve named her Cinderella if she got to choose and Evelyn was the coolest person to Lily.
“Lily Cinderella!” Evelyn cheered as she came out of her room that John was squatted in front of. Turning to you she gave you a snarky smile.
“Told you, you should’ve named her Cinderella.” Evelyn had begged and begged for you and John to name her little sister Cinderella back when you were pregnant with Lily but you obviously refused.
“And look at that. My other beautiful little girl.” John was still squatting with his back to you as he extended his arm to bring Evelyn into the hug he and Lily were sharing. His comment made Evelyn bashful in the blink of an eye. She turned sweeter than sugar and hugged John around the neck while he rubbed her back.
Evelyn was dressed in a short sleeve lavender tulle dress. The puffy skirt came down to her skinned knees that were decorated in ninja turtles bandaids. She had on a matching pair of Mary Jane’s and her hair was tied up in a high ponytail from when she asked you to put it up when she got home. You thought she was going to play outside not get all dressed up.
“Well you two have fun with your dad. Let him spoil you rotten.” You winked at your two little girls who giggled wildly.
“Wait mum. What are you and Jj going to do?” Evelyn asked, seemingly now remembering she had an older brother as he walked up the stairs to see where everyone was.
“Daddy date?” Jj asked seeing his little sisters all dressed up.
“Probably have a date day ourselves.” You gave Jj a smile then winked, his whole face lit up.
“No way! Can we go to the arcade?” Jj asked, already making his way down the hall to his room to change because he knew you’d say yes.
“Wait! Take me to the museum and let me see all the stuff in storage! It’s so cool there after hours when no one’s there!” Jj walked right back out of his room having changed his mind. You laughed that out of anything he could choose from, he wanted to go to your work to snoop around the exhibits not on display and have the place to himself.
“No fair, I want to do that.” Evelyn looked at you with a big frown.
“Next date day we’ll swap. I get you two and your dad gets Jj.”
——————
“How’d you like the film?” John was staring over at his two little girls.
He was currently dressed in black slacks with a grey polo tucked in and a shiny black belt. His shoes were sleek black loafers and he had a grey peacoat draped over the back of his chair. Before he left you made him change into this outfit you laid out for him. Telling him he better dress nice since his girls put so much effort to look nice for him. John conceded quickly since you normally told him the same thing when you got all dolled up. He also loved wearing slacks around you because you couldn’t stop yourself from complimenting his ass, but he would never admit this out loud.
The three of them were currently sitting at a white clothed table at a pretty average Italian restaurant. It was a local place with fake brick, old red leather booths that were peeling, and a statue of a very stereotypical looking Italian man with a mustache and white chefs outfit at the front. The walls were painted to look like stucco and filled with pictures of Italy and some black and white photos from what looked to be the 50’s in the US.
The girls thought this was the fanciest place to ever exist. You and John usually shared apprehensive looks whenever it was the kids turn to choose where you all went and they chose here. It’s not that you and John were snobs; but you kind of were when it came to food. When the pair of you thought about Italian food you reminisced about your time in Bologna, Venice, and Rome. So the Italian places you two went to by yourself tended to be authentic and very upscale. Although John was partially happy his kids didn’t have as refined tastes as you and he did or the bill would leave his wallet empty.
“It was funny.” Lily said with her mouth full. Her blue Cinderella dress was splattered with red sauce and had a grease stain down the middle from when she hugged the garlic bread because she ‘loved’ it.
“It was really good! Mum would’ve loved it.” Evelyn was twirling her pasta on her spoon and then attempting to be graceful as she tried to take her bite. It slipped off the fork and fell into her lap. She pick it up noodle by noodle and ate it after saying a meek sorry. She would always get embarrassed not having good table manners much like you and John.
“Your mum would’ve loved it.” John chuckled seeing the messes Evelyn and Lily had become. They left the house pristine and would be returning in clothes that you normally saw as a before picture for an Oxiclean commercial.
John continued to pick at his salad, stomach growling. It made him happy to see his daughters enjoying themselves but he truly hated the food at this place. He needed to start taking them to spots he liked so they’d hopefully pick one of them as their new ‘fancy’ spot.
“We should get tears in me soup for dessert.” The idea seemed to pop into Lily’s head as she looked to John. John stared back absolutely perplexed at what she was asking for.
“It’s tears me sue, Lily.” Evelyn spoke as if her sister were an idiot. Thats when it clicked for John.
“Tiramisu. It’s called tiramisu.” It took everything in John to not laugh at his daughter’s mistake. He’d made the unfortunate mistake of laughing when Lily got the name of something wrong once and she refused to look in his direction for an entire day. Evelyn too hated being laughed at and would usually become combative.
“Daddy, it’s tears in me soup. Don’t be silly.” Lily thought her father was trying to pull a fast one on her so she didn’t believe him.
“Tiramisu. Tir-a-mi-su.” John tried to break it down.
Evelyn and Lily continued to practice so they could order when the waitress came. Evelyn nailed it when they ordered it while Lily tried to fade into the background and pretend she wasn’t there. After a dessert John found overly sweet and soggy he escorted his little princess to his truck. Opening their doors and helping them in he reminded them this is how they should always be treated on dates. He got some snarky comments that of course they knew that, and who else would be taking them on dates. Their response had John relieved as the days of dating were still a far away thought for him to worry about.
John took the scenic way home and stopped at the local shop to pick up snacks. The girls begged to watch a movie before bed but they needed the proper snacks and just one fizzy drink to split. Being the man he was, being pouted at with big blue puppy dog eyes John was giving in almost instantly. Pulling out his phone he recorded his girls in depth discussion on what crisp they should share and what went better with the fizzy drink they picked out. After sending it to you John received a video of Jj wandering around a dimly lit museum with a flash light. He could see your nights had been totally different and part of him was jealous, because a museum after dark seemed like a lot of fun.
“You two sure about the movie? Why don’t we pick up extra snacks and meet your mum and Jj at the museum.” Looking up from his phone he gazed down at the two little girls in the candy isle.
“Museum after dark Lily!” Spinning around quickly from the candy Evelyn’s eyes were huge as she silently screamed for Lily to agree.
“Is it spoopy?” Lily asked when she really meant ‘spooky.’ She had an apprehensive look and seemed unimpressed by the idea.
“Not if dad holds you!” Evelyn countered.
“It’s not spooky. Your mum will keep the lights on for you.” John’s explanation seemed to be convincing enough for the three year old.
“Okay, fine. But we have to bring mummy a wine.” With big blue eyes Lily poked John’s belly to emphasize her point.
“A wine?” John snorted out a laugh and then broke out into a bit of a chuckle. He wasn’t expecting that.
“She loves a wine with dinner.” Lily’s words had Evelyn shaking her head in agreement.
John was starting to laugh harder at the girls perception of you. It wasn’t common you had wine at dinner, it was usually saved for when the wine paired well with whatever you made, which wasn’t often. John remembered you saying that on the phone the other day when your dad had invited you out for your own daddy daughter date. Lily must have heard you and locked that in as something her mummy loved.
“I mean who doesn’t.” John countered, being the one who more commonly had wine with dinner even when it didn’t pair well.
“But let’s not tell people that. It makes your mummy sound not very mum like.” Squatting down John gave Lily a wink hoping to nip this in the bud before you heard her say it. He knew you’d be floored and feel self conscious if Lily told you that.
“Okay, but we can still bring her one right?”
“Right.”
——————
“Thanks for dinner, dad!” Jj was just tossing his takeaway container out having scarfed down his food.
You and John were sat on a bench that ran down the center of a vast long hallway. It was the west wing of the museum that connected the main building to the astronomy center. It was where the museum had the most foot traffic as most people came to see the expansive exhibit on space.
You used this grand hallway as a place to showcase your newest collections so they would get the attention you thought they deserved. The past year you had been planning on what would replace the Egyptian exhibit that use to be here. You had been gathering what you saw as extraordinary piece of Mesopotamian artifacts. You had gotten your hands on one of a kind pieces. There were ancient stone carvings of lions being hunted, while the others were similar to mosaics with how the royal blue stone was carved to depict historical events.
There were large grand wooden display cases filled with artifact that were meticulously labeled with dates and descriptions. They stretched the length of both sides of the room with breaks in between them where the art was hung on the wall and statues were on display.
John could see the countless hours you had poured into this exhibit. He found himself laying in bed with you absolutely captivated as you showed him different artifact on your laptop and explained their significance and origin. There were nights you both were up until the wee hours of the morning as John listened to you proofread aloud the descriptions that now hung on the walls around him.
“Please keep an eye on your sisters.” John’s voice carried down the hallways as Jj went to meet up with Evelyn and Lily. They were sitting on the marble stairs that lead into the astrology center playing some made up game.
“Sure thing.” Jj called back.
“Evie, no trouble. I mean it. Not at your mums work this stuff is priceless.” To make his point clear John stood to get his oldest daughter’s attention.
“Okay, we are gonna look at the solar system show.” She called back with a wave and smile as the three children took off.
“Good choice!” You hummed, it was more for John to hear than your children. It was the main attraction here so you knew it would captivate your children.
“You trust they’re not going to get into anything?” John looked at you skeptically for having such trust in your trouble makers.
“Yeah, I’ve brought them here enough, they know better. And what’s the worst that could happen? They learn something?” You joked which fell on deaf ears.
“Or they break something.” John gave you an expecting look as he sat back down next to you on the shiny large wooden bench. You were putting the lid back on your unfinished dinner but he waved you to stop. With a chuckle you handed it to him so he could finish it off and there would be nothing to take home.
“Everything’s behind glass, unless they shatter the display cases I think we’re good.” Handing over the container you watched as John made what would be 8 bites for yourself three massive ones. He gave you another look as if to say ‘don’t put it past them.’
You were sitting criss cross on the bench while John was sat upright with both feet on the ground. Leaning back you placed your hands behind you and lounged back. You sat in silence as John finished up eating and you had another chance to admire your handiwork. It took you and your staff six weeks putting this together behind burlap curtains. You had gotten some flack from the owner of the museum as to why this exhibit was taking longer than usual, he shut up quick when he saw the results.
“You’ve done a great job here, darling. How long did it take to put it all together?” John gestured to the new exhibit you two were enjoying.
“At least a year of research, gathering, and pulling favors. A little over a month to set up.” It sounded like a long time but to you it flew by. It had been fun getting this all done and you were proud of yourself.
“You have a favorite piece?” John asked, tossing the empty container into the takeaway bag behind him. You pointed to the stone carving you two were sat in front of.
“The lion being hunted down by arrow. Absolutely hypnotizing to see such a powerful majestic animal being taken down by man and his tools. The craftsmanship is impeccable, you can see the animals stubbornness and unwillingness to fall. The king, slayed by bow.” The stone piece was the hardest to obtain and the most fascinating.
John silently took in the piece again and admired it more so after hearing you speak. Your passion for history and archeology was something he admired about you. Even after all these years, marriage, three children, a life together, you still had that twinkle in your eye that you had the very first day John met you. The passion you chose as your career was as fulfilling as the day you stepped on your first dig sight, and it was apparent in the way you spoke.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it.” Your eyes scanned over the ancient Mesopotamian art. The smooth stone glistening in the display lights.
“It’s gorgeous.” John had looked from the art you were captivated by to your beautiful features.
“Ancient but beautiful.” You hummed having spent more time than you’d admit down here admiring this new exhibit; when you really should’ve been doing paper work.
“Time has a way of making things more beautiful.” John’s smoky voice had you looking at him. His blue eyes were soft as he took in the sight of the woman that had brought him everything in life he could ask for. Similar to you he found himself captivated by the most beautiful piece of art in the room, that he happened to be lucky enough to fall asleep next to every night.
“You still talking about the exhibit.” You breathed, feeling your heart flutter. The way John was looking at you made you feel like you did all those years ago when you first met. He left you with butterflies and a tingling sensation that lit up your skin.
“No.” Speaking softly John leaned forward, one large calloused hand cupping your jaw and fingers sliding into your flowing hair. Kissing your soft lips you melted into your husband.
“Absolutely divine.” John’s hot breath ghosted over your lips as he pulled away for only a moment. Capturing your lips again he kissed you tenderly and then deeply. Savoring the way you tasted on his tongue and how you lightly gasped when he sucked on your bottom lip.
“OoooOooOo.” Lily’s sweet voice echoed down the hall.
Pulling away with flushed cheeks you let out a small breathy laugh. John gave you a charming smirk and wink. Leaning over John could see his youngest peaking her head around the marble corner with a cheeky smile.
“What are you looking at?” John playfully joked.
“You and mummy smoochin’.” The cadence of her voice was sweet and mischievous. Running down the hallways her little green sneakers tapped against the marble floors.
“We can finish up later when we’re at home.” You whispered to a now largely grinning John. His cheeks looked like they may just burst from how big you had him grinning.
“Can’t wait to show you how beautiful you are.”
~~~~~tag list~~~~~
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darknight3904 · 2 months ago
Text
Every Breath You Take
Chapter Six- Good Vibrations
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Summary: A prepper restores your little group's faith in humanity, and you and Tommy decide to spend your evening celebrating in bed together.
Warnings for this part: Canon typical violence, themes, language, gore, and horror. Smut 18+, use of a sex toy, p in v, oralF!receiving ,riding Tommy Miller like a horse (as nature intended, ofc). Check the Series Masterlist for expanded warnings.
Word Count 3.6K
Previous Part / Series Masterlist / The Last of Us Masterlist
April 2005, Allensville, Pennsylvania 
Robin Williams once said, “Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'". And sure, there wasn’t much to celebrate these days, but right now you felt like you were on top of the world. With the snow gone, your little group had set out to canvas some of the other homes that were within a few-mile radius. An unassuming, puke green home was the last one for the day, you were all tired, and the baby was getting restless in his sling, a scarf that Lara held him with. You’re pretty sure all the kid wants is to be held, since he hasn’t cried once since she put him in there this morning. 
Joel pried the front door open with a crowbar, and you expected to see what you’d been seeing: an abandoned home, a few odd cans of food, and dusty clothes. Instead, you’re met with a gold mine. 
A prepper. A fucking prepper lived in this home. 
You could cry right now, break down, and never get up as you held a can of Campbell’s tomato soup in your hands. Even Joel looks surprised as he takes in the abundance of things. Perfectly organized in different bins and labeled bags, you swore you were seeing things. 
Tommy lets out a low whistle, his hands running over a huge box of ammunition, “How the hell are we gonna carry all this back?” 
“We’ll figure it out.” You hum, walking over to where he stands, handing him a jar of peanut butter, “How long has it been since you had a spoonful of peanut butter?” 
A chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his dark facial hair tickling your face as he pulls away, “Too damn long.” 
Joel approaches the two of you, Tommy’s hands loosening from where they wrap around your waist to take the box Joel holds out. 
Trojan Ultra Thins Value Pack! 36 Count!
Your face goes hot in embarrassment as Tommy chokes on his spit, taking the box and quietly thanking Joel. 
“There’s a whole box of ‘em, can’t have any more babies running around,” Joel mumbles before walking off to survey the many bins of canned foods you now have. 
Tommy turns to you, a sly look on his face, “Guess we better start working our way through these, huh, hot stuff.”
For added measure, he wiggles his eyebrows, shaking the box in front of you as you roll your eyes. 
“You’re disgusting.” 
A loud gasp from Lara has all of you turning to look at the girl. She’s staring into a duffle bag, her hands shaking as she pulls a container out. As usual, she’s wordless, but she does do you all the courtesy of turning the can towards you, Similac Baby Formula. 
“I could kiss the fucker who hoarded all this to himself.” Tommy declares, a smile on his face, as Lara shows the baby the many cans of food. 
“You’re a really strange guy..” You poke his side 
“Yeah, I am.” He proudly accepts your tease, poking you right back. 
Joel claps his brother on the back, a loud smack resounding through the room, “Quit flirtin' with your girl, there’s a car parked out back, let’s go see if we can get it running.” 
Joel and Tommy disappear into the backyard, where a shed and hopefully a working car await them. You cross the room to Lara, who is trying to pick through the baby stuff, her boy letting out little grunts of discontent. 
“I can hold the baby while you look.” You offer. 
Lara had begun letting you hold her child recently. You could tell she was still hesitant to really give him her all, instead letting you take care of the nurturing while she simply fed and changed him when he needed it. 
The baby, who still has no name, kicks his feet happily when you pull him from the sling after Lara nods to you. You sit on the floor with him, balancing him on your knee as he looks at his mother with big blue eyes. 
“You’ve got a buffet now.” You say to him, “All you can eat. There’s like at least forty cans of formula up there for you.” 
The baby blinks back at you, a gurgle leaving his lips as drool falls down onto the floor below him. Your eyes scan his appearance, he’d gotten chubbier in the past weeks, Lara having a steady diet of half your food meant more breastmilk. Now, his once loose onesie was looking a bit snug as he sat on your lap, staring at you and his mother. 
“Hey, I’m gonna go upstairs to see if there's something new for him to wear.” You say, perhaps this nameless prepper had also snagged some baby clothes. 
Lara waves you off, motioning for you to leave the kid on the floor. You hesitate for a second, technically you know he shouldn’t be left alone, afterall she isn’t going to watch him. But, he also couldn’t even crawl yet, he’d only accomplished sitting up recently. 
So, you left him on the carpet handing him a still closed bag of fruit to marvel over, its shiny packaging should have him enamored for at least twenty minutes. 
Upstairs is pretty boring, empty of things, it’s a simple two bedroom home, one of which was pretty much empty except for a box filled with old tax documents and a busted lamp. The furnished bedroom has a small full bed pushed up against one wall, a dilapidated nightstand beside it, holding a bottle of lotion and box of tissues. Gross. Guess whoever lived here was a dude. 
Clothing apparently wasn’t a top priority for this man, simple jeans and shirts lined his closet, a couple of sweatshirts and a big winter coat were shoved in the way back. The dresser drawers are pretty much the same deal, socks, underwear and a few pairs of well loved sweatpants. One t-shirt says “Best Dad Ever!” its faded and nearly falling apart A hazy memory of Joel wearing something like this came to mind, a fathers day many years ago, you had taken Sarah to the mall and both of you bought one for your dads, convincing them to wear them out at the same time had been a whole ordeal. 
You return the old shirt to its place in the drawer, something else catching your eye. A polaroid camera sits on a bookshelf, beside it a dusty picture of a woman, her long hair a tangled mess of dark curls. She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling as she lounges on the beach. You pick up the polaroid, the film counter reading that it still had four photos left. 
The loud sound of a thump has you rushing back down the steps, ducking your head through the camera so it dangles off your neck. Back in the living room, you find Lara, standing over a knocked-over box of old magazines, her eyes fixed on something at her feet. The baby remains where you left him, his hands slapping the bag of fruit like it’ll open for him like that.
You walk over to Lara, and at her feet is a fitness magazine, a young man poses, his arms confidently crossed, showing off tanned biceps as he smiles, his teeth an unnatural white. 
10 ways to lose that gut! Mike Leeds shares his secrets!
“You uh okay?” You ask her softly, the man’s sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes suspiciously match the baby’s, who sits a few feet from you.
Lara moves fast, faster than you’ve ever seen her move, even that day she jumped Tommy, she didn’t move this quickly. Grabbing Mike Leed’s magazine, you watch as she rips the cover off, proceeding to shred the entire thing into a thousand pieces at her feet, her chest heaving as she does. 
Fat tears begin falling down her freckled face as you watch with concern. You stare at the destroyed magazine for a moment then look back at her. Lara’s arms wrap around herself, and quiet sobs leave her lips as she stands there, her chest rising and falling abnormally. Before you can even think about it, you pull her into you, her wavy red hair tickling your nose as you hug her, her head resting on your shoulder. 
“Shhhh.” You soothe, “You’re alright. You’re safe…” 
You run a hand up and down her back, holding her tight as she cries. The baby stares up at the two of you, the bag of fruit still in his hands. 
The sound of the backdoor has you looking away from Lara for a moment, she’s still wrapped in your arms when Tommy enters. 
“Hey, Joel got the…What happened? Why’re we huggin’?” 
You wave him away, pointing at the door. Your boyfriend spins on his heel, a sigh escaping his lips as he goes. Lara pulls away from you after she hears the back door swing shut again, wiping at her red eyes as she bends down to pick the baby back up. She moves to grab the bag of formula cans, her hand brushing yours as she moves. 
“Hey, you ever wanna talk about it, let me know, okay?” You prompt wishing she’d make eye contact. All you get is a soft grunt from her as she walks off, the baby humming as he stares at you from over her shoulder. 
It takes the rest of the day to get everything from the puke green home to your little blue one that’s only four miles away. Joel and Tommy do a lot of the heavy lifting, loading shit up in wheelbarrows and tossing it into the Toyota 4Runner they had resurrected. Some of the most exciting things consisted of more batteries, about a million packs of toilet paper, the formula, and of course the seemingly endless canned goods and bags of rice. Oh, and the seven boxes of condoms, that was cool too.  By the end of the day the kitchen and attic of your home looked just like the preppers did, although you were actually going to get some use out of it all. 
“What do you think happened to the guy who owned all this shit?” You ask as the four of you slurp up cans of beef ravioli from your new favorite man, Chef Boyardee. 
“Ah well…” Tommy scratches his head, staring at Joel who shrugs in return from his spot across the room in the wooden rocking chair. 
“What?” You ask cluelessly, knocking your knee against Tommy’s as the two of you sit on the sofa together 
Lara spins around, she’s sitting at the kitchen table, her notebook in hand, baby at her feet, a bottle in his hands, the nipple stuffed in his mouth. Her spindly hand writing stands out against the paper. 
Tell us
“He was layin’ out in the shed, all decomposed and shit,” Tommy says
“What, like he killed himself?” You ask 
“Nah, we think he slipped and fell. There’s this big stack of cinder blocks out there, he was layin’ next to one that was all bloody. Probably tripped on his untied shoelaces.” Joel chimes in before Tommy can speak again. 
“Oh.” You say, thinking of the best dad ever shirt and the dusty photo of the woman on his bookshelf. You’re a bit sad for this stranger, tripping and bashing his head open, no one in his home to rush to his side to save him. 
After dinner, Tommy helps Joel unload the last car full of stuff from the man’s home. Arguably, this might be the most important of them all, the weapons. There’s a decent pile of about 10 new guns in your house now, plus seven big boxes of ammunition to go with them. Joel says it should last well over two years of hunting, as long as no big groups of people or infected find you out here. 
That night, you lay in bed, safely tucked away from the world and stomach full, your eyes should flutter shut. Instead, you squirm around on the mattress, Tommy’s figure beside you, his light snores filling the room as you try to sleep. 
You turn on your side, pulling open the drawer of your nightstand. A few months ago, when you’d gotten settled here, you tossed a few miscellaneous items into the drawer, not really bothering with them until now. Over a year ago, you’d found a still packaged vibrator in the drawer of a home you, Tommy, and Joel had stopped in. Of course, you didn’t have any batteries for the damn thing so it sat forgotten at the bottom of your backpack. Now, thanks to the nameless prepper, there was an overabundance of triple-A’s, enough that you’d been able to sneak two of them into your pocket without Joel taking note earlier. 
A soft hum filled your ears as you clicked the toy on, softly sighing as it met the delicate flesh between your legs. You press the button again and a noise leaves your lips, your hips canting up towards the soft silicone as you rub your clit. You’d always had a hard time getting off yourself, your fingers never hitting the right spots to get it done. 
Since you’d gotten together with Tommy, self pleasure hadn’t been necessarily needed. You’d probably been overactive while living at the cabin but recently not so much. The past few weeks had been spent busy trying to survive, rationing and trying to catch licks of sleep when the baby wasn’t crying. This left you with very few moments for lust would take over, resulting in the lack of lying next to him, breathless and sweaty, between damp sheets. 
To put it bluntly, you were needy. You missed the regular feeling of Tommy in you, pleasing you til’ the sun came up some days. You bring your spare hand up your shirt, gently tweaking your nipples as another quiet whimper escapes your lips when you bump the toy’s settings to go higher. Fuck, you were close, you were so damn sensitive just a little bit more…
“What the fuckr’ you doin?” 
“Nothing!” You gasp, regretfully ripping the toy away from your body, clicking it twice to turn it off 
Tommy shifts a click being heard before light floods the room from the lantern he kept on his own nightstand. A squeal leaves your lips when he pulls the covers partly off you, staring between your legs at the discarded toy, a harsh, bright pink that stands out from the light green sheets that were on your bed. 
Tommy reaches between you, careful not to touch your aching center as he picks up your contraband, rolling the small bullet vibe between his fingers as he stares at it in the light. 
“This is why you took those batteries? To power up a sex toy?” 
You squirm guiltily on the soft mattress, perhaps you hadn’t been as discreet as you thought you were, “No…” 
Tommy’s brows shoot up at your blatant lie, an amused smile working its way across his face. “Yeah, alright.” 
“Quit embarrassing me, go back to bed so I can finish.” You say, plucking the toy from his big hands. 
A quiet chuckle escapes Tommy’s lips as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, “Nah, think I’ll stay awake. Besides, clearly I’ve been neglecting my girl if you’re stealing precious batteries.”
“But aren’t you tired? You helped unload all those boxes of supplies today.” You softly say 
Tommy slots himself between your thighs, pushing your shirt up so your navel is exposed, he presses kisses to the skin, slowly leading down to where you want him the most, “Never too tired for you, darlin’.” 
He leans back down, a trail of kisses pressed to your skin as he finishes his path with a kiss to the bundle of nerves between your legs, already raw and sensitive from earlier. 
“Quit teasing me.” You mumble, hands fisted in the sheets 
“Yeah, yeah, needy girl.” Tommy waves you off, his hand reaching for the toy that lays in the sheets, “It seems like I have some competition, wanna tell me who’s better?” 
You scoff and roll your eyes, men and their egos, “Well, the toy doesn’t talk back, so…” 
“Oh, so it’s like that?” Tommy asks 
“It’s like that.” You confirm arrogantly 
“We’ll see about that then…” 
Twenty minutes later, you’re strung out, your bottom lip is probably bleeding from how roughly you’re biting down on it. Tommy has a big hand splayed across your middle, you wrap your own hand around it, squeezing tightly. He’s been alternating between his tongue and the bullet vibe, always switching off when you were close, laughing into your cunt whenever you’d quietly whine in protest. 
“Let me cum…” You tiredly mumble 
Tommy pulls away from you, a nip of his teeth have you yelping when they brush your soft folds. 
“Think you deserve it?” 
“Yes.” You huff 
“Dunno…you seemed pretty eager to get off on a piece of rubber. Why don’t you try asking nicely?” He asks, a thumb gently running across your thigh. 
This fucking guy. You were so going to kill him when this was over. You tug on Tommy’s arm, feigning a pout as you pull him up towards your face, his dark eyes roaming yours as he moves for you. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned 
Before he can ask you again, you catch him off guard, flipping the two of you around so his back is on the mattress. A grunt leaves his lips as you clamor on top of him, determined to get your release. Pushing his underwear down, you sigh loudly when the warm skin of his cock touches your soaked hole. 
“Fuck, wait, wait!” Tommy groans 
You freeze, worried you’d overstepped and that he wanted to stop, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’ll get off you.” 
One of his hands flies to your hips, keeping you above him, “Just needed to grab one of these.” 
You glance down to where a small silver square sits in his hand, a condom from the box Joel had shoved into his arms earlier today. Tommy rolls it on with practiced motions as you watch. 
“Condom number one is officially in use.” He declares proudly
“You’re fucking weird.” You comment 
“You lov-ahh fuck…”
Tommy’s mouth snaps shut as you sink down on him for the first time in two and a half weeks. His name falls from your lips as you desperately try to keep quiet, your hips immediately beginning to rise and fall while he grunts below you. You’re utterly wrecked as you roughly roll your hips down into his, reveling in the friction from his pubes on your clit. Tommy’s whispered, frantic voice fills your ears as slick noises leave where the two of you are connected.
“S-Slow down, M’ not gonna-Fuck!” 
You lean down, slamming your lips into Tommy’s as he brushes a sensitive spot inside you, your cunt clenching as it does. 
“Mmm you feel so fucking good.” You mumble into his lips, drunk on him 
Straightening back up, you continue your movements, tasting blood as you bite down on your bottom lip when Tommy’s hands run up your body and under your shirt to your soft chest. 
Tommy’s back raises slightly from the bed, his hands falling to your hips, slowing your motions down exponentially, a quiet whine leaving your lips. 
“Not, fuck, gonna last like this, you’re killin’ me here.” 
Your hands land on his still clothed torso, nails biting through the fabric as he winces. You gently push him back down, no real malice behind it, if he wanted to he could toss you off him at any second. 
A chuckle leaves his lips as you stare down at him, silently pleading for him to just stay put. 
“Alright, you win.” He concedes 
Rough hands resume their place on your waist, squeezing as you stifle your moans, wishing that the two of you were alone in this damn house. 
“Good fucking girl,” He groans, knowing how you love it when he says that. Tommy’s hand falls off you, searching the bed sheets for something. 
Your lust riddled brain barely registers as he finds the vibrator, you only react when he places it on your needy clit. Your mouth opens to scream just as Tommy places his hand across your mouth, sitting up as he muffles the cry. 
“Fuck, Fuck..Cum for me.” He mutters into your neck, sucking at the soft skin there 
A muffled moan escapes his hand as you stare at him, too fucked out to really speak. 
“C’mon darlin’, use me, let me feel it.” 
Three more rolls of your hips and then you’re gone, shaking above him as the toy’s soft hum fills the room. Tommy grunts below you, spilling into the condom as he brings his lips to yours, his hips jerking with erratic movements. 
Tommy rests his head in the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. 
“You almost killed me, girl.” He smiles dopily up at you as you press a kiss to his damp forehead, “Damn near lost my mind with you on top like that.” 
“Mmm, good.” You giggle, his nose brushing your chin 
Tommy wraps his arms around you, holding you close as the two of you come down, sweaty skin sticking to your t-shirts. You’ll have to boil water for a bath tomorrow, perhaps he’ll even join you if you beg hard enough. 
“Remind me to never neglect you in the bedroom again.” Tommy says 
A laugh escapes your lips, kissing him as you lean into his touch. 
“Seriously, I think you just stole a piece of my soul back there. It’s probably trapped in the condom or something.” 
You laugh, climbing out of his lap, falling into the messy sheets, pulling the covers up your body, “You’re so fucking weird, Tommy.” 
Next Part
I really need to eat more vegetables and fruits. I'm gonna end up with scurvy or something crazy one of these days.
Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter; I carry the tags over to each part.
Tags:
@freythecrazyfae @rae-gar-targaryen @keseqna @eniepascal @jakecockley @aphroditesblunt @soberbabes @daisyhams
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beneathashadytree · 1 year ago
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BRAT - RAFAYEL QI X READER
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Warnings : NSFW obviously, marking/bruises, somewhat rough sex, bratty sub!Rafayel, mean dom!reader, hair pulling, handjob, overstimulation, light choking, implied corruption kink, implied dacryphilia, one moment of nipple play, implied voice kink, mentions of masturbation, cum-eating, can be read as pegging or just regular sex because reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : nasty smut
Word count : 1.0K words of filth
Additional notes : I’d been waiting for LaDS to release globally for years, so forgive me for going feral over the men. Rafayel is part of the sassy man apocalypse but I would die for him. Also, I want him desperately.
Tip jar!
Masterlist
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“I never said I liked this,” Rafayel managed to gasp out, though his half-hearted words were completely betrayed by his own body. His slightly-bruised hips pushed back onto them, practically begging them to push even deeper into him, and his hands fisted the sheets below him even harder, knuckles almost growing white as he tried to get a semblance of control.
Control that his darling would certainly not relinquish to him.
With a dark chuckle, they pressed their palm onto his sweat-slick back, keeping him still against the mattress. “Could’ve sworn I just felt you clenching around me, sweetheart.” Angling their hips a little, they drove their cock deeper into him, just to hit that spot that had him crying out their name and seeing stars.
A whimper escaped Rafayel’s lips, and with furiously flushing cheeks he buried his head into the pillow. They clicked their tongue in mock disappointment, a hand reaching out to sharply tug at his hair and pull him off the drool-stained pillow to turn his head to the side, pounding into him from behind as he moaned in desperation and pure shame. “Poor baby. You think you can hide your little sounds from me? That’s cute.”
“You’re awful,” he huffed out, still trying to put up a front when his thighs were shaking and barely able to hold him up, and his gaze that struggled to meet theirs was just as fucked out as his body seemed. “Really fucking awful.”
Arching their eyebrow, they wondered how long he’d deny how much he was enjoying this. His hole practically swallowed them back inside every time they began to pull out, their cock glistening as they slipped into him with an almost-pornographic slick sound. “Kind of hard to believe you actually think so when you’ve made a mess out of my bed.”
Their hand fell from his mussed hair to curl around his leaking cock against the mattress, beginning to fist him at a cruel pace. His pre-cum dribbled from his tip, and his hips jerked from the overstimulation. Taking him so roughly from behind and jerking him off simultaneously had him right where they wanted him; needy and wantonly writhing in their sheets.
Rafayel choked out a sob, his back arching as he tried to escape the burning ache of pleasure bordering on pain. How long had it been? Thirty, forty minutes so far? It was a miracle he’d stayed sane throughout it so far. No matter. It was always fun to see him brought to ruin. “F-fuck, ‘m not gonna last like this.” His voice trembled with every thrust of their cock inside him, dragging deliciously against his fluttering walls, telling of how close he was.
“Good. I want to see you fucked into oblivion. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson or two to keep your mouth shut.” Their laughter in his ear was a dark promise, leaning in and pressing their weight ontop of him just like how they knew he liked it. His weeping tip made it so easy to fuck his cock even faster, their fingers feeling every vein and every ridge they’d memorized.
“Mm, ‘s too much—!”
Every inch of him was burned into their memory; framed into their mind as the picture of his wanton ruination seared itself into their brain. Rafayel was a beautiful man, there was no doubt about it—but for some wicked reason, they always found him most ethereal when he was marked all over his back and chest, tresses of hair messy, and eyes watery. When he was painted in the shades of his own arousal, he rivaled his biggest painting masterpieces.
The arm that had been holding them up snaked up his torso, two fingers teasingly pinching his nipple, earning a dragged out moan from his gaping mouth. Their light touches against his ever-so-sensitive torso had him pulling his lower lip between his teeth, trying to hold back his whines of annoyance at not giving him the instant release that he wants—an attempt they turned futile as they began to fuck faster into him, their unrelenting fisting of his angry red cock pulling a sudden cry from the back of his throat.
A knowing grin on their face, their hand finally found its resting place: curling around his throat in just the right places, with a slight dig of pressure. Both their hips flush against each other as they nestled into him as deep as they could, their other hand now making rough circles to the tip of his cock. His gasping breaths and shaking form almost stilled to a halt as they leaned their head right next to his ear. “Cum,” they whispered.
And the way Rafayel moaned and instantly spilled into their hand, like their word was a command he’d repeat in his head for days and have the filthiest dreams about, had to be the single most erotic thing they’d ever born witness to. Babbling rushed “thank you”s, “oh God”s, even one or two “feels so, so fucking good” and—their personal favorite—“love you, s’ so much”, he was the picture of obedience and submissiveness.
If they could file this moment away in their mind to revisit every time they’d pleasure themself in bed at night, thoughts of him muddling their brain and driving them insane with every time their fingers tried to take his place but never quite managed to, they would.
But all they could currently do was slow their thrusts to a halt, milking every last drop of cum from his cock as it jumped against his abdomen. ‘Adorable,’ they thought to themself, an amused expression on their face. Even after he shuddered and slumped against the mattress, they remained buried inside his warmth, addicted to the feeling of him around them, like they were made to fit inside him.
The heady scent of sex and sweat, along with him trying to even out his labored breathing as the dim lights of the room danced across his pretty, exhausted features—and oh, was he a sight to behold—were enough to have their core burning with the inferno of uncontrollable want. As they brought their hand up to their mouth and licked at his release, they hummed appreciatively at the taste of his raw pleasure.
“Maybe I’ll make it a habit of fucking the brattiness out of you.”
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thebearer · 2 years ago
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caramen apples |dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader|
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the first entry in thebearer's ber months :)
“Teddy- hey, two feet down. Stop rocking on the chair, Dorothea, I am not telling you again” 
“Daddy! I’m just kidding.” 
“Yeah? Stop before you hurt yourself or your sister, please.” 
“I won’t hurt, Daddy, I do it all the time.” 
“Daddy, can we tastes it?” 
“No, Wills, not yet. It’s still hot, baby. And no you don’t, Teddy. Stand still or I’m putting you on the ground.” 
“When will it be ready-” 
“-Yes, I do! Mommy lets me all the time, Daddy!” 
You bite back a laugh, tucked behind the wall of the kitchen. A four year old, a seven year old, and caramel apples? It sounded exactly what you expected- chaotic. 
“Mommy does not.” You chimed in before Carmen, a brow raise that was entirely motherly. It had Carmen smirking, stirring the pan on the stove, while Teddy turned with a gasp. 
“You sneaked!” Teddy pointed at you, a devious little smile that told you she’d been caught. You knew it entirely too well. 
“Mommy! Look! We make apples!” Willow pointed excitedly at the prepped apples on skewers in front of her. 
“Are you?” You grin back, voice rising in exaggerated excitement. You wrapped your arm around her and Teddy’s backs, steadying them on the chairs Carmen had pulled up for them to help “cook”. 
“It looks so yummy.” You hum, eyes catching Carmen’s. “Can I have one?”
“I guess.” Teddy sighed dramatically. She’d been hanging out with Richie too much. 
Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m gonna help you dip the apples, ok? Don’t touch the caramel. It’s gonna be really hot, alright? Got me?” 
“Got it.” Teddy and Willow hummed in unison, Teddy peeking over the counter towards the hot pan. 
“I wanna go first.” Teddy said firmly, looking at Carmen. 
“Wills, you good with that?” Carmen asked, looking at his youngest. 
“Teddy can go firwst.” Willow lisped, still struggling with her r’s. Your heart melted, pulling her closer to yourself lightly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair. 
Carmen smiled, picking up the first apple, helping Teddy hold it while he adjusted the pan. “Ok, now turn it slowly- yeah, just like that, Teddy. Good job.” Carmen beamed, cringing a little at the lopsidedness of the dip. 
“Look!” Teddy grinned, pulling it back, a glob of caramel falling on the counter with her. “I did it!” 
“You did!” You beamed, a wide smile that had her laughing proudly. “Put it on the sheet, ok?” 
“Look, Willow, I dipped it.” Teddy ignored you, turning to her sister. She lifted the apple high, and for a second, you thought she might put it in her sister’s hair. Instead, Teddy, set it proudly on the counter- not on the paper, making Carmen hiss with a cringe when she did it. 
Your eyes cut to his, lifting a brow. “You’re cleaning this up?” 
“Of course, honey.” Carmen muttered. “You might need to clean them, though.” He nodded towards Teddy, grabbing the glob of caramel that fell and eating it off her fingers, before smacking them together and laughing with Willow at how the caramel strung like webs between them. 
“Teddy, hey, are you supposed to do that?” You glared at her sternly. 
“Yes.” Teddy grinned, deviously. That little shit, you thought, lips twisting together to hide your smile. She was so funny sometimes, it was hard not to laugh at her. “Jus’ eating it.” She shrugged, giggling with her sister. 
“Hey, don’t touch your hair, alright?” Carmen nudged Teddy’s hands down lightly. “Go put your toppings on. Willow c’mere, it’s your turn.” 
“What do you want on yours, Teddy Bear?” You asked, sliding Teddy over and pulling out the jars of toppings Carmen had prepared- M&Ms, nuts, granola. 
“I want M&Ms.” Teddy chirped, reaching her hand into the little cup, squealing with laughter when they stuck to her already sticky fingers. “Willow, look!” 
Willow turned, nearly dropping the apple into the hot pot of caramel, Carmen’s eyes widening when he caught it. “Hey, be careful.” Carmen said, his voice hard but calmer. 
“Sowwy.” Willow’s eyes rounded softly, melting him entirely when they met his own. 
“I think that’s enough M&Ms.” You laughed, stopping Teddy as she dunked the apple and her hands into the candy. “Save some for Willow, and me.” 
“I want nuts.” Willow hummed, delicately scooping and sprinkling them on to her apple, so careful and precise- just like Carmen. You told him she was watching him, sometimes he didn’t believe you, until he’d see it for himself. 
You grabbed a cloth, wiping Teddy’s hands as best as you could, wiping her face down gently. Carmen dipped both of yours, placing it in front of you. “You want nuts too?” Carmen asked. 
You blushed. Of course he remembered. From years ago, before the babies, before the marriage, when Carmen still lived in his shitty little apartment with jackets inside the stove and barely any room to move. Carmen had taken you to an orchard, picked apples and pumpkins because it made you happy and that made him happy. He’d made candy apples, caramel apples, even cider donuts in that tiny apartment. You sat on the counter, dipping yours in chopped peanuts, sharing sticky kisses between bites.
“Yeah.” You hummed, hand snaking around his waist, giving his hip a loving squeeze. “M&Ms too.”
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jesterjaxx · 4 months ago
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The aforementioned djuncan kids drabble i wrote after me and egg were talking about Duncan secretly wanting kids like really bad
its very self indulgent and kinda cringe😭
♡♡♡
"Dude, you're gonna be the death of me," Duncan groaned, collapsing onto the couch with a bag of chips he jaggedly ripped open.
"What did I do this time?" DJ asked innocently, not even bothering to look up from the TV.
Duncan rolled his eyes as he settled into the cushions, stretching his legs out onto the crowded coffee table. "It's not what you did. It's what you didn't do."
DJ's eyes flicked over, curiosity piqued. "And what's that supposed to mean?" He nudged Duncans thigh with his knee chidingly and Duncan removed his legs to kick his shoes off before putting them back on the table.
Duncan took a deep breath, crunching a chip between his teeth. "You know, you're always so...so...good to me, DJ," he grumbled, avoiding eye contact. "It's like you're made of sunshine or something. You're all nice and considerate and shit. You dont even yell when your mad 'cause you think its mean or whatever." He complained as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.
DJ chuckled, setting down the remote. "Thanks, I think?" He leaned over, peering into the bag. "You gonna share?"
"Yeah, sure," Duncan mutters, pushing the chips closer. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he took another deep breath before continuing. "But it's just...I don't know, man. Sometimes I see you with the animals we're always rescuing, or the way you talk about the kids that come into your clinic, and it just...it hits me."
DJ glanced over, his hand hovering over the bag. "What hits you?"
Duncan took a moment, staring at the TV without really seeing it. "You're just so...so nurturing, you know? And it makes me feel all...weird inside."
DJ leaned in, his curiosity growing. "Weird how?"
Duncan shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just...you know, like, baby fever or something."
DJ's eyebrows shot up. "Baby fever?" He echoed, his voice filled with amusement as he popped another chip in his mouth, looking back at the TV.
Duncan drummed his fingers agaisnt his leg, his cheeks reddening further. "Yeah, I know it's stupid." He took another chip, trying to ignore the sudden weight in the air pressing into him. "It's just, every little thing you do, it makes me think...what if?"
DJ paused, chewing slowly, Duncan sounded a bit... almost shy actually. He didnt look like he was doing a bit like DJ had assumed either. DJs eyebrows quirked in curiosity.
DJ sat up, his eyes searching Duncan's face. He hadn't seen this side of him before, and it was a bit jarring. "What if what?"
Duncan sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "...What if we had a kid together?" He mumbled it so quietly that it was almost lost in the sound of the TV.
DJ's hand stilled mid-air, a chip suspended between the bag and his mouth. "What?" He blinked, certain he'd misheard.
Duncan grumbled, his eyes still glued to the TV. "You heard me."
DJ sat back, processing this new piece of information. "Duncan," he began, his voice measured, "are you saying you want to have a kid with me?"
Duncan groaned and threw a chip at him, not looking away from the TV. "I'm just saying it's a thought that's been kicking around in my head, okay?" he said defensively, face hot. "I didn't say I was going to start knitting baby booties or anything."
The chip bounced off DJ's nose, and he stared at Duncan in disbelief before bursting into laughter. "You're ridiculous," he said, shaking his head. "But also kind of adorable when you get all flustered."
"Shut up," Duncan groused, throwing another chip. This one hit its target, landing in DJ's open mouth. He chewed, still chuckling.
DJ swallowed, tilting his head. "You're serious, aren't you?"
Duncan sighed, finally meeting his gaze. "I don't know. Maybe. It's just a...a feeling, you know?"
DJ nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah... I get it," he said gently. "It's a big deal, though. Kids are a huge responsibility."
Duncan grunted in agreement. "I know that, DJ. Believe me, I know. It's just..." He huffed, "I honestly really like the idea of 'em, and you make me feel like I could do it. Like, we could do it together." He admitted.
DJ's smile grew, his eyes warm. "You think so?"
Duncan nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I do." He took another deep breath, bracing himself for DJ's reaction as he waved a hand casually. "But it's cool if you don't want to, I was just saying—"
"Duncan, hey" DJ interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. "I think it's sweet." His smile was soft, his voice soothing. "Really, I do."
Duncan's eyes searched DJ's face, looking for any sign of mockery or dismissal. Finding none, he relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," DJ confirmed, his hand giving Duncan's arm a gentle squeeze. "I mean, it's not something we should jump into without really thinking it through, and we'd definitely have to wait for while, but it's not the worst idea."
Duncan snorted. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."
DJ leaned back into the couch cushions, his hand still on Duncan's arm. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, his tone light. "You've just...got a bit of a reputation for being, well, less than reliable."
Duncan's eyes narrowed, but he didn't pull away, "Less than reliable?"
DJ pursed his lips, "Well-"
"You don't think I'd make a good father?" He guessed from DJ's words, his voice a mix of defensiveness and hurt, memories of a certain ex's parting words flashing through his head.
DJ sighed, recognizing the misunderstanding. "That's not it, Duncan," he said gently, his grip on Duncan's arm tightening slightly, grounding. "I know you'd love any kid we had. I don't think you'd be a totally terrible dad or anything. You're just...you know, not exactly the poster boy for stability. And kids need stability."
Duncan's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. It was true. His history of screw-ups and lack of commitment was a well-documented fact, especially on the show. But he felt like he'd changed, like DJ had brought out the best in him. "I've been better," he murmured. "I've been trying."
DJ nodded. "I know you have, and that matters a lot to me, and I'm proud of you. But I'm just saying, let's not rush into anything, okay?" He squeezed Duncan's arm again, his eyes earnest. "We've got our whole lives ahead of us. We have time to grow and think about it when we're better... equipped."
Duncan nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. He hadn't really expected DJ to jump at the idea, but he couldn't deny the delusional part of him that had hoped. He took another chip and munched on it thoughtfully. "I guess you're right," he said, his voice a bit more subdued.
The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the low hum of the TV. Then, DJ spoke up again. "But, if we ever do decide to take that step, I'm with you."
Duncan's eyes slid back to DJ, hope flickering across his features. "You actually want that? Not just saying that to shut me up?" He said warningly.
DJ nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "If it's what you want too, then yeah. I think we could be good at it. I love kids."
Without a second thought, Duncan launched himself at DJ with a grin, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. The bag of chips spilled onto the floor, forgotten as Duncan's heart hammered in his chest. He hadn't expected the conversation to go this way, but he wasn't about to argue with it.
DJ's eyes widened in surprise before he started to laugh, his arms instinctively going around Duncan's waist. "What's gotten into you?" he gasped out, his voice threaded with amusement.
"You," Duncan said bluntly, his breath hot against DJ's neck. "I'm fucking obsessed with you." He said it so softly that it was almost lost in the fabric of DJ's shirt.
DJ's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around Duncan, holding him close. "I know," he whispered back, his voice thick with affection.
They stayed like that for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air between them. Then, Duncan pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eye. "So, you'll get me pregnant, then?"
DJ rolled his eyes, but the smile didn't leave his face. "You know it doesn't work that way, Duncan."
Duncan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Humor me, then."
DJ chuckled, pushing Duncan back playfully. "You're insatiable, you know that?"
Duncan flopped back onto the couch, his grin not wavering. "What can I say? You're irresistible."
DJ rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck. He leaned back into the couch, his arm hooking around Duncans legs to pull them onto his lap. "You're such a flirt," he teased, poking at Duncan's calf.
Duncan just grinned, his eyes locked onto DJ's. "I mean it, though," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "You make me want to be better. To be the kind of person who could be a good dad."
DJ studied him for a moment before leaning over and grabbing Duncan's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. "You're so dramatic," he said, his voice filled with affection.
Duncan's shit eating grin didn't falter. "I'm serious, DJ," he insisted. "Get me a baby right now."
DJ's laugh was incredulous as he dropped Duncan's hand. "How?" he exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. "How do you even think that's a realistic— No, man."
"Thats fine then, I'll just fuckin steal one." Duncan nudged DJs chest with the side of his foot teasingly, doing it again harder at the utter lack of reaction.
DJ rolled his eyes as he caught Duncans foot before it could connect with a real kick. "You cannot just steal a baby."
Duncan's eyes brighted in mischief as he gestured with his hand, "No but I can. They just leave those things out and about man, you ever see a stroller?"
"I am not helping you raise a baby you steal off the street." DJ said with as much seriousness as he could grasp without breaking.
Duncan groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back agaisnt the cushions. His brain kept snagging on the way DJs thumb was tracing circles on the skin of his ankle and it was really distracting him from making his case for how easily he could pocket a kid.
He sighed, trying to expell the fluttering feeling in his chest to no avail.  He pulled his legs out of DJ's loose grasp as he got up, stepping over the spilled chips. He'd clean it up later. Probably. One of the dogs might beat him to it.
DJ's eyes widened slightly as Duncan settled onto his lap, his hands on DJ's cheeks, his thumbs tracing the outline of his lips. "Duncan, what—"
But Duncan didn't give him a chance to finish. He leaned in and kissed him, cutting off his protest with a passionate press of his lips. DJ's arms automatically wrapped around Duncan's waist, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. He could feel the heat of Duncan's body through their clothes, the rapid beat of his heart.
Duncan pulled back with a smug grin, "You really like me, huh?"
DJ blinked, confused but not complaining about a lapful of his boyfriend, "Uh, yeah? I love you."
DJ said it so easily it pissed Duncan off. The feelings in his own chest were loud and blinding and sharp, and he could never really trap them into words like DJ could. Some sick and numb feeling barricade always stopped him.
Duncan hummed instead, and loosely draped his arms over DJs shoulders, fingers brushing the wall behind the couch. "I wanna have kids with you." He repeated quietly, face warm but voice firm.
DJs cheeks grew hot at the intense look Duncan was giving him and he laughed shakily, fingers digging into Duncans shirt, "This is going to become a thing with you, isn't it?"
Duncans grin was sharp, "Probably, yeah."
(Fuxk thats it idk how to end this)
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secondbeatsongs · 1 year ago
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Hello, you said in some tags in a poll that Speed Racer (2008) is your favorite film. If you’re okay with it, I’d really like to hear more about why you love it. I love the Wachowskis’ work (they’re among my favorite directors), but I kinda ended up bouncing off Speed Racer (2008). So, hearing that it had a real impact on someone makes me very curious why. I’m not interested in criticizing your opinion or arguing with you, I’d just really like to know why you love it in the hopes I might be able to enjoy that movie more in the future.
oh god this is from seven months ago, I'm so sorry - but I do love almost everything about Speed Racer (2008) and I still think about it nearly every day.
I love that it's so bright and colorful and absurd. I love that it's an anime in live action form. and I love that at its heart, it is a story about love.
it's about the mistakes people make out of love, and the consequences of that. it's about the way children grow to understand why the adults around them make the choices they do, and maybe choose to do the same things. it's about taking risks for the people you love, and the pain of failing to change the world, because everything is capitalism and everything hurts.
(and it's also about being transgender btw. like, that's one of the main things about it - it is very much a movie about being transgender)
what if your father's choices hurt your older brother, and your older brother's choices hurt you, and now it's you and your younger brother staring down a future where you're going to end up hurting him by making the same choice?
and then...what if you can escape that? what if the broken parts put themselves back together, and the hope doesn't run out, and you're not alone with the things that haunt you? what then?
and now you're at the end and mistakes were still made, people were still hurt, but everyone's grown and changed and they're different now. and they've figured out that maybe, just maybe, you can change the world by doing something you love, by creating art and beauty and making people feel things.
maybe you really can defeat capitalism by driving a car really fast. and even if everyone thinks you can't...don't you have to try anyway? shouldn't you fight with the skills you have, the only way you know how?
what if it works?
and I'm not even gonna get into most of the Racer X stuff (because I want people to go watch this movie, and most folks probably won't be spoiled for it), but his whole deal is just...everything. I love him.
(if there's a guy from Speed Racer that I want to put in a jar and shake every so often, or maybe wrap in a blanket so he can have a nice nap, it's Racer X. he's a great character. prime blorbo material)
anyway I've been rotating this movie in my head ever since I saw it for the first time, and I think I've seen it...seven? times now? and I still cry at the final race, and I still get blown away by the intro sequence.
(the beginning of the movie is genuinely one of the best things I've ever seen - it does an amazing job of introducing you to the world and the story of the characters, and gets you emotionally invested in it right from the start. it's fantastic filmmaking)
also like. story stuff aside, from a technical standpoint, the movie is a masterpiece. it's the type of thing that people hated when it first came out, but when you look at it now and see how it was made, how it intentionally looks bizarre and cartoonish, plastic and surreal, you can see the exact vision the Wachowskis were going for, and it's brilliant.
the way they did the visual effects, the way they made the outdoor scenes feel so detailed, the way the driving and the tracks work - they put so much thought into that, and the behind-the-scenes vids show how cool their process was.
also uhhh cars go vroom, crash into each other, flip upside down, explode, maybe have bees and hammers in them sometimes?
(the above is me complimenting the unhinged vibe of the races themselves, which I love very much)
anyway I could make other full posts about the script of the film and how much I love it, or the cool side characters, or the fanfic potential of the amazing world of the film, or how I can prove that it's set in 1991...but I guess if anyone wants those rants, they'll just have to watch the film and then come talk to me. :)
(please. please come talk to me about Speed Racer.)
so, yeah! I kinda lost my mind there and made this post way longer than I intended, but I do feel strongly affected by this movie, and I hope this has helped explain why.
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