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#I would translate them but I’m tired
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So ummm a!au inspired madoka magica au??
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labyrynth · 1 month
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/salt
trying to interact w genshin fandom is just constantly playing russian roulette and losing
like is this random user normal about kaeya and diluc or are they convinced that kaeya’s name is ragnvindr? are they normal about kaeya and diluc or do they ignore everything diluc has to say?
are they normal about kaeya and diluc or do they ignore the original text in favor of a mistranslated snippet that has a meaning opposite what they think?
are they normal about kaeya and diluc or do they call everyone that prefers canon over their headcanon a freak?
go on, give it a spin. i promise some of the chambers are empty.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Green Lantern hovered in the doorway of the med bay. He’d been summoned, but he had no idea what for.
“You know, spooky, some of us have lives to get back to. Not everyone can exist off of just work and blood or whatever,” Hal poked fun at Batman, who rubbed at his jaw tiredly. Hal blinked, stamping down the guilt that arose at Batsy’s uncharacteristic show of any emotion other than stone cold rationality or exasperation or anger. At least they’ve moved past grunts. That just lends credence to Hal’s theory of Batman being an immortal, like Vandal Savage. Batman could totally pass for a caveman, he’s got the grunts down, for sure.
“Still not a vampire. We found the Ghost King. The one the GIW was trying to hide in their records.”
“Well, shit.” Hal’s expression flattened, remembering the unsanctioned government branch that violated the Meta Rights act to a degree where even Amanda Waller had washed her hands of them. Bats had found evidence that they were experimenting on a child when a “source” had hacked into the base and begged them to find the child. Phantom, the hacker had claimed, who had managed to destroy the portal to the Infinite Realms
Batman had tried to boot the guy out of the system, until the hacker told them Phantom was the King of the Infinite Realms.
That got Constantine terrified, which urged Batman into a full hunting mode to track down the king. Mostly in part because Constantine said something along the lines of, “If the King dies, the Infinite Realms will wage war and decimate us. And considering they’re the realm of the dead, we’d lose so badly, even the demons won’t help us out for our bloody souls.”
Granted, he didn’t have that terrible British accent Hal attached to his voice every time the Green Lantern thought about the sad trench coat wizard, but the point still stood.
“He’s not fully conscious due to… his injuries, but the moments where he was, he reacted best to the color green.”
Hal did not want to know what kind of creepy stalker things Batman did to get that knowledge.
“Oh, great. You called me because I’m green,” he said to Batman as he floated into the med bay. “I can be green. I’m amazing at being green.”
Even with the sarcastic tone, Hal made sure to up his lantern aura, glowing a bright neon green. It wouldn’t do to help start a war if he wasn’t green enough.
Hal looked at the Ghost King, and yeah, he could see why Bats was so off his stoic face game today. Because the Ghost King looked like a teenager, and Bats is a bleeding heart and everyone knows it.
Hal waved away Batman, “Go back to Gotham and drink your true blood or whatever. You look like you’ve seen the sun too much.”
Translation: go home, you look tired.
Batman nodded, in thanks, and left to sleep (probably. Hal has never caught the man doing something so… plebeian). Hal is left playing babysitter. To an inter dimensional being that could- probably more like “would,” considering the live dissection he went through at the hands of humans- destroy their entire planet and/or universe. Another Tuesday for the Justice League.
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feistyfreaks · 5 months
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Do you take request,
especially about Miguel ohara, if yes can you do an ghostface!miguel I been reading people ghostface!miguel and I’m currently obsessed with that au of Miguel
ghostface!miguel x nerdy/shy reader (female)
at alll I hope you have an great day
THE ALLIANCE ⋆༺☠︎︎༻⋆.
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pairings ❀⋮ nerdy!female reader x ghostface!miguel
cw ₊❏❜⋮ dubcon, cnc, sexual manipulation, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mask kink, creampies. (spanish translation added.)
note⋮ hi anon, and yes i absolutely take submissions for miguel! i’ve been wanting to do something w ghostface miguel for a while now so i was excited to make this, have a great week too love, i hope you enjoy this! 🕷️
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the night was cold and heavy. gray clouds obscuring the sky, raindrops bouncing off the concrete floors, trees dancing from the winds fanning in october’s drowsy weather. and yet there you sat, studying like the little goody two shoes you were instead of going out to enjoy your night n tricker treat like your other classmates were. but no, you chose to stay home for halloween.
the prig who always sat in the front of the class, paying attention and answering all the teachers questions was you. no one would be surprised if you stayed home up on your desk finishing up the stupid seven and a half sentenced essay, that you were so determined to get an A+ on.
the clock hit midnight and you were still up on your desk, fixing those grammatical errors and revising your work before you submitted your work that night. the pencils lead broke in half and you groaned, giving in to giving yourself a break; so you stood up, feeling tired and drained.
you walked into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly opened as you took off your glasses and began untying your low pigtails styled with red ribbons. just then you heard a scratching sound at your door, taking a glance you thought it was your cat so you decided to ignore it.
you unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them off your legs and throwing them into the hamper, doing the same with your shirt. the scratching on the door returned, “milo.” you warned to your cat from behind your bedroom door. you finished undressing, stepping into the shower.
yet the annoying sound of nails being dragged down your door made you more and more agitated, “milo, stop it.”
the eary scraps against your door finally came to an end as you sighed in relief, turning on the shower head. it felt refreshing to feel the warm water pour onto your skin as the glass fogged up from the waters heat. you stood there; just enjoying the moment.
you grabbed the shampoo bottle, opening the cap and spurting out a decent amount before lathering it in your hands and onto your hair; massaging the purifier into your scalp whilst washing it out.
you heard the bedroom door creek open from a distance, and you stopped what you were doing, listening in attentively. you turned around to find no one. absolutely nothing. you breathed in, it was probably just your paranoia; after all it was halloween, so you brushed it off.
you went back to showering, repeating the process at least two more times, you rinsed with conditioner before reaching for the body scrub you bought the other day from bath and body works; working the exfoliant into your skin before reaching to grab your handy dandy loofa to do the rest of the job for you.
you watched the soap run down your legs peacefully, and a loud crash interrupted you, your body jolting from the loud sound. you turned around quickly, to find a small blurry shadow jumping in the doorframes view.
“milo, ¡deja de hacer un desastre!” you yelled as you held your heart. (stop making a mess.)
you wiped the fog away from the shower walls glass with your hand, eyeing the bedroom from afar and before you could scold your cat again you saw a taller shadow come into view and walk past by the door. a chill ran down your spine, eyes widening in fear. that’s when the puzzle pieces connected; and you realized this whole time the scratching on your door wasn’t your cat.
and with a squeak you pulled the lever, the hot shower coming to an end. you reach for your towel, wrapping it around your fresh body as you stepped out. you slowly squeaked the bathrooms door opened, eyeing your bedroom.
you pushed past the door and into your bedroom that connected with your bathroom.
you noticed the door was wide open; inspecting the room you also spotted your lamp on the floor. you kneel down, picking up the lamp and grasping onto it tightly. “milo?” you whisper, your cat meowing in response. you sigh in relief, your cat was huddled up in your bed sheets.
you checked around the house slowly, then heading downstairs to slowly look in all the directions; aware of an intruder. you searched for the light switch, whining as you couldn’t find it. “hello?” you called out, but were met with silence.
you touched the walls and navigated yourself with the nightlights scattered around the house, feeling up a cold and dense surface and finally switching on the actual light. you blinked, eyeing the living room as you breathed in. your head was playing games with you, you laughed.
you turned around - a heavy weight attacking you in a blink of an eye, tackling you while they strangled you. you gasped, dropping the lamp as it shattered beneath you as your back collided with the wall.
“trick or treat.” a low voice rumbled as a hand quickly crept over your mouth, the knife resting on the pulse of your throat, muffling back your terrified scream. “fight back and i’ll slit your throat little girl.” his voice dipped menacingly as you struggled to move a muscle.
you panicked; your body disobeying your commands to move or even do something. you found yourself submitting, your heart pounding from the inside of your chest. eyes quivering in pure fear.
with a blurry eyesight, you managed to make out the same figure from earlier. huge, tall, broad and masculine.
your head wasn’t making up things.
but that’s not the only thing you noticed.
you made out a ghostface mask like in the horror movies, and the sharp knife in his hand pointed right at your throat. your breath hitched.
although the mask was freaky, it was oddly attractive.
he slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, testing you. “w-what do you want from me?” you asked, voice hoarse and shaky, trying to make yourself sound calm and confident but you failed miserably.
“want what’s in fronna me.”
“m-me?” you mumbled, holding onto your towel tightly.
“yes, you.”
“why.. me?” you asked, “because you look delicious.” he tittered, smirking underneath his mask as his hand lingered your soft body.
“delicious? a-are you going to eat me?” you asked with rosy cheeks. the male sighed, almost laughing at your response.
“eat here.” he whispered, trailing his finger down to your towel and towards your clothed mound.
oh.
you felt yourself internally heat up, you looked up at him. “is that what you want and you’ll let me go?” you asked quietly.
“i’ll pull some strings for you, perhaps lend you an alliance.” he hummed, slightly applying more pressure onto your neck as the knife indented your skin; a wince slipped out of mouth and you gulped, “promise to not hurt me after..?”
“you have my word, princess.” he uttered huskily, tilting his head to the side to admire you. “okay..f-fine.” you slowly say, already riled up from the tension between the two of you as you practically offer yourself to him.
n with that, he lowered the weapon from your neck as you felt the weight thrown your shoulders, exhaling in relief. he picked you up, throwing your body onto the couch as he bestrides your hips; making sure you have no where to escape.
you steadied your breaths, eyeing his every move. you felt shy, but his dominance eased your insecurity of being completely inexperienced. he lowered himself, as if to kneel before you; further until he settled in between the junction of your legs. he tore of the towel from your lower body, completely revealing you.
the only piece of fabric that was covering you was now gone, and you felt naked. a rush of arousal pumped your bloodstream as his digits slid through your already-slick folds, middle finger rubbing past your clit. he watched you, his arm wrapping around your thigh securely.
he slowly lifted the mask as you caught a glimpse of his perfect face proportions; bronzed skin, and plump lips attaching to the skin on your inner thigh, suckling on it before letting go with an echoey pop, marking his territory. he was slow, yet oddly ferocious when nearing your pussy.
he licked a long stripe amongst your slit, as he inhaled your alluring scent. “que sabrosa.” he murmured, shoving his face into your cunt. your thighs jerked closed feeling his tongue lap messily at your clit, with his arm he held you wide open and your hips instinctively buck into his mouth. (so tasty.)
“mmph!” you moaned, eyes blowing wide open, you grabbed onto the armrest for support. you felt hazy with the way his wet muscle flicked repeatedly at your nub, delving into your folds and into your puckered hole. he spits on your pussy, tongue swirling the bundle of nerves and teeth gently tugging at the abused pearl. you grew sensitive, grabbing his hair and throwing your head back in ecstasy as the room fills with slurping noises.
your inexperienced body decided that enough is enough; you squealed, thighs securing his head in place as your pussy throbs with your release and he continues to lave you through your high.
you push him off your poor pussy, overstimulated but instead he pushes off your hands; finishing licking off the slimy mess dripping down your entrance. you whine, squirming out of his grasp as he finally lets loose. “sabes tan rica princesa.” he chuckles, licking his lips. (you taste so good princess.)
“didn’t think you’d come so early.” he teases. you blink, catching your breath as you watch him get up; large body towering over you as he puts his mask back in place. he pushes your legs towards your chest and with one hand he unzips his slacks, cock springing free. his fingers spread your folds as his glans ran down gooey entrance, sliding in steadily.
he slips past your hymen, and you feel a sharp pain as if you just got impaled. you latch onto his arm tightly, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. he’s kind enough to wait for you to adjust to the abnormal size of his dick; hand wrapping around your throat as he coos at you. he could tell you weren’t used to having anything inside you with the way you clamped around him so tightly.
he doesn’t wait for long, resting your legs over his bulky shoulders and with a roll of his hips he’s already going at it. you moan, eyes glossy with lust and need as he fucks into you with pace. his hand tightens and you feel the excitement coiling up inside you with the way your oxygen was being cut off.
he rolled his hips so fucking smoothly; his meaty cock thrusting into your sobbing pussy. “feels so fucking good.” he moans, pulling out to flip you over on your knees as he plunges into you again. he yanks your head back, “gonna rail this pussy so good you’ll be limping.” he groans, hips snapping into yours as your ass recoils with each of his thrusts.
he raises a hand to lay a harsh slap on your ass, imprint staining your cheek. your nails dig into the sofas leather, your moans harmonizing with the sound of skin slapping against skin; your eyes roll back as he stuffs his fingers into your mouth dripping with drool. your back arches as his tip nudges into your gspot roughly. electricity shot through your core feeling the coil unwind in your tummy.
“please, slow down — oh shit!“ you holler, body convulsing and milking his cock as he follows behind your intense orgasm. he groans, bringing your ass back to cum inside you nice n deep; emptying out his balls inside you. “that’s it, good girl.” he praises, landing another smack to your ass cheek. you writhe out of his reach and he pushes you off of him, slapping his girthy dick on your clit as you shudder.
he groans, watching his seed drip down your hole as you crawl away. “call the police n’ you’ll be good as dead you hear me?” he murmurs, pulling your head.
“g-got it.” you gulp, hearing shuffling noises as you suppose he’s dressing himself. your sleepy eyes watch him stand up and slip the knife back in his waistband as he walks out the front door, slamming it shut.
₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ PART TWO !
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hs-is-loml · 4 months
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You Know This. (cl16)
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader
Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)
Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED
a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)
all translations of french below
Chérie = darling
masterlist
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19 years old
You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.
“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”
“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him. 
“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?” 
“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw. 
“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach. 
You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.   
You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.
You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”
“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.
“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. 
"I'll never let you go."
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20 years old
You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”
“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”
“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day. 
Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?” 
“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance. 
“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation. 
You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.
“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone. 
“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him. 
You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”
As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras. 
“Who is she?”
“Aww, that’s so sweet!”
“They must be dating.” 
“Charles! Over here!”
“Can you sign this for me please!”
You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”
“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.
“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 
“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction. 
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21 years old
“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.
“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.
“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.
“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi. 
You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags. 
You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him. 
“For them,” he told you tenderly.
“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment. 
The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.
Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand. 
“I love you,” he replied back.  
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22 years old
With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two. 
“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.
You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes. 
The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.
“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”
“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.
“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”
Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”
Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.
“Will you make carbonara?”
“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”
“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.
“YES!” he cheered out at your response.
“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.
“Or the muffins!” Alex added on. 
“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.
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24 years old
You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.
“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.
“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense. 
“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”
“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.
"No one!" Carlos quipped.
"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.
"No, it's my sister..."
“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.
“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at. 
“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”
A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.
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You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.
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at the circuit 
“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."
You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”
He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”
“Prove what-” 
You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”
“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.
“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies. 
“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver. 
Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando. 
“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear. 
“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.
“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.
“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.
“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room. 
He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”
"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."
"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"
“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.
“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.
You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.
“This is not funny, Y/n.”
“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair. 
You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”
You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”
“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.
“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.
“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.
You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”
He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further. 
“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.
"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."
"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.
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marvelouslizzie · 11 months
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You're My Desire - Co-written with @notafunkiller
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Summary: Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers' date, but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes' arms.
Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, first date, public sex, ripped clothing, teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.5K
A/N: We really don't have an excuse for this one. We just wanted 40s Bucky to have a good time, you know? This is basically smut with little bit of plot.
Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's also a Bucky Barnes writer and her stories are amazing.
All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it's hate. That's never welcome.
Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.
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Even though you really didn’t want to, you find yourself on a double date with your best friend. She literally begged you to come because she promised she would bring someone for her date’s best friend and apparently she really doesn’t wanna disappoint the handsome soldier.
You're shocked, though, when you arrive at the fair and see Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in the flesh waiting for you two at the gate.
You were pretty sure she brought you here for Bucky Barnes but it turns out your date is actually Steve Rogers, aka Captain America himself.
You don't know what to do at first, awkwardly watching your friend hugging Bucky as if they knew each other for ages. Even though they met just a day ago. Steve extends his hand politely, which you immediately shake.
It doesn’t take long for you to go inside the fun fair together while chatting casually. Your friend, Cassie, starts asking questions about the war. She loves front-line stories, but Bucky doesn’t seem like he enjoys telling them.
Steve, on the other hand, is very excited to do it, answering all of Cassie's questions as you quietly watch them. You wonder why you said yes to this date. You've never been into soldiers and even less into war discussions. But you love your friend very much even when she ignores you.
You find yourself looking at Bucky while Cassie and Steve start to chat and exchange stories. He kinda seems amused by this development. You shrug looking in his direction, waiting for him to say something. After all, you are both already bored and your friends don't even seem to care or notice you anymore in the first place.
Bucky just smiles and then tries to change the subject. You think he actually handles that topic change pretty smoothly and it sticks for a while until Cassie gets bored of talking about books.
You remark Bucky's sad face, but you don't say anything. Instead, you subtly start to walk slower, hoping he'll do the same. As Cassie keeps talking to Steve, Bucky notices you are getting behind and just slows down a little.
"You're okay? Are your legs hurting?" Bucky asks concerned while looking at her shoes.
“No, no, I’m fine. Just got tired of the war stories, that’s all.” You keep walking slowly.
"Me, too." He sighs. "It's a never-ending subject at this point."
“Well, where there's life there's hope.” You quote the Hobbit instinctively. You hold on to the hope, one day you won’t have to talk about this war.
Bucky gasps, looking at you in a way you never experienced before. "What did you say?"
“I just said where there's life there's hope.” You repeat, surprised by the way he probably recognized the quote. People usually have no idea what you are referring to. Not him though.
"You're a fan? Oh god!"
That starts your actual conversation with Bucky Barnes. It turns out he’s a big bookworm himself. He reads as much as he can, always buying more books that he manages to read.
You didn't even realize how close you are until your shoulders slightly brush. You blush when he smiles, clearly not minding. Still, you feel very conscious about your closeness and quickly look toward your friend, feeling guilty that you are enjoying the company of her date, but she doesn’t seem to care one bit. On the contrary, she’s actually holding Steve Rogers’ arm while talking and laughing.
"You're very beautiful." You hear Bucky murmur shily.
His compliment catches you off guard. You were about to apologize on behalf of Cassie. Yet you find yourself blushing.
"And you love reading. I am a lucky man. I get to talk to you."
“I could say the same thing myself, Sergeant. I much rather talk about books instead of the war.”
"Then you got the right company." Bucky smiles and looks around. "Should we get some ice cream?"
“That would be amazing.” And that’s how you end up separated from Cassie and Steve. Bucky informs them about their plan and then leaves without waiting for them.
You spend the next hour talking and walking around the entire fair. James even won a teddy bear for you. Once in a while both of you act like you wanna find Steve and Cassie, but you definitely don’t care.
"I don't remember the last time I felt so comfortable and good with someone."
“I’m glad I’m not boring the shit out of you.” You know it’s not ladylike to speak this way, but you feel comfortable around him. It’s crazy when you consider you just met him maybe two hours ago.
Bucky smiles. "I can say the same. Steve says I'm quite boring."
“He’s quite boring himself.”
"Is he?" He snorts.
“Yeah. Who knew Captain America would be into war stories?”
"Doesn't the name say it?" He continues in the same joking tone.
“The name suggests he’s heroic and boring but he’s more boring and less heroic than expected. Stealing his best friend's date doesn’t scream honorable to me.”
Bucky is shocked to see her indirectly standing up for him. "Maybe I stole his date, though."
“His date was uninterested from the start and just being nice to her best friend.”
"Is she still uninterested?"
“In him? Yes.” You act like you don’t understand what he is actually asking.
"Well, the feelings are mutual. About the date and now…"
“You were uninterested in Cassie?” You say it in a way that shows you don’t believe him.
"Wasn't it obvious?"
“Nope.” It definitely wasn’t when they hugged each other the moment they arrived.
"I was trying to be polite. She insisted on this… meeting because I helped her out. I was relieved I could bring Steve."
“She sounded very interested in you until Captain Rogers started with war stories.”
"She was staring at his… back ever since we arrived."
You burst out laughing and he joins you right after. It sets the tone for the rest of the night and makes you notice you both don’t give a shit.
*
"I want to show you something," you say after a few seconds and quickly drag him after you until you reach a darker alley close to the last attraction. You drop the teddy bear carefully at your feet. "Hi."
“Hi.” He still seems a bit confused, but it’s so cute. He looks at the teddy bear and then his eyes turn back to your face. You can’t help but smile.
"You're so cute. Has anyone told you that?" You smile in return.
He acts like thinking for a second. “No, not really. Just cute?” He fishes for more.
"And smart." You touch his chest shily. "And kind."
“Hmm, those are not what people notice first.” He moves a little bit closer. “You have something…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, his thumb brushes the corner of your lips. You wait for him to wipe off whatever you had on your face before opening your mouth and letting your tongue touch his finger shamelessly.
You watch Bucky’s eyes widen out of surprise. He didn't expect that at all. You grab his hand, bringing his finger inside your mouth, and notice how his breathing quickens. Yet he doesn’t stop you.
You let your tongue play for a few seconds until you let his finger go with a small bite. He lets out the lowest moan but not only do you hear it, but you also love it.
"Wow, I…" He doesn't know what to say, all red and excited.
“You what? Do you feel uncomfortable? Excited? I mean, I can stop if you want.”
In response, brave and happy, Bucky kisses you. His tongue is already on your bottom lip asking for permission, which you grant by opening your mouth without realizing it.
The kiss isn’t shy like you expected, and he definitely knows how to kiss. The way his lips and tongue move makes you want more, right then and there.
Your hands go to his neck as you let yourself enjoy the kiss even more. You keep kissing until you feel breathless. When Bucky breaks it, he doesn’t move away. His forehead touches yours as you try to catch your breath.
"This was…"
“I wanna do something if that’s okay…” You say while suddenly getting on your knees. You are wearing your favorite nylon stockings and you're sure they are gonna get ripped, but you don't care.
Bucky thinks he's daydreaming because how can this happen? How?
"What? What are you doing?"
“I think you know what I am doing, Sergeant. Just tell me to stop if you don’t want it, okay?” Your hands move to his belt but you wait for a reaction first.
"Stop. That's not… you don't have to do this. We are having a great time anyway."
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Is that okay for you?”
He can only nod, totally shocked and excited at the same time.
You unbuckle him slowly. Even though you are in a public place, you're in no hurry. You unzip him while looking into his eyes. When you finally take him out of his pants, he seems speechless. He’s already hard, but as soon as you start to move your hand, he gets rock hard after maybe four pumps.
"Jesus, you're so pretty. You look like a doll on your knees."
You smile proudly. “Tell me what I look like when I do this,” you say before taking him inside your mouth.
He closes his eyes, groaning. Your mouth is so wet and warm. You take it slow at first. Your mouth moves gently while you swirl your tongue around the head.
"Please." You hear him whisper, his left hand resting against the wall behind him.
You move your mouth away from him just to ask “Please what?” Your lipstick is already a little smudged.
"Oh god, keep going. Please, you're such a pretty sight."
“Tell me how I look when you're inside my mouth and I'll continue, promise.” You wink and remind him he still hasn’t fulfilled your request.
"Like a dream. Like a goddess."
“Hmm…” You go back to taking him inside your mouth without making another comment. This time, you move a bit faster than before and start using your hand.
"Your mouth will be the death of me."
That makes you smile but you don’t stop, moving your hand and mouth at the same time, hoping for a good reaction. His hand finds its way to your hair, wrapping it enough to pull a little. That encourages you to go faster, in need for a tighter grip. And you get it: soon, he wraps more of your hair around his whole fist, moaning your name.
“I think I'm gonna…” He sounds so breathy. “You should pull away.”
You look at him, acknowledging his warning, but showing him you are ignoring it. You keep moving fast, making sure your tongue flicks around the right spot every time until he spills inside your mouth. It’s a lot more than you are used to, but you still keep going until he completely empties himself. You take your mouth off, looking into his eyes before swallowing.
"No." He covers his eyes while groaning. "You can't do this to me, doll. Jesus…"
“Do what?” You innocently ask.
He doesn't answer you, taking you by the back of the neck and kissing you sloppily. You don’t get a chance to warn him about the taste and he doesn’t seem to care one bit. He groans into your mouth when he feels your hands on his ass and breaks the kiss just to suck on your neck.
Then you feel his hands between your bodies, trying to pull up his pants again.
You break the kiss to ask: “What are you doing?”
"I'm putting on my pants," he sounds like a kid. "And I wanna get on my knees for you, too."
“Maybe I want something else that doesn’t require you to put your pants on.”
He nods, without understanding what you mean. "Alright. I'll just-" He drops his right hand until it reaches her skirt. "Is it okay?" You nod with a smile. Even though it’s not what you meant, it’s fine.
His fingers immediately go to your underwear and push it aside.
"Fuck me. Look at that." You are really wet and his curses don't help either. "Soaked. Is that for me, doll?"
“No, it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me.” You joke.
You feel his fingers stopping on your slit as he lifts his head. "What did you say?"
“I said it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me. You know that gets the girls wet.” You hope he won’t be offended by this. It’s just a silly joke.
In response, Bucky pushes a finger inside you quickly, his lips curling into a smirk. "Should I start talking about war, too? Bet that would get you even wetter."
You let out a deep breath, relieved. Thank God he isn’t offended. “That would get me dry as a desert, Sergeant Barnes.”
"Should I dye my hair then?" He snorts, moving his finger faster.
“Maybe you should get a shield. It would definitely look better on you.”
"A shield, huh?" Bucky adds another finger, trying to scissor them inside you a couple of times. "Is it too much?"
“Nope,” you say after a moan. “It’s not enough.”
"Fuck, you…" he closes his eyes. "You want another?"
“I want something else.” You smile, hoping him to understand this time.
"Yeah? Like what?"
You grab his cock and gently rub it without saying a word. You are not surprised he’s hard because his erection has been pressed on your leg for a while.
"Fuck. You want my cock, baby?"
“Yeah. Why do you think I didn’t let you pull your pants back up?”
"I don't-" He moans. "I didn't think."
“Come on. You are making me wait while I’m soaking your fingers.”
"Wanna make you…" Bucky interrupts himself by adding a third finger, his other hand going to your clit. "Happy."
“Fuck.” You throw your head back, that felt so good.
"You like this?" He rubs a little more, paying attention to your body. His fingers inside you keep the same pace, though. He isn't slowing down now even if it's the end of the world.
“Yeah, that.” You breathe out. You already feel your legs shaking and you're afraid your knees might give out, but it feels so good, you can’t seem to focus on the concerns.
"Hold on to me."
You put your hands on his shoulders and it helps you relax a bit more. After that, your orgasm comes crashing in like a big wave that leaves you breathless. He doesn't stop moving his fingers until you finish coming, then he slowly pulls them out, making sure to lick them before kissing you.
“You are such a dirty soldier, Sergeant Barnes,” you say with a smile.
"What is dirty about this?" He shrugs. "I'm a good soldier, of course."
“Doing this in a dark alley with me and licking your fingers clean like that. Very good soldier, indeed.”
"Ihm." He buries his head right onto your shoulder and breathes in. "Thank you."
“For what?” You find yourself kissing his hair while asking the question.
"For this evening and this. Thank you for trusting me."
“You are something else, Bucky,” you say while caressing his hair.
"Hmm?"
You kiss his hair and his ear, then move your lips to his neck. “You can thank me later. We are not done yet.”
"Changed your mind?" He smiles. "Want me on my knees after all?
“Maybe later.” You wink. “Now don’t act like you don’t know what I want because I know you want it, too.”
He freezes. "Wait, you're serious?"
“Of course I am serious. Just don’t finish inside, okay?”
He looks at you again all serious. "Are you sure? We don't have to, I can use my tongue."
“Don’t worry, it’s not my first time and yeah, I’m sure unless you don’t want to.”
Bucky looks at you with puppy eyes. "Uhm, it's my first time."
“Oh god.” Your eyes widen. “I… didn’t consider… that possibility. I’m sorry.”
Bucky starts laughing at your worried expression and kisses your cheek. "My first time with a bookworm doll."
You punch his shoulder. “You worried me!”
That makes him laugh even harder, and you can't help but smile. Because he's extra beautiful like this.
"Why? Do you have something against innocent boys, ma'am? Shame!"
“No, nothing against it. Absolutely would love to teach and corrupt but wouldn’t want that to be your first time.”
"You don't want to take advantage of me, huh? Such a good girl." He surprises you by suddenly lifting you and helping you wrap your legs around his torso.
“Would you like me to take advantage of you?” You kiss his jaw and cheeks.
"Fuck, yes. Yes."
“Then you have my permission to take advantage of me, too.”
He doesn't ask you again if you're sure. Instead, he lifts his right hand to your blouse and starts unbuttoning it as fast as he can. He's so impatient he even manages to rip a button. You just watch him work and smile, hoping the gentleman side of Bucky finally stops holding him back.
He groans at the sight of your hard nipples and quickly leans in to take one in his mouth.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper while he uses his tongue to play with your nipple. It feels so good you don't even notice when his hand drops under your skirt. Until you hear the ripping sound.
“What the fuck?” You can’t believe he's just ripped your nylon stockings. They are so hard to find and so expensive!
"Whha?" He doesn't even take his mouth off your nipple as he speaks.
“Do you know how expensive those stockings are?” Your surprise is so clear in your voice. “You owe me a pair of nylon stockings, Sargeant.”
"They were in the way, baby."
“Getting impatient?” You mock a little.
He pushes his hips a little more. "Can't you feel?"
“You still owe me a pair.”
"What about these?" His hands are now on her panties. "How many do I need to buy you so I can rip these off?"
“Just one pair, but if you wanna rip that one, too, this cycle might never end.”
He sighs, contemplating, but he finally decides not to, only pushing your underwear aside. "How do you want it?"
“What do you mean?”
Bucky takes another step until your back barely brushes against the wall. "How do you like this? The sex."
“Don’t try to act all kind and push aside what you actually want to do. That’s how I want it.”
"Do you uhm… like it fast or slow? The pace I mean." He's slowly pushing inside you while he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“That’s exactly what I meant. Do it however you want and we will see how I like it. Don’t be too gentle like this.”
"Talk to me, okay?" He's halfway inside you now, staying still for a few seconds as he leaves small kisses on your neck.
“Oh, I will, don’t worry, handsome. No one can stop me from complaining if I don’t like something.”
"Good girl." He tries different types of thrusts and angles at first, wanting to see what you respond to the most.
“Fuck. Why do you keep saying that?” She moves her hips to make him thrust faster.
"Because you're my good girl. Dirty too." He moans when he feels you. "God, you want it faster, baby?"
“Yes, yes, I do. Please. Move faster.”
And he does, his grip on your ass tightening as he starts thrusting just the way you want. "Fuck, you're soaked. You feel so good around me."
“You feel good, too.” You moan in between words. “And you are strong. Really strong,” you remark because he doesn’t look tired while holding you.
But he doesn't seem to acknowledge that. "I'm so fucking lucky, Jesus." He groans when he feels your lips sucking on his collarbone.
“You didn’t think your double date would end this way, huh?”
"Deep inside you? Not a chance." He smiles, speeding up.
“Maybe deep inside someone else.” You tease on purpose.
Bucky immediately stops thrusting. "What?"
“I was just joking about how we were meant to be on a date with other people.” You hate that you can’t shut your mouth sometimes.
"Oh," he nods, restarting to move. "Well, I can assure you, he wouldn't have done this tonight." He jokes back.
“Fuck me against the wall like this?”
"Fuck you at all. But especially like this. And the language?" He laughs. "Never."
“Oh, so honorable of him.” You keep joking. “Poor Cassie.”
His right-hand flies behind your head to protect it as his thrusts become way too quick. "Fuck. You feel like heaven, I swear."
“God, how do you do that?” You are surprised that he can carry you with one hand. “Are you sure you aren’t a super soldier yourself?”
Bucky shakes his head amused. "That will go straight to my ego."
“You're carrying me with one hand while protecting my head with the other, and you keep fucking me at the same time. I think it should go straight to your ego.”
He groans. "Lower one of your hands now."
“Lower it where exactly?” You don’t understand what he wants.
His hand moves from the back of her head for a few seconds just to bring her fingers to her clitoris. "Right here. Can you rub this for me?"
“Ohh.” You finally understand what he’s trying to do, so you listen and start rubbing yourself while his hand goes back to your head.
"Good, good girl. Look at you." He doesn't even realize how deep his thrusts are because his focus is on your fingers.
“Oh god… It feels so good.” You have never done something like this before. No public sex, no touching yourself during sex, no good girl whispers next to your ear. They all make you feel dizzy.
"Yeah? Just good?" His mouth finds your breasts this time, and you just know he's leaving a few marks there by the way he sucks on your skin.
“You wanna hear how good it makes me feel?”
"Ihmm."
“Oh, you are even dirtier than you are showing, aren’t you, Sergeant Barnes?”
He looks up immediately. "Say that again." He demands.
“Sergeant Barnes?”
"Fuck, you need to rub faster."
“You need to fuck me harder.” You say while listening to his order.
"Harder?" He repeats, shocked, not expecting that in the slightest. But he does as you demand in a heartbeat, biting his tongue because it feels so good.
You have a hard time holding back your reaction because it feels just perfect. You can feel your orgasm approaching.
“Shit, you need to cover my mouth,” you say as quickly as possible.
"Just use me. Bite my shoulder," he suggests quickly, keeping the pace exactly the same.
You wanna say no, because you don’t wanna hurt him but there’s no other choice left. You sink your teeth in somewhere between his neck and shoulder and try to muffle yourself. The orgasm hits you so hard that you are afraid someone is gonna hear you even like this.
"Fuck," he groans, the pain feeling amazing as you keep coming, your legs wrapping even more tightly around his ass.
“Please, don’t stop,” you manage to say and go back to biting him, very aware of the hickey you are giving him, but that doesn’t stop you because you don’t want to get caught like this.
"Can't stop." At this point you wonder how no one noticed you by now. The sound of your skin touching and your groans are not quite silent. But even if they did, you know you wouldn't stop. How could you?
"Keep rubbing, I want you to find pleasure again."
“Again?” You sound shocked because you've literally just come.
"Again." He tries to lift one of your legs a little more. "Please."
“I don’t think I can, but keep going, okay?” You already came twice in a short amount of time. How much more can you do?
"Well, I think you can." He smiles. "Gonna mark me up, baby?"
“I think I already did.” You can see your teeth marks on his neck. You are sure it will turn into purple really soon.
"I'm your property now?" The hand he has on the back of your head quickly grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist.
“Are you?” You like the sound of that and how he’s pulling your hair.
"I am." He's frantically thrusting in and out of you. "Rub faster."
“Fuck,” you mumble while rubbing yourself. You aren’t sure if it’s gonna do anything, but it feels good. “Can I keep you then? You know, kidnap you and hide you in my apartment so you don’t have to go back to the war. We can just do this every day.”
"Fuck, do it." He smiles. "I dare you."
“Should I tie you up so it looks more realistic?” And suddenly all that rubbing starts to feel different, more pleasurable.
"On your bed? Go ahead."
You laugh at how easily he’s convinced, but your laugh is interrupted by a moan.
"Gonna come for me, dolly?"
“I am not sure.” You struggle to speak. “It feels like it.”
He pulls your hair hard. "Please, please."
“You beg so beautifully, how can I say no?” It’s not like your body is saying no, either.
When you finish coming again, you watch with your eyes semi-closed as James takes himself out without dropping you even a little and comes right on your thighs and ripped stockings. You feel the warmth of his come while you both are trying to catch your breath.
"This was… wow."
“This is a hell of a first date.” You find yourself giggling. Did all that really happen? The soreness between your legs says yes.
Bucky slowly puts you down. "You think?" He snorts.
“Oh yeah, very memorable.” You notice that your stockings are completely ruined so you have no other choice but to take them off.
"Fuck, you're dripping." He doesn't look like he's sorry and he can't say he is, either. He's actually very proud.
“Yeah, I am aware.” You laugh while taking them off and using them like a washcloth to clean yourself up.
"You have no idea how lovely the sight is." He winks at you while zipping up his pants.
You bite your bottom lip while looking at him. “Likewise. You look satisfied, Sargeant. Did something happen while you were gone?” You pull your skirt down.
"I got touched by an angel."
You laugh. “So cheesy. You are lucky that you are a bookworm. A really good-looking one, who is also good at bed even though we didn’t even need one.”
"Next time. Maybe we'll break it." He sounds so confident, but not demanding at all at the same time.
“When are you going back?” You find yourself asking. If he’s promising you a second time, you are gonna take it.
"In one week."
You make a sad face without realizing then take a deep breath to help yourself focus on the positive side. “That’s a lot of sex.”
He immediately lifts your chin and presses a kiss on your forehead. "I was joking. We got two months."
“You are such a liar.” You punch him in his shoulder.
Which only makes him laugh. "You like it hard."
But your attention is on his neck, on the spot you bit so hard. The purple spot looks really old and mostly faded already.
"No comment?" He snorts. "We're gonna have a lot of fun for sure."
“I have a question.” Your eyes are still on that same spot. “Does Steve heal quickly?”
"Why? You plan on kicking his ass?"
“Just answer the question, please.”
"Yeah, he does." Bucky shrugs. "One of the perks of the serum."
“Even the small scars or purple spots?”
"Yes." Bucky doesn't even think about it. "Which is great. Why? You think your friend will want to know?"
You don’t comment about his question, instead, touch the spot you bit down so hard. “You are nearly completely healed. My mark has vanished.”
"What?" He asks, confused.
“I bit down on your neck so hard, it was dark red. Now it’s gone.”
"I don't get purple easily. Never did. I guess you have to suck a little more." He smiles leaning in to kiss you again.
“I fully bit you,” you say before he does.
"I noticed." He giggled.
Since he doesn’t take it that seriously you let it go. “Fine. I will prove it to you later.”
"Prove what?" He gives you another kiss.
“That you heal quickly.” You try to fix yourself while you kiss him back.
"Oh, I feel healed every time I look at you."
“You are so cheesy.” Yet you can’t help but laugh. “How do I look?”
"Good boy version or?" He pauses dramatically.
“Both.”
"Good boy version first: you look like an angel." He smiles cheekily.
You snort. “I’m asking if I look decent, Bucky.”
"Angel,” he repeats before dropping his hands to your ass and squeezing. "They won't know you've got fucked against the wall if that's what you're afraid of. But you look strangely content and happy."
“That’s because I had a good date.” You scrunch your nose cheekily.
"Me too. The best date ever."
“Should we try to find our best friends?”
"Oh, sure." Bucky leans in to get the teddy bear before handing it to you.
"Ready for more war stories?"
“No, I’m not.” You hug the bear. “I gotta wash this.”
Bucky snorts. "Poor bear. Got traumatized."
“Traumatized and all dirty.” You don’t notice how close you are to Bucky until you feel him next to you. “Should we keep this a secret from our friends?”
"Do you want to?"
“I meant the having sex in a dark alley part. I don’t think my friend needs to know that.” She definitely shouldn’t know all this.
"We should totally keep that part to ourselves." He smiles.
“I could say that you kissed me or something. I don’t know. Is that too forward for the first date?”
"There's no such thing. You can say I kissed you."
“I was genuinely asking.” You smile. “I normally don’t even kiss on the first date.”
Bucky giggles, his hand squeezing your hip. "I am a lucky gal." You smile back at him until you notice a familiar face.
“Oh, is that Steve?” You point to the tall blonde guy.
"Yes, that's him. But where is your friend?"
“Right in front of him. I can see her dress.” It’s sticking on the side.
"Oh, yes. Gonna drive you home after that if that's alright with you." He sounds so casual like he already did that many times, but you notice something else.
“You have a car and you didn’t think of using it until now?”
"Oh." Redness takes over his cheeks. "I got… distracted."
"You are such an idiot." You start to giggle while walking toward your friends.
"Your idiot now. You got stuck with me for at least two months." He laughs.
"Just for two months?" You test his intentions.
"I can't assume you'd want to wait for me, can I?"
"I will tell your best friend to bring you back home in one piece. He's the hero after all. That should be easy, right?"
Bucky looks at her with a soft expression before kissing her hair. "Guess you really got stuck with me."
"Oh shit, Steve saw you kissing my hair." It’s going to be hard to keep this thing between you two.
"Does it bother you?"
“No, no, no.” You quickly try to explain. “It’s just I’m worried that they might think the worst of me. I mean… questioning our closeness.”
"I dare them." She is surprised by how serious and determined he is as he speaks.
“I would kiss you right now if I could.”
"I won't stop you." He giggles like a kid.
“Our friends are,” you whisper and look at your best friend, who is coming toward you. Cassie is holding Steve’s arm proudly.
"Oh, hello," Steve says. "Where have you been?"
"Here and there." Bucky shrugs. "Did you have fun?"
"Yes!" Cass immediately giggles, joining the conversation. "He has the best, best stories. What about-" She cuts herself off when she notices your appearance. "What happened to your stockings?"
“Oh.” You blush a little, thinking about how they got ruined. “I tripped and ruined them. They looked so horrible I had to take them off completely.”
"Yes, they got really dirty," Bucky confirms with the biggest grin Steve has seen in ages.
"Oh, really?" He lifts his eyebrow. "What a shame."
“Yeah. Sergeant Barnes promised me a new pair. What a gentleman he is.”
"A gentleman indeed." Steve shakes his head, well aware of what you two have done.
You bite your lip and give Bucky a look, hoping at least Cassie has no idea. You are sure the three of you can keep a secret. For now…
You may wanna read the next part: Trust In What Tomorrow Brings
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spdrwdw · 6 months
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Pairing: Dom!Miguel x Virgin!Sub!f!reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral-m/f receiving, hair pulling, choking, unprotected intercourse, no use of y/n
Summary: You and Miguel have been together for over a year, however, you have never been sexually intimate with him, nor with anyone, actually. You were a virgin. Miguel never seemed to mind, in fact, he's been rather patient with you. However, you believe now is the time to experience your first time with him.
A/N: this is my first Miguel fic! I do hope everyone enjoys it. I do have some ideas for more future fics. And I am currently taking requests. Also, thank you to @thel0velykey190 for the request. Note: this fic has not been proofread so apologies for any grammatical errors. *Translation for Spanish words/phrases and sentences will be at the end
Word Count: 2.7k
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“Wait, wait, wait! Are you sure about this? Like, one hundred percent sure?” Miguel asked you, eyes wide and brows raised.
You looked at him with determination and nodded your head. “Yes. Yes, I am sure. I’m ready for this, Miguel.” You have been pondering about this for days. Weeks, even. It was time. You were tired of your toys. They didn’t satisfy you anymore. But, you were certain that Miguel would. You knew he would. And he knew it as well.
Miguel stared at you for a moment, trying to find a hint of doubt in your expression, but he found none. And honestly, he was glad. He had been waiting months for this day. He was surprised he had such patience. Yet, with you, he would wait forever. 
He reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before he stood up from your living room couch, still holding onto your hand as he waited for you to follow him. “Okay. Let’s go.”
You got up and led him to your bedroom, feeling butterflies in your stomach. This was really happening. This is it. You were finally going to do it.
You were going to lose your virginity. To Miguel. 
You’ve been dating each other for about a year and a half, and you had yet to be intimate with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. It was simply because well, you were a virgin. You have given each other oral countless of times, but, whenever things got too steamy and there was a chance of intercourse, you always stopped him. Miguel was experienced. Of course he was. And you trusted him. But, you were afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him.
“Nena, look at me,” Miguel spoke softly, pulling you from your thoughts as he cupped your face with his hands. 
“Don’t be afraid. Okay? Let me do all the work. I’ll be gentle,” he assured you before you shook your head.
“Don’t be gentle,” you told him. Miguel had confessed to you how he liked being rough. You wanted to experience it. Even on your first try.
“But-,” he started before you cut him off. 
“I trust you, Miguel.”
He looked at you for a moment before nodding his head and led you to your bed before you suddenly sunk down to your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could’ve sworn you heard a low rumble coming from his throat. Miguel was easy to get riled up. And it made you feel a sense of pride. 
He watched you as you removed his jeans, slipping them down to his ankles before he stepped out of them. The outline of his bulging cock was seen through his boxers. You continued to look up at him before you began to palm his bulge, earning a groan from him in response. 
“Don’t be such a tease, nena,” he breathed.
And while you did love to tease him and make him whither under your touch, today wasn’t the day for that. So, you pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and present itself in all its glory. The sight made your mouth water. 
Taking him in your hand, you began to pump him, earning a couple of moans from him. 
“Come on, pretty girl, I need that skilled mouth of yours,” Miguel rasped, a smirk lifting his lips as you made eye contact.
You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide, with your tongue sticking out and ready for him. Guiding his cock into your mouth, you gave the tip a couple of licks, feeling the saltiness of his precum on your tongue. It made your panties wet instantly. 
It wasn’t long until you had him groaning and growling. You were bobbing your head, taking in as much of him as you could.Your hand pumping along what you couldn’t take in your mouth. 
You felt a hand on the back of your head, lightly tugging at your hair, forcing you to look up and keep eye contact with him.
“That’s it. Just like that. Lo haces tan bien, nena. You take my cock in your mouth so well. I can’t wait to see how you take it in that virgin pussy,” he growled. 
“Así. Chúpelo.”
His comment made you whimper onto his cock.
You could feel a bit of wetness pooling onto your panties from his words, imagining how he was going to feel inside you. How he would stretch you out so deliciously. 
Swirling your tongue around his cock, you continued bobbing your head, Miguel’s cock twitching slightly in your mouth. When you grazed the shaft with your teeth, Miguel let out a raspy moan, tilting his head back. 
“Keep going, nena. Just like that. Just like that for me,” he growled. 
You continued with your work, taking in as much of him as you could til you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water. You knew he was getting close as he felt him twitching again. 
“Hold that pretty head still for me,” Miguel ordered, and of course, you did as you were told. He gripped onto your hair a little tighter, keeping you still as he fucked into your mouth. You kept your jaw slacked for as long as you could before he pulled out of your mouth and came on your face with a grunt. Keeping your mouth open and tongue out, you caught the streams of cum, licking up and swallowing every bit of it. 
Miguel then picked you up like you weighed nothing and laid you down on the bed. He removed the remainder of his clothing before doing the same with you.
You let out a soft gasp as his lips began trailing down your body, giving you goosebumps. 
Miguel always worshiped your body any way he could. 
As he made his way further down, he pushed your legs apart, hoisting them over his shoulders as he made his way to your aching, wet core. Licking his lips, he spread your pussy with his long fingers, groaning at the sight of your wetness. Your smell was intoxicating to him and it made his mouth water. 
“Miguel,” you whimpered out his name just before feeling his tongue lapping over your folds, licking and sucking and slurping your juices. He was a man starved. 
You quickly became a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, hearing the sounds of him just slurping up your pussy like it was some sweet. You could feel his teeth grazing at your bundle of nerves, tongue swirling around and slipping into your pussy. 
Grabbing onto his hair, you gave it a tug, bucking your hips against his face, needing more. 
“Miguel, please!” You cried out. “I need you, please.”
“Need you to cum on my face first,nena,”Miguel muttered against your pussy, keeping his brutal pace with his mouth and tongue. 
You let out a whine, tugging onto his hair as you continued to grind his face, feeling that familiar heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Your thighs began to quiver a bit, back arching. 
He then quickly slipped a finger inside of you, then another, then he had three of his fingers inside you, pumping into your pussy. 
“Miguel!” You gasped, feeling him curling his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. 
“Need to stretch you out. Gotta get you nice and ready for my cock.”
You bit your lip, feeling his tongue and fingers overstimulating you. It wasn't much longer until you came. 
Crying out his name, you did as he had desired, spilling yourself all over his face, feeling his warm tongue licking you all up without wasting a single drop of you. You needed more. You were aching for him. You were ready. 
Miguel crawled over your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin before kissing you feverishly on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. 
He kneaded your breasts with his hands, pinching and tugging at the nipples, making you cry out into his mouth. 
"M-Miguel..please..” you started to beg, trying to grind your drenched pussy against his swollen cock. You didn’t want to wait any longer. 
A low rumble was heard coming from the back of Miguel’s throat from your movements. You were soaking his cock with your never-ending flow of juices. He wasn’t going to be able to stall much longer. 
Lifting his head up to look at you, he licked his lips. Normally, he would’ve gotten on with it already. But, this was you. You were his girlfriend. His most treasured person. He wanted this to be the best experience possible for you. 
Despite the lust-filled look in his eyes, he still looked at you with a bit of concern. He wanted to make sure you were really positive about this. He could wait. He would wait a lifetime for you.
You could see the hint of concern on his face and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down. 
“I’m ready, Miguel,” you assured him, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Go ahead.”
Nodding his head, he did as instructed. He pushed your legs apart and aligned himself to your entrance, teasing you with his swollen tip, causing you to moan. 
Ever so slowly, he began to push himself into you, causing you to let out a gasp as you felt his cock stretching you out. 
“You okay?” He asked, stalling his movements. Last thing he was gonna do was force himself into you. 
You nodded your head. You didn’t want him to stop. 
“Relax for me, mi alma. I need you to relax. I’ll be able to slide in more smoothly,” he told you, caressing your cheek before he slowly began to push himself in. 
You did your best to relax. But holy shit he was huge! You thought he was gonna rip you in half. 
But, after a blink of an eye, he was seated comfortably inside of you. “There you go,” he breathed. 
“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”
You just nodded your head. 
Miguel started to move, slowly at first, checking in on you before he gradually increased speed. 
Until he was fucking you into the mattress. 
“Oh, Miguel!” You cried out, clawing at his back as he thrusted hard and deep inside of you, his hand wrapped around your throat. 
Your eyes were rolled back, your back arched. This was your first time and it felt so so glorious. 
“Like that, nena? Like it when I fuck you like a little slut?” Miguel growled, very pleased that you were taking him so well. 
“Y-yes!” You sobbed as he lightly tightened his grip around your throat. 
“Fuck! This pussy is so tight and delicious. Sucking me in,” he growled. 
He glanced down to where your bodies met, seeing how his cock disappeared into your pussy. He was going balls deep, smacking them against your ass. The sound of skin to skin filled the room. 
“Miguel!” You cried out his name, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your release. 
“I’m gonna cum!”
“Cum for me, nena. Let it out,” he rasped against your ear. 
“Want this cock drenched with you. Gonna fill this pussy up so good with my seed.”
You whimpered, closing your eyes before you felt a hand gripping your face. “Look at me. I want those pretty eyes open while I fill you up,” he ordered. 
You opened them and stared up at him, not daring to break eye contact. His gaze made your pussy clench, causing you to let out a mewl. His thrusts quickened, knowing that you were teetering on the edge. Just a little more and..you came with a cry, singing his name. 
Miguel moaned out your name, feeling your walls fluttering around him as you climaxed. 
He gave you a couple more thrusts, his movements growing sloppy before he came inside you.The feeling was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It felt warm as he filled you up with his cum, causing you to let out a soft gasp, eyes wide.
Miguel slowly began to pull out of you once he was done, before you grabbed onto his wrist and shook your head. 
“Again.”
“A-Again?” Miguel repeated in question, eyes growing wide. 
“Yes. I..I really liked it,” you admitted, blushing a bit as you averted your gaze.
 Miguel stared at you for a moment before he finally let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “You are going to be the death of me, nena.”
And so, a second time became a third, which then became a fourth. 
Miguel had you face down and ass up as he rammed into your swollen, sore pussy. Filled to the brim already with his seed. You let out muffled cries, your face planted into a pillow as Miguel hit that sweet spot again and again.
“¡Mierda! Had I known you were gonna love this so much..” he muttered through gritted teeth. 
“Who knew you’d be such a little slut for me, nena. It’s so sexy.” 
Now that you were comfortable with sex and Miguel’s size, he wasn’t going to hold back. You had broken the dam. 
“Now I’m gonna get to have my way with you whenever I want, right?”
You only let out a muffled moan in response right before Miguel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head up, leaning down over your back as he continued his harsh thrusts. 
“What was that?” He smirked, giving your ass a smack. 
You let out a cry at the sting of his hand before nodding your head, feeling tears pricking from your eyes. “Y-yes!” You sobbed out before letting out a moan. 
“That’s my girl,” Miguel growled, pressing you down onto the mattress to muffle your loud moans. 
“You gonna cum for me, nena? Cum for me, pretty girl. Sé que puedes hacerlo. You did it three times already. Just give me one more and I’ll let you rest.”
You muffled a whine in response before Miguel grabbed you by the neck, wrapping a hand around your throat and lifted your head up. “Shh, not so loud. You’ll wake up the neighbors.”
“Miguel, please,” you whimpered. You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax.
“Miguel!”
Miguel grunted out your name, his free hand wrapping around your lower body, finding your clit and began to it feverishly. 
“Cum for me. I want those sweet juices all around my cock, babygirl.”
Gripping onto the bed sheets, you came with a lewd moan, doing as you were told and covered Miguel with your climax as he continued to pivot his hips against you. The sweet sounds of skin hitting against skin, the sounds of his full balls hitting against your pussy, made you immediately orgasm again. 
“Such a good little slut you are. Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Miguel growled before he emptied his seed inside of you yet again, filling you up til your overflowed. 
Panting, you lifted your head up a bit and glanced behind you as Miguel slowly pulled himself out of you with a soft sigh. He caught your gaze and his look of lust faded away, giving you a gentle smile. 
“I do think that’s enough for tonight, hmm?”
He laid down beside you, wrapping her arms around you and pulled you to his chest. 
“Feeling okay?”
You nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath before smiling. “Yeah. I feel fine. Gonna be hella sore in the morning, but..” you shrugged.
Miguel laughed and nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose we did get a little carried away.”
“I liked it, though,” you admitted, feeling your face growing warm.
“Better than your toys?” Miguel questioned with a smirk.
“Oh, so much better,” you giggled, nodding your head. 
“Thank you for being so patient with me, Miguel. And..I’m sorry I had you wait so long.”
He shook his head.”No, mi alma, don’t say that. I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. You know that. Yeah, I may have had my urges now and then but, you were definitely worth waiting for.”
He gave you a kiss on the forehead before pecking your lips a couple of times. “Get some sleep now. You’re gonna need the rest,” he stated with a chuckle.
Nodding your head, you nuzzled up against him and closed your eyes, letting sleep consume you. 
Who knew you’d end up becoming addicted to sex.
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.
*nena -babe
*Lo haces tan bien, nena. - You do it so well, babe.
*Así. Chúpelo. - Like that. Suck it. 
*¡Mierda! -Shit!
* Sé que puedes hacerlo. -I know you can do it.
*mi alma- mi soul
2K notes · View notes
pascallftv · 1 year
Text
Headlines (Pedro Pascal x Reader)
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summary: you and pedro had been close friends since the movie you shot together wrapped nearly a year ago. you decided to have game night with some friends at your apartment, but pedro stays behind after everyone’s left. a little too much wine and pent up feelings lead to the moment you’ve been fantasizing about for months.
wc: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT! 18+ age gap, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex
MY MASTERLIST
You waved goodbye to the last two of your friends, closing the door behind them with a sigh of relief. Your social battery was running low after nearly 6 hours of card games, and probably an entire bottle of wine. You were sobering up, but you still felt a nice buzz. You closed your eyes and put a hand over your forehead, inhaling a deep breath.
“You okay?”
You turned towards the couch, your heart race picking up. You had totally forgotten that you had one straggler left: Pedro. But, you didn’t mind. You cherished alone time with him, which was something you hadn’t had recently. Both of your schedules were booked tight between press and various photo shoots to promote your latest projects. It had already almost been a year since the film you met on wrapped. On set, you and Pedro hit it off immediately. You both had the same goofy sense of humor, and fed off each other’s energy. You admired Pedro’s kind heart, and he admired yours.
You kept in touch after the film wrapped, texting and calling nearly every day, and meeting for coffee or lunch whenever you could. The only issue was you were in your mid twenties while Pedro was nearly fifty. Your innocent friendship didn’t translate well in news articles. It was impossible to have a platonic relationship with a male counterpart without it being misconstrued as an intimate relationship in the headlines. Deep down, the headlines enthralled you. You were sure Pedro didn’t feel the same way, but there was something about the fine lines by his eyes when he laughed at your jokes and the way he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you through doors made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t deny that you had feelings for him, but you knew you couldn’t act on them. There was no way Pedro would feel the same, let alone date someone who was half his age. Yet here he was, alone with you in your apartment in the middle of the night, both of you tipsy.
“Yeah, just tired.” You responded, sending him a reassuring smile, walking towards his spot on the couch.
He was slouched back in the couch, his legs spread comfortably in front of him. His arm was draped across the back of the couch, his other hand propped on his thigh holding a glass of wine.
“Come here.” He said, patting the cushion next to him. You wasted no time sitting down next to him, the musky smell of his cologne engulfing your senses. He returned his arm to the back of the couch, placing it behind you head. You were sitting close enough to where his knee was barely touching yours, his body heat radiating through his tight jeans onto your bare skin.
“I haven’t had you alone like this in weeks. I miss this.” Pedro said, his big brown eyes staring down into yours. You know his words were innocent, but your mind went elsewhere. Your lower belly was taught with nerves. Why were you so nervous? You’ve never felt so on edge around Pedro.
“I’ve missed this too.” You muttered, your eyes glancing down at his lips subconsciously. You couldn’t help yourself.
“Is something bothering you? You seem nervous.” Pedro furrowed his eyebrows. He brought his arm down to cradle your shoulders, rubbing soft circles into your shoulder with his thumb. His touch littered your skin with goosebumps, and you felt heat beginning to grow between your thighs.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”
Pedro didn’t believe you. He could sense how tense your body was. Your fists were curled up in your lap, and you were avoiding eye contact. It worried him. Had he done something to make you uncomfortable? The thought sent a pang through his chest. He cared about you so deeply, the last thing he wanted was to see you so on edge around him. He couldn’t help but wonder if the news headlines were affecting your friendship.
“Is it the headlines? You know those journalists are full of shit. They’ll makeup whatever they can to get clicks.” Pedro said, angling his body towards you. You glanced up at him, shaking your head.
“No, it’s not that.” You said, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.
“If you’re worried about people thinking we’re together, we can keep our distance. I understand.” Pedro said quietly, his hand leaving your shoulder. Your stomach dropped at the loss of touch.
“Distance is the last thing I want, Pedro. It’s just..” You began, averting your eyes to your hands in your lap. You didn’t know what to say. Your feelings for him were bubbling up and you wanted to tell him everything so badly, but you didn’t have the courage. There was no way he would feel the same, and you couldn’t risk losing his friendship.
“Just what?” Pedro questioned, taking a sip of his wine before setting his glass on the coffee table. “I’m not ashamed of you. I don’t care what anyone in the media has to say about us. At the end of the day, our friendship is more important than some fucking random journalist’s clickbait.”
Your eyes returned to his. His doe eyes were soft and full of care. You loved his eyes so fucking much. You took a deep breath. You suddenly built up the courage.
“I’m not ashamed of you either. I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared of the headlines. They scare the fuck out of me. I know we’re just friends, but what if the rumors start affecting your gigs? I couldn’t let that happen to you.” You began. “I saw a headline the other day claiming that we’re hooking up and that you’re old enough to be my father. Does that not concern you?”
Pedro furrowed his eyebrows once again and stared down at your face that was full of concern. In all honesty, he had seen all the headlines, but they excited him. He was to the age now where he didn’t give a fuck about headlines. No matter who he associates himself with, he’ll face backlash of some sort. Why veer from the people who make him the happiest? You had made him the happiest he had been in years. You were young, but you were so incredibly wise, caring, kind, and unbelievably funny. He wanted more than anything to take it to the next level with you, but he was so much older than you. You were not only an amazing person, but you were gorgeous; you could pull anyone you wanted, so he felt intimidated. Why would you choose him over someone closer to your age?
“I couldn’t give a fuck less about those headlines. Would it really be that embarrassing if those headlines were true?” Pedro said, his hand finding its way back to your shoulder. Your heart felt like it was going to pound through your chest. Did you hear him correctly?
You were speechless. You gawked up at him with parted lips. You didn’t know how to respond. Of course you wouldn’t be embarrassed, you’d actually be quite content if those rumors were true.
“If I’m being completely honest with you, I wish they were true.” Pedro voice filled your silence. Your stomach was doing backflips. His hand moved from your shoulder to your jaw, his fingers tracing along your chin, his eyes admiring every detail of your face. Your body began to give into his, your torso angling towards his subconsciously.
“Can I kiss you?” Pedro whispered, his hand burrowing into the hair at the back of your head.
You’d forgotten how to speak, so you nodded vigorously instead. That’s all Pedro needed.
His lips crashed into yours, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling your body into his. Your lips moved in sync, not too soft, but not too harsh, just needy enough. You’d been fantasizing this moment since the moment you met Pedro all those months ago. Your hands migrated to the back of Pedro’s neck, then to his chest. God, he felt so fucking good in your hands.
In one quick motion, Pedro lifted you into his lap, deepening the kiss. His tongue entered your mouth, grazing along your teeth and tongue. You felt high off his scent mixed with the sheer passion behind his touch. Any sense of doubt of his feelings for you were long gone. Your hips grinded down into his lap, your center meeting his already hardening erection. It ignited a fire deep in your abdomen, and you let out a breathy moan at the sensation. Pedro pulled away from your kiss for a moment.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” He breathed out, his hands running down the length of your back to your backside. He firmly gripped the flesh of your ass through your thin shorts and brought your hips down harder into his. He tilted his head back against the couch with a moan. His erection met your clit through your shorts, making you suck in a fast breath.
“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You muttered, pressing your forehead to his. You were both breathing heavy, your lips ghosting each other.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” Pedro said lowly, his hands spreading your ass through your shorts. His hips bucked up into yours, your head flying back in arousal.
“Touch me.” You began, grabbing his dominant hand. “Here.”
You brought his hand down to the front of your shorts, making him cup your heat. You were throbbing so intensely that it hurt. You weren’t wearing panties, and you were sure you were going to soak through your thin, cotton shorts soon. Pedro wasted no time in pushing your shorts to the side, his fingers brushing along your core. You were completely soaked, his fingers becoming slick with arousal.
“Jesus christ, you’re fucking soaked.” Pedro grunted, his fingertip brushing your clit. You jolted from the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You were so fucking desperate for his touch. Your face fell into the crevice of his neck, the smell of his cologne became more intense.
Pedro placed his lips to the side of your neck, peppering soft kisses to your sweet skin. He reached his free hand into your hair while his occupied hand slowly ran a finger through your drenched folds. He breathed heavily, his lips ghosting over your ear.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby.” He whispered, pushing a finger inside of you. You whimpered, pushing down onto his finger, craving more. Your hands wound up in his hair, pulling at the strands at the base of his neck. His tilted his head back, staring up into your lustful gaze. He added another finger, and your mouth formed an “o” shape, with a quiet moan escaping your lips.
You pressed your lips back to his. Your kiss was full of desperation. You had never felt so fucking turned on in your life, and you just wanted him as close to you as possible. You pressed your chest firmly against his, and grinded down against his fingers. His hand left your hair, and lowered to your chest. He took one of your clothed breasts into his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. His fingers suddenly left your entrance, making you sigh at the lack of contact. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt, and lifted it upwards. You raised your arms, helping him take the shirt off of you. He wasted no time in unclasping your bra, tossing it mindlessly onto the floor somewhere. Your nipples were rock hard, your piercings on display. Pedro’s eyes lowered to your nipples, a moan leaning his lips at the sight of your piercings.
“Holy fuck.” He groaned, taking your breasts into his hands, lowering his mouth down to one of your nipples. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on the sensitive flesh while he played with the piercing between his fingertips on your other nipple.
While he was occupied with your tits, you raised your hips slightly to pull down your shorts. You needed bare contact immediately. Pedro lifted you off his lap and onto the cushion beside him, and stood up from the couch. He began unbuttoning his jeans. As good as those jeans looked on him, you needed them off. You were surprised to see he was also sporting no underwear. You bit your lip as he slid the jeans down his legs, his erection breaking free. He was so fucking thick, pre-cum dripping from his tip. He pressed a hand to your chest, laying you down into the back of the couch, your feet on the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it on the floor next to your other disregarded clothing.
Pedro knelt down between your legs, prying your thighs open with his hands. He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, lowering his face towards your heat. His eyes flickered from yours down to your folds. You were glistening with arousal. He lowered his mouth to your inner thigh, peppering it with kisses. He was taking his sweet time, teasing every ounce of desperation out of you. You whimpered impatiently. You gasped when you felt his hot breath hovering over your heat. He flicked his tongue once through your folds, getting a taste of you.
“Pedro, please. Touch me.” You begged, running your hand through his chocolate curls.
Pedro’s lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue flicking quickly against it. You moaned and threw your hand back into the couch, your hand tugging the roots of his hair. Pedro worked your clit with his tongue while he brought his fingers back to your opening, slipping two inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing out in relief. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling up inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.
“Fuck, Pedro.” You whined, struggling to keeps your thighs apart. Pedro squeezed the flesh of your thigh with his free hand, moaning into your core from the grip you had on his hair. The vibrations from his moan sent you into a frenzy. Your lower abdomen was filled with fire. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, which you probably would’ve been embarrassed of if you weren’t so blindsided by pleasure.
Pedro inserted a third finger into you, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. You were never this vocal, but you couldn’t control it. You were so overwhelmed with sensations. Pedro grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away from your mouth. Pedro’s mouth left your clit, flicking it with his tongue one last time before pulling away.
“I want to hear you.” He said, pinning you hand to your side. Your chest heaved, you were out of breath.
“Fuck me, please. I need you closer.” You whimpered, reaching down to his cock, wrapping a hand around his shaft. He groaned at how soft your hand felt against him as you began to stroke his tip. As good as your hand felt wrapped around him, he needed to be inside of you.
Pedro lifted you up into his arms, carrying you away from the couch and into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed. Your head fell back into your pillow as you watched him crawl up between your legs. He ran a hand up to your chest, squeezing your breast while his other hand guided his cock to ghost over your folds. You were throbbing again, your hips bucking up towards his cock. He bent down and kissed you passionately. He took your bottom lip between his teeth for a split second before pulling away.
“Ready, baby?” He said softly, pushing his tip between your folds, barely pressing your entrance.
“Yes.” You breathed out, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you again.
“I want you to watch.” Pedro pulled away, lowering his gaze to where he was teasing your entrance with his cock. Your stare followed his. He slowly began to push into you, your eyebrows furrowing together in pleasure. He was stretching you so fucking perfectly. He pushed halfway into you before stopping for a moment, tracing his hand down the length of your torso before landing his thumb at your clit, working in soft circles. Your legs trembled, clenching around his hips and he pushed into you fully. You felt so fucking full.
He started to move, thrusting into you in rhythmic strokes, his fingers still working your clit. You were already approaching your orgasm. Your head felt cloudy with pleasure, your entire body completely overcome. Your eyes rolled back into you head as he picked up the pace, fucking you hard and fast. Your first orgasm hit you like a train, your vision going white. Your walls clenched around him, coating his cock with your cum. Before you had time to recover, Pedro flipped you over onto your knees, slamming into you from behind.
“Fuck!” You gasped, fisting the sheets for leverage while Pedro relentlessly fucked into you. His hand came down in a smack against your ass, then grabbed your cheeks and spread them apart, getting a full view of him sliding in and out of you. He brought his thumb down to your tightest hole, slowly ghosting the rim of it.
“You feel so fucking good.” Pedro moaned, his thumb pressing against your asshole, but not penetrating it. His other hand ran up your spine, grabbing your shoulder as leverage to pound harder into you. You were seeing stars and he filled you up completely, hitting the deepest part of you over and over.
“Can you cum for me again, baby?” Pedro whimpered, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “I’m so fucking close, but I need you to cum with me.”
“I’m close.” You whined, you hand reaching back to hold his against the flesh of your ass cheek. Your touch was enough to send Pedro into overdrive. With the last of his energy, he began slamming into you as hard and fast as he could, his fingers lowering to your clit, rubbing fast circles. You couldn’t handle it. You bit down on your free hand, uncontrollably whimpering into your skin. You’ve never felt this much pleasure in your life and you thought you could pass out.
Your second orgasm hit harder than the first. You threw your head back, letting out a loud moan, tears filling your eyes. Your walls clenched hard around Pedro’s cock, sending him closer to his orgasm. You came hard, your toes curling at the overwhelming pleasure. Your limbs felt numb, and you swore you forgot how to think. Pedro gripped your hips hard, his strokes slowing down as his orgasm grew closer. He slid out of you and flipped you over again onto your back.
“I want to see your pretty face when I cum.” He moaned, sliding back inside of you. You grabbed his face with tired arms and brought his head down so you could kiss him. One of your hands dropped to his throat, gently squeezing the sides of it. Pedro whined, a hand flying to your breast to squeeze.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Pedro whimpered, his sweaty forehead meeting yours.
He quickly pulled out of you as his orgasm hit. He came in thick ropes over your abdomen as he stroked himself, milking every last drop. He gave you a quick, breathless kiss, and stared down at his cum that littered your belly.
“You look so pretty with my cum all over you.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses all over you neck and collarbones. You ran you hands along his sweaty back, digging your fingertips into his hot skin and he panted into your neck. He left your neck to lower down to be eye level with your belly, and began licking up his mess. He gave your tits a gentle squeeze as he worked his tongue over your soft skin, cleaning up any remaining cum.
When he was finished, he peppered kisses back up your torso until his lips met your again for a sloppy, yet passionate kiss. He laid beside you, his fingers tracing up and down your belly, occasionally ghosting over your nipples. God, he loved those piercings.
“Looks like the journalists aren’t completely full of shit now.” Pedro grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You smiled up at him with a giggle. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a kiss there.
“I think we might need to go another round just to make sure.”
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earthtooz · 9 months
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x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+゚
in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.
warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae
a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!
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you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.
yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.
“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 
“i know. i can see your suitcases.”
he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.
“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.
still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”
softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.
he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”
“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 
“can i just come in?”
the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”
“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”
“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”
“-i love you.”
the world stills.
the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 
but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.
“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”
in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 
“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 
instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 
“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 
he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.
sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 
sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 
“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.
the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.
“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 
“stop it.”
somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”
“sae-”
“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”
with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”
“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 
“you’ll hurt me again.”
“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”
you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”
“rin will, then.”
you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”
he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 
he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.
but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 
everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.
but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 
“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.
“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”
“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 
“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”
a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.
something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months
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Hiya!! I’m obsessed with your writing. You’re my favorite writer on here, I dream of your stories!
Would it be possible to request (either with Ghost or Price, I love them both equally) something like they were young love but he breaks up with reader cos he wants to keep her safe and thinks he knows what’s best for her. Then during a mission gone wrong, they need a safe house but somehow the enemy found out all the locations of their approved safe houses. He remembered her place is close by and tries his luck. Maybe she gets mad at him for making decisions for her or maybe he learns about her difficult past that happened without with. But with a happy ending? ☺️
Only if this inspires you! Thank you again for sharing your beautiful writings!
If You Bite My Hand Again
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PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: How dare he show his face to you after all of these years. How dare you still find it in yourself to love him.
WORDCOUNT: 6.6k
WARNINGS: Heavy angst, abandonment, arguments, mentions of death, blood, insinuations of torture & mental illness troubles, Simon's comic backstory, hurt/comfort, sort of suggestive?, anxiety attack, somewhat happy ending, etc.
A/N: This was really fun to write, lol, enjoy Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You never should have met him. In fact, it seemed like the universe had been adamant to make you not run into each other on that chilly October morning almost…well…it has to be more than thirteen years ago, now. So long. 
As you head to your kitchen and glance at the clock, the hands point to a perfect three-fifteen—an hour of pitch-blackness and whispering winds that dash past the musty glass of the windows. The thump of your footsteps blocks out the heaving sigh that falls from your mouth; rubbing at your eyes like a cat as great bags sag from tired flesh. 
The dreams weren’t uncommon. 
Simon still reigned supreme in the conjuring of them, ingrained into the sinews and pulled thin by a hand constantly working them—knitting a sweater of memories addled with age. Moth-eaten. 
As you snap on the light of your tiny and run-down kitchen, the bulb fizzing and the dishwasher still emitting that squeal as it always does, you think about him before grabbing a glass. Water hits and fills the thing up as your eyes blankly stare, fatigued but yet never more awake. 
The tremors in your hands persist.
You never should have met him.
Your feet take you to Primary, laces a mess atop your little shoes caked in mud and grass—you’d chased after a butterfly through the front yards, getting caught in your neighbor's bushes and having to slip your way out before she could rampage outside with her broom. 
It was no surprise that your face was lit with a bright smile, eyes shining like fire that your teachers had given you a special name for—“Ember.”
The very thing that could start a blaze over and over again as long as it still was alight.
Laughing and peeing out leaves from your hair; flattening out your uniform, you stride with pride ingrained into your body. Well, you did before you heard the soft sniffling coming from down the alley. 
Halting, your ears perk at the sounds, smile freezing as you blink quickly. Looking to your left, you lock onto the hunched figure of a boy. 
Perhaps only a year or two older than you, you stare in curiosity as he consciously paws at his cheeks, walking out of the alley in broken and odd strides. His uniform is ruffled, wrinkled, but not in the way yours was.
He must have fallen and hurt himself, you reason with a child-like frown pulling on your lips. Blinking at his blond hair, you get a glimpse of red-rimmed brown eyes.
The boy halts, looking at you widely, fear and pain emanating from his expression. You’re the first to speak, brightness still in your eyes but a deep innocence that comes with youth. All you saw was a boy your age in pain—that was strange to you. You knew what getting hurt was like; you fell and scraped your knees often, or hit your elbows on corners. Sometimes you would cry from that…did the same happen to this boy?
“You’re crying, aren’t you?” Brown-Eyes stares, hurriedly pushing at his face to wipe tears but only succeeds in making his face red from the material of his uniform. “Did you fall down? I do that pretty often—it’s okay, my Mum says you’ll be better after a hug and a kiss!”
You smile and stand straighter. 
“I,” the boy begins, sniffling. “I didn’t fall. I’m not clumsy.”
You tilt your head, confused. “Well…then why are you crying?” 
“That’s none of your business!” He snaps, brows pulled in as he comes forward on the sidewalk. Your face twists as you huff in annoyance. 
“My Mum says to treat everyone nicely. That wasn’t very nice.” 
“I don’t bloody care, do I,” you’re sent a scathing glance as he passes. “I didn’t ask for you to speak to me. Leave me alone.” 
Naturally, you follow after, cheeks gaining heat.
“You’re being mean! Apologize!” 
“Would you run off already?!” The boy shouts, and perhaps something fires in that small brain of yours—a thought and a semblance of self-realization at the shame that emits from his tone. A tight squeeze of vocal cords. 
He was ashamed. Ashamed you’d caught him. Seen him. 
Your feet slow back to a stop, watching him hurriedly continue on and hearing the quiet gasps of breath. After a moment, you grit your teeth and run the distance; seizing him around the middle in a hug of stubby fingers and tightly closed eyes.
The boy startles, body hardening and a cry escaping his lungs. “Get off of me!” He shouts, hands snapping down to yours and digging under your hold. 
“No!” You call, stubbornly. “My Mum says that hugs make everything better—”
“Stop talking about your Mum!” The boy stomps his foot to the ground, chubby cheeks turning crimson as he tilts his head back to look at you, tears still dripping off his chin. 
A stiff silence falls but like a green branch on a tree, Brown-Eyes’ form twitchingly loosens, his prying hands softening as you hold tight—digging your nose into his spine. He minutely flinches, but you only hug him more. 
You’re both late to the building, and your teachers are going to give you scoldings. But right now, on a chilled October morning, you hug this strange, crying boy and blink your fiery eyes up at him. 
After he relaxes fully and the sniffling stops, you let go and smile brightly again, looking up into his open expression of innocent confusion. Whatever had happened, he must have fallen pretty hard, you thought, pulling out another leaf from your hair. You giggle and hand it over as a gift. 
The boy hesitantly picks it up and looks at it before turning back to you. 
“Call me Ember.” 
A pause. A hesitation. But your eyes shimmer and he relents with the memory of the hug in the front of his mind. Such a strange encounter. 
He speaks, looking away from you with flushed cheeks, muttering out as his tear streaks dry.
“...Simon.”
You walk together the rest of the way.
The reality was, if you had gotten caught by your neighbor, had snatched that butterfly—had even stayed in those bushes for three more seconds, you would have missed him. And if Simon hadn’t run out of his home crying, he never would have locked onto the burning reality that was with you. 
You put the glass to your chapped lips and take a long sip, throat bobbing as you take down the liquid with tears burning your eyes. Blinking rapidly, you swipe at the water at the sides of your mouth and shake your head, sighing. 
“Why can’t you leave me alone?” Your voice bounces off the walls, peeling paint and moving the dust stuck atop the fridge. “Damnit, Simon.” 
Today was worse than the others—everything building and stacking like some castle of misery and pain; windows too narrow to let in any light and your form stuck in shadows longer than an endless rope. There were just so many things that suffocated you now. 
And in the endless nights, the brain desperately looks for comfort. 
You hate that it only comes from the memories of him. 
“I have to go to work tomorrow.” Your subconscious reminds you as you blankly stare out the window above the sink, seeing the streetlights and the cone of warm light—it flickers every so often, a blinking taking place like the eye of a large, brutish, wolf. 
Work, then the grocery store, then back home to eat a tasteless dinner and fall back to sleep. An empty house with empty walls and empty memories. 
Your hands put the glass in the sink, coming back up to rub and dig into your eyes until the itch behind your flesh stops. A thump of a low pulse is felt in the thin skin, orbs of your optics moving before you pinch into the bridge of your nose and drop them with a slap of a hand to the counter. A harsh breath exits your mouth, but it’s quickly strangled away into a sound of ragged shock. 
Outside, under the light, the silhouette of a man leans heavily on the pole, feet shaking under him and face pressed into the shadows as his shoulders heave. You stare, wide-eyed, as your heart jumps to a rapid pace. 
“What the fuck?” Your mouth utters, watching the man push off the light and stagger with a heavy limp and a jerking body of immense stature. Whoever this guy was, he was out of his mind—and coming right for your front door. You startle to go and secure it, feet slapping the ground and face twisted. 
“What the fuck?!” Gasping, you re-check your locks and frantically look for something else—the stool where you place your keys meets your eyes. You grab it and place it as a barrier to the handle, tilting it on two legs and blinking quickly as whatever sleep-sheen that had been in your gaze leaves in one swoop of adrenaline.
Grunting wafts in from under the door, haggard inhales and a sudden slam of a body hitting the door. You stifle a scream and back up quick steps, slapping your hands to your mouth.
Sure, you might live in a shitty neighborhood, but no one had ever tried to just straight-up break in high or drunk off something. Your mind slashes to the knives in the kitchen drawer as the wall shakes again—something sliding down to the ground and a grunted whine. 
Just before you run off, you hear it. An utterance; a disruption of airwaves. A whisper, a plea. Your brain ceases to function with one foot back the way you came, hand on the frame with the knuckles tight. 
In one instance it all comes to a screeching halt. 
“Ember…” 
Who called you that anymore? The rare instance where you’d meet your classmates in the world they would mutter it; also be asked a few questions before they went on with their lives. You pause in your panic, slowly gazing back at the barrier and the stool like you’d just discovered you’re under the sights of a sniper. 
There’s a sliver of something that inserts itself into your brain. Fear or hope, you can’t tell. But that can’t be right. 
He left. 
“Ember!” You flinch, the deep Manchester accent grating your heart into shreds. No. “It’s me!” He says, followed by a horribly gritty cough. 
There’s a weak thump against the door, mumbled curses, and growls as if a wild animal mimicking human speech. You almost wished for that, considering you now knew the exact person behind the door down to his atoms. The brown of his eyes and the way his cheeks looked as they were stained with tears. 
His laugh. Simon’s voice. Everything.
Simon.
You’re rushing to rip the stool away with a clatter and a jerk as it hits the far wall, undoing the locks with shaking hands as you grasp the handle and wrench it sideways. 
His form slams to your feet with a loud grunt as the door hits the wall. 
“Fuckin’ hell! Mind your bloody—!” Whatever he said was lost to you as you stare at the bloodied form of the man you had thought you’d seen the last of. Tactical gear, terrifying skull mask, black on black with weapons galore. But that voice told you all you needed to know.
Simon Riley is alive and very much breathing. 
The same boy you still loved. 
The same boy who’d broken your heart.
After October the years with Simon seemed to strengthen. You always walked together in the mornings—or, at least, you always waited for him. The dawn of your friendship strengthened and hardened to an unbreakable amount of mid-day rays; vast and sunny. 
When he was sixteen he asked you to be his girlfriend, hand in his pockets and ache on his chin as he grunted out broken sentences. Stuttering and awkward. You’d smiled with your bright eyes and giggled before kissing his cheek—feeling his sigh and him melting into you with a grin of his own, unable to meet your eyes for a moment. 
Later, when he said he’d wanted to leave his apprenticeship at the grocery’s butcher shop and join the Special Air Service, you’d been along for the ride—anything to get him away from his father and brother. You knew what was going on, even if he was still so hesitant to allow you any glimpse of his home life.
When he’d shy away at the Halloween decorations of skeletons as if the skull would jump off the page and tense at loud cheering, you knew. You did what you could, but there was only so much for you to suggest or say without him shutting down. 
When you’d offered your flat as a safe space after graduation, desperate to help your Lover, he’d stared and blinked in shock; tilting his head at you before smiling softly and taking you into a hug. Wherever he went, he knew he’d always have a place by your side.
So, throughout his leaves of absence from the military, he’d come home to you—bruised and tired, but still the same Simon you fell in love with. You’d cook for him, tease at his shaved hair as he gave you those puppy-dog eyes, and talked him through your classes at University.
You would fall asleep on his chest, feeling the hard strength he was gaining and the way he held you tighter than he ever had; conscious of himself but not wanting to part with you. 
The love the both of you had was akin to a blaze of fire, and you often found Simon simply staring into your eyes in times like those—watching silently and rubbing his thumb along your spine until your face burned. 
He was always so gentle despite everything; you loved his perseverance, his drive to be good despite nearly every factor telling him he couldn’t be. Slowly but surely, he was forging his own life. 
In 2003 he managed to take a break from the military to get his family straightened out. His brother, Tommy, went to rehab—Simon stayed with his mother and a year later he kicked his father to the curb and out of his and his family's life entirely. Finally free. 
You managed to meet his lovely mum, still so bright, and even interacted with Tommy once he got out; went to the younger brother’s wedding in ‘06 and met Beth, his wife. When you saw Simon’s mother and the way she carried herself, you knew where your Love got his pride from. The two were so alike it was a sight to see. 
While it may not have been conventional by any standard, Simon proposed to you in the back garden of Tommy’s cheap wedding venue. Alone, so as not to cause a scene. Willow trees and a small stream of water. Fireflies. The words ring in your soul with every waking moment, and they will stay there until it all goes silent with the grip of death.
He didn’t want to use his mum’s ring—the one that holds so many bad memories for both parties. He’d used the gold from it though. Went to a man who bled him dry for money to have it re-cast. 
It was simple. A small, glinting, ruby pressed in the middle. 
“It was always goin’ to be you, Ember, yeah?” he’d muttered in his deeper voice, formal attire holding you both tight. “So…don’t make me beg too much, Sweetheart. You know the old lady’ll kill me if I get stains on my suit.” 
“Beg?” You responded, tears in your eyes but such a wide grin on your lips. The stars above you twinkle like the pupils of your eyes—the same burn still trapped. “Oh, Simon, come on, now.” He connects his forehead to yours, hand still in the middle of you and presenting the accumulation of all of his love. The other wraps your waist. 
He was shaking slightly. 
“I would never make you beg for my love, Brown-Eyes.”
You both share a breathless chuckle and lock lips, smiling like fools as he sighs into you. 
In a happy world, that would have been the beginning of a perfect life. A happy house. A happy wedding. Happy deaths. 
But something went wrong on one of his deployments. 
Missing for months, he came back…wrong. With a fiery temper and sharp snapping words—wounds on the outside as well as inside. His eyes were feral, like a dog held back by a broken chain carting around its feet. 
Simon never spoke about it—the missing days. The weeks. The months. 
You broke yourself over it, trying to help but not knowing what would make it better. Some days there were flickers of soft expressions, but it was as if he were dragging himself up from a pool so deep it was bottomless to show them to you. Simon rarely smiled. He rarely sent an affectionate glance. 
He didn’t let you touch him. 
And then he called the entire engagement off with a letter on your counter only holding four words. 
‘Don’t look for me.’ 
And then Simon’s mum, Tommy, Beth, and his nephew had all died. Been killed. And you were just supposed to move on? Live with that? There were times when you had breakdowns so bad you couldn't leave the house for days—the house that Simon and you had bought together. 
All of those years. 
All those vows and shared nights.
And he disappeared on you.
You have him sitting on the couch, watching silently from the chair across the room as he finishes wrapping his leg with the bandages from the first-aid kit you’d provided. 
More like chucked at his gut.
No one had said a word, and the air was as tense as a noose—choking any oxygen that traveled into your throat. Simon was getting blood all over your flat cushions, the crimson saturating the fabric as you sit rail-rod straight, hand clenched on your thighs. 
Simon’s avoiding your eyes.
“Take off the mask,” you hiss, pupils slits. If he wasn’t going to address it, then you were. Simon freezes, not breathing as his hands fall stationary around the bandages. 
“I’ll be fine in a while—”
“Take off your fucking mask, Simon.” You can’t help the way you snap, face burning with shame and hate. How dare he show up now, after all of these years of mourning him and the relationship you’d built as kids. Simon wasn’t just your boyfriend—your fiancé—he was your best friend. 
And all he’d done was left you a four-fucking-letter note before leaving you behind.
The geared man sighs silently, and you see his shoulders sag. His grip travels up as he straightens his spine in a fluid motion, pain medication working through him in waves of numbness. 
His brown eyes bore through you as if he were a ghost. Under the fabric, his mouth thins. “Ma’am.” 
Even his voice is older. More dead. How could this be your Simon?
Your heart bruises your ribcage as he grasps the top of his skeletal mask, gloved fingers peeling back the sown layers until you get the full image of a man more damaged than before. You have to stop yourself from sobbing right then and there; your throat going dry.
So many scars. Milky white and spread vastly—they weren’t pretty. Up his cheeks, down his brow line; even at the corner of his mouth and seeping down his neck. A crooked nose with damaged cartilage. Strangling a gasp, it comes out as a great expelling of horror, eyes going wide with shock. 
You hate how you want to rush to him, take his face in your hands, and try to brush them away as if marks on paper. But you don’t make any such movements beyond a hunch of your shoulders. 
“Not pretty, eh? Guess I should’ve warned you.” Simon rubs at his forehead, blond locks, hanging around his temple, and the black of face-paint stuck in his sockets. “Didn’t mean to fuckin’ drop in like this, Ember. Bloody bastard thing for me to do.” 
You flinch at the name, looking away as you’d been peeling back his skin with your eyes. “What are you doing here, Simon?” Anyone with a brain could hear the cracking hardness in your words. Face blank. 
He studies your features, taking in the changes and the bleakness of your expression. Brows furrow slightly before they go back to a state of nothingness. Simon glances around the room, finding the condition of things concerning but doesn’t show it. 
“Nothin’ you need to worry about comin’ back to you, Sweetheart. Just work.”
“It is when the bastard who abandoned me shows up years later, bloody on my doorstep. Stop acting so self-righteous,” you growl, snapping, “I should toss your arse outside and let them have you. And don’t fucking call me that.”
Silence descends, and your words echo. It’s like now that he was here everything hurt ten times more than when he wasn’t. 
“I never wanted us to end up like we did—”
“Bullshit!” You’re on your feet and stalking to him, pointing with your finger as he hurriedly stands up as well and looks down in shock as you press your digit into his bulky vest. “You shut your mouth, Simon Riley, and you let me explain something to you.” 
He keeps silent, mouth parted and scars shifting around his stubble. His hands slightly held out at his sides and hovering over your hips—not touching you but there just in case. Simon’s brown ords are carefully widened at your tight exclamation. The sound of his clearing throat enters the living room before you speak again. 
“I waited for you, hoped and prayed that you would show me at least a,” your throat bunches, but you push through. “A modicum of respect and show your stubborn self up at my door with apology flowers and a guilty smile on your lips. You know who took care of your family's burial plots, you fucking piece of shit,” his eyes flinch closed a bit, turning his head down as his breath hitches. “Me! You fucking disappeared!”
You know you shouldn’t be yelling, shouldn’t be pounding on his chest with a fist as if he was a door and you the knocker, but, dammit, it’s been years and he just shows up? Like this? Ten times the size he was—scarred and torn to shreds; laced with muscles and an expression of vacancy. Simon holds to your words, hanging off of them with a down-ward turned chin and eyes that lock with yours through pale lashes. 
“Maybe I-I did, o…or pushed some things that I shouldn’t have,” you hold back your tears, but your voice still wavers, tapering off like a line without a hook, “but I didn’t deserve that, Simon.” The first traitorous sob breaks through. “I didn’t deserve that.”
His eyes shatter into a myriad of kaleidoscope bits and pieces, brows flicking from one point on your face to another in quick slashes of guilt. But he still doesn’t touch you. Not until you tell him it’s what you want.
Simon opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly, unable to find any words that would even matter. You let your tears slip down your cheeks, dribbling off your chin. The man’s chest hurts, pulse thumping to mirror yours. 
“I waited for you and you broke me,” you whisper, mouth twisting with odium towards the man under your fist. “I wanted a life with you, Simon, no matter the trials.”
“I didn’t mean to…” The man trails off, clenching his jaw. You scoff, backing up a step and pressing your palms into your eyes. 
“But you did.”
“I had to keep you safe, Ember.” Simon’s fingers twitch outward, eyes frantically moving around as you sniffle and shakily walk away to the kitchen. He follows, desperately on your heels as your spine bows forward with resounding cries of anguish. “I...I wasn’t right in the head, I need you to understand I didn’t want this! I never wanted to fucking hurt you!” 
Your hand connects with the junk drawer, tearing it open and digging a hand inside as he pleads with you to listen. 
“If I didn’t leave I was worried I’d do something—!”
“Then you should have trusted me!” Your hands rip out the ring held on a small leather strap. The ruby glints where it always sits, held in tarnished gold. You chuck it at his chest and suck down breaths so you don’t pass out. “I would have listened! Gotten you help! We don’t abandon the ones we love, Simon! Not us!” 
Simon catches the object by slapping a hand to his chest, pinky finger latching through the leather cord before he jerks his limb back up. When he looks at the ring, he goes utterly still, gazing back up at you slowly. 
“We were supposed to be different,” you sob, trapping it behind your hands. He’s shaking, brows tight and lines along his face as he brings a free hand to run through his locks, gripping the strands for a moment and pulling. “Simon,” you say again, and he looks back at you with glossy eyes. “We were supposed to be better.”
“What did I do to you to deserve that,” he stares, his jaw is loose and he can’t stop clenching and unclenching it. You can see his heart working through his breast. Bloodied. Beaten by fists and slashed with knives. “What did I do to you?”
“Nothing,” he gasps, taking a step forward. “Fuck, Ember, you didn’t bloody do anything to me besides love me.” 
You sputter out, “Then why did you leave me here alone?” Your knees buckle and he darts forward, catching you under the arms as you wail out, shoving on his waist, “You never should have come back. Never should have come back.” 
He lets you push him off; lets you back up to the counter as Simon tilts his head higher to stave off the tears in the sides of his eyes. He’d known coming here was a bad idea, for lack of a better word, but after the Op went bad and all of his safe houses were compromised, he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t to say he didn’t regret his actions in the past with you, or that he didn’t punish himself for them, yet at the time it was the only thing he could do to give him the sense that you would be better without him. Safe. 
After everything that had happened, he wasn’t in the right state of mind anymore. You deserved so much better. But hearing all of this…
Christ, could he have been wrong? Everything blurred; hurt. Hearing your sobs was like a knife to his heart every time, digging and cutting with serrated edges at the veins and pumping muscle, carving away flesh to shed the pounding redness to light. You held that heart in your hand and in his he held the ring—the ring he’d given to you as a promise of love and honor. 
A pact of loyalty. 
Simon doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the blurring edges of his vision make itself known. His eyes bore harshly, prodding into you as he makes known what he’s been broken since he first locked gazes with you again. The man’s voice shakes, accent deep and tight.
He asks the first thing that comes to his head.
“What happened to your eyes?”
“What?” You ask, incredulously, brows furrowed as your hand digs into the counter to keep you upright. Simon stares deeper, the sides of his eyelids wrinkling with a not-so-hidden sheen of great concern. Unbearable pain.
“What happened to your bloody eyes?” Where had the spark gone? That flare that grew and spread like fire that was the entire purpose behind your name. An unconquerable ache for life. 
You only watch him with a parted mouth and tear-stained lashes, sniffling. Simon tries again, taking a step forward on unsteady feet. 
“Please, Sweetheart, d…don’t, don’t…” He can’t finish, the leather cord intertwined into his fingers as he comes closer. “Don’t tell me I took it away. Not my Ember. Not my Girl’s fire.”
Your eyes are so overflowed you can’t even see him as he hovers over you, fingers coming up to brush your cheeks as his mouth is open in hard pants of breath. “No, no, no. Fuckin’ bastard, not me. Not over me, please.” It’s like Simon’s not even talking to you but rather himself. 
He mutters in fast sentences, eyes panicked. “You were supposed to be better off—‘posed to move on. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you find someone else?” 
“You’re an idiot, Simon. An idiot,” you sag into his neck, nose digging into his pulse as he quivers, legs having to reset themselves. His heat melts into you as your body gives out with a final sob, “It was always going to be you.”
His arms snap around you like a vise, dragging you into him as he breaks and stifles his whimper on your scalp, breathing right by your ear; gasping for breath. 
“M’sorry,” he mutters, so silent below his sniveling stutters, “M’so sorry, Sweetheart. This is all my fucking fault.” 
You shake into his chest, face nuzzling and desperate to smell his scent again—tired from all the yelling and fighting. It was still late, you still needed to go to work tomorrow…but Simon. 
Oh, Simon. How could he be so…him?
Your sobs are quieter than his, tiny cries that make the man’s arms tighten around you every time. Hands coming up, you can’t stop the way you want to hold him; how you wish to keep him close to you and push him away all at once. How dare he? 
How dare he still make you love him after all he’d put you through? 
Simon sags to the floor with you in his hold, head bowed and trying to gasp down his vulnerability as tears stain your shoulder. It’s as if the realization that he’d made a mistake had broken him back down to when he was young, past hatred of messing up infesting his brain like maggots. A fear of it, even. 
The man presses quick, panicked kisses to your neck as his breath hitches every other second, rocking you back and forth. 
“Didn’t mean to do it,” Simon utters. “Didn’t mean for it to hurt you—” 
He breaks off and you realize that despite the years Simon’s mind was still very much fragile when it came to home life. You blink and take a deep breath, unable to get out of his unrelenting grip. 
Your hand travels up to find the back of his head, spreading through his hair and massaging his flesh. When things got bad you used to do this with him. Give the man something to focus on so he could pass through his hysteria quicker.
Simon’s ribcage bangs against yours, nearly hyperventilating with how he’s trying to hide his small grunts and whines.
“Simon,” you clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down as seriousness sets in your tone. “Simon, breathe.” 
Your ears twitch, noticing him listen to you as he takes down a long gasp of air and breathes out in puffs on your neck—hot and humid. 
“Ember…”
“Shh,” interrupting, you shush him in tiny whispers, still rubbing at his head. “Brown-Eyes, just sit here, okay?” You feel a jerky nod, his fingers squeezing your flesh off and on as he mimics your own lung pattern. 
It’s a few minutes before he goes completely still again, and you feel the burn of shame from his face in your clutch. The relationship was strained—or whatever you could call this—but you never wanted to see him in pain. Never.  
You knew he was better when he sighs deeply, completely going limp in your arms; great weight leaning into you as you lean back to the cabinets to help with the pure might of his physique. With a slow hand, you un-velcro his vest and his gear, letting it hit the floor with dull thumps and clatters. 
He doesn’t protest, doesn’t move to help or hinder. You would give anything to know what he was thinking. 
“M’sorry,” Simon whispers and you respond accordingly, softly.
“You’ve already said that, Love.” He grunts, taking in a long, deep breath. 
“Need you t’know it.” 
“...I do.”
“Okay.” You close your eyes and stave off your anger at everything happening right now. While it would feel better to yell at him until dawn, what would that even achieve? Everything had needed to be said, had been. And you’d never felt lighter than at this moment. 
You knock your head against him, the both of you panting for breath and hands vibrating with leaving adrenaline. Sweaty and twitchy. 
“You never should have done that, Simon.” Whispering, you sigh. “I needed you. I needed you here. With me.” He stays still, but you feel his lips press deeper into your pulse. You’re practically in his lap, back to the woodgrain. 
In a moment of weakness, or pure longing, you pull his head back and situate your hands at his cheeks, looking over his scars and his broken skin as he lets you move him how you wish. His half-lidded, red, eyes stare—grip around you not letting up. 
Simon doesn’t speak as, unprompted, you kiss the shattered bridge of his nose; you only feel the fluttering of his lashes as they tickle your cheeks. 
“I was scared of myself.” He mutters. “After they died…” His family. “I didn’t want to put you in danger, Ember. Not you.”
“We would have figured it out, Simon. You know that, deep down, you do.” Brown eyes find yours as you tilt his head. 
“You sure?” He asks, desperate for an answer even though he doesn’t know himself. 
Thumbs run up and down his stubble. Your face creases, “...I don’t know. But we could have tried.” 
Simon’s eyes close tightly, and his face tilts to press his lips to your palm, quivering breath exhaled with the strength of an open balloon. Your ring was still stuck in his digging grip, and it was never going to leave for the rest of the night. 
“Yeah,” he whispers, gravely voice lax. 
Studying him now, in this light, knowing he was so afraid of what he might do if he got into an episode, you were stabbed with agony in your heart. To be that afraid of yourself to that magnitude was nearly unimaginable to you.
Nearly. 
“What now?” You ask lowly, the last remnants of tears drying as Simon opens his eyes slowly, looking back at you. 
“Don’t know.” He admits. “I have to leave.”
“I have work tomorrow,” you relate. Your teeth find your lip, biting it. 
A small awkward chokehold captures the both of you. The reality was that both of you were akin to strangers again—such was the curse of lost years and trials you’d faced along the way. 
Brown-Eyes and Ember were dead, yet you still called their names like phantoms of sleek black fabric and chained recollections of a boy with red cheeks and a girl with muddy shoes. The walks to school were there, the dates, and the late nights spent in good company. Touches to skin and open-mouthed kisses. Fireflies that whizzed and the glinting of gold as wind ran through the willows.
Dark corruption stained the faint idea of happiness; of a good world. This was not reality. It was some joke of an existence. 
If life were fair, Simon Riley would have never grown up in that house—his father wouldn’t have latched onto his brother and done dark deeds to wrap the little brown-eyed boy in red tissue paper and barbed wire. A present and sheen of mild sociopathy; separation of any pain or torment. A fighting boy. A boy born with blood on his hands and stuck behind his eyes every time he swung a fist. 
It was a curse to love him. And it was a curse that burned your soul with his very name. 
“Are you going to go?” You ask, eyes blank but yearning for what little comfort you can grab. It had been so long.  Simon blinks, his head still in your hands; body not moving.
He knows he should. He isn’t sure if there’s anything left for him here or not. 
Simon connects his head to yours and you still. “Do you want me to?” 
“Do you love me?” You blurt, blinking at him and confused. Simon’s lips part. “Or if you walk out that door do I plan on never seeing you again?” 
You're about to open your mouth and continue before his own slots perfectly against it.
You gasp lightly, taken aback but in no way opposed. He still felt exactly the same, flesh still tasting metallic and tinged with violence down to his DNA; raised with survival instincts as his greatest ally. Until you. 
With you survival became secondary. 
Your hands go to card through his hair, latching and lightly pulling as Simon’s body shivers; growling against your lips in a dance of heated flesh and damp cheeks. Hearts hammer with the restraint of years. 
“I would never make you beg for my love,” he murmurs between lapsing passes of his mouth, open kisses and dark glances. “Tell me where you want me to be.”
You whimper against him and he goes back in, pressing the base of your skull to the cabinet as hands grip and slide, kneading your skin. 
“Tell me,” Simon whispers. Pleads through grunts. “Ember, tell me.”
“Here,” you admit brokenly, pulling him closer to you as you’re lifted and placed on the countertop. “I need you here, Simon. I need you with me.” 
Fingers capture your chin, keeping your head angled up as your eyes beg. Lips bush with every word, gazes wild as if two leopards locking jaws over a kill. 
“Fight to get me back.” Brown sparks with purpose, a small puff of air hitting your mouth as eyes darken over. In this moment, you do not know if you’re dying or living. “Make it right.”
“Affirmative.” Simon moves his head back, taking your ring and looping the cord around his neck, he keeps it there as you watch, breathless. Your face creases with question. The man’s lips flicker when he sees this, coming back and grasping your hips as you instinctually latch to his waist. 
“I’ll give it back when I’ve earned the right for you to be called mine again. Seems I have work to do, Sweetheart.” He kisses you once more, firm and true. “First, I’ll ‘ave to figure out if my Girl can get her spark back, yeah? I’ve proper gone and fucked it up.” 
That night you lay in the heap of limbs and sheets that couple the both of you together. In the morning the questions would start, and Simon knew you’d take nothing short of the truth. 
And he’d give you it. All of it. 
Because Simon Riley knows well enough that you don’t go and bite the hand that feeds twice. Certainly not when it was you. Certainly not when it offers a love he would never hope to find again, in this life or the next.
So you keep the other close and sag into a deep slumber, not to wake for a long, long time. 
And you’d both never slept better
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janetsnakehole02 · 2 years
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This is probably my last post on the whole “Liz is dead” situation but I want to talk about my great grandmother, who is currently 92 years old. When I was growing up, hell even now, she’d tell me a lot about her own stories, mostly about how terrifying life was under both the British Raj and Nizam rule (her side of my family is from Hyderabad - Google the Nizams and the Razakars if you’ve never heard about them, that’s a whole other thing of its own).
Something I remember very clearly is her telling me about this one song she was forced to sing in her school - she went to a Christian convent school - and the song was about the greatness of “George Prabhu and Mary Rani,” aka George V, Elizabeth II’s grandfather. Recently my mom was able to film her singing this song so that we could listen to the lyrics, which are originally in Telugu, and roughly translated it means “we’re singing in honor of George and Mary, who are the rulers of India and have brought great fortune to India, and we see them as our father and mother.”
This is just a really difficult reminder that when we’re talking about why Elizabeth II and the royal family don’t deserve our respect or condolences, many of us have very personal stories that run deep through our families. “But she was a mother, a grandmother, a person” and I don’t care because she and her family were in the business of dehumanizing and erasing the identities of millions of other mothers, other grandmothers, other PEOPLE. Why else would my great grandmother be forced to sing a song in their honor? “But she wasn’t responsible for India” fair enough, her darling grandfather had a great time doing that, but how about you go and talk to Kenya? Or anyone in Africa? Or the Caribbean? I’m sick and tired of being told to “not speak ill of the dead” when REALLY I and millions of others should be getting an apology from anyone who wants to “praise her legacy” and talk about how “revolutionary” she was.
edit: i got the george’s mixed up before. george v is elizabeth ii’s grandfather. george vi is her father.
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scoutswritingcorner · 12 days
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It's Still You
Alastor x GN!Reader
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A/n: Part two of ‘Despite Everything’ also a big thank you to my lovely Kuro (@kurosstuff)- They helped me figure this out!!
TW:Crying, talks about murder, a little screaming, angst. DONT WORRY THERE IS FLUFF I PROMISE!!
He didn’t remember when Rosie had guided him to sit down at a table, you sat across from him as Rosie had to leave to go make some tea saying something about “Needing to talk it out”. He would agree but his pride didn’t want to be bruised more than it already was. The way you won’t even look at him, of course he didn’t blame you but it still irked him to no end.
“Darling..” He started but was caught off with a loud scoff from you, “You don’t get to call me that anymore, Alastor.” You hissed venom lacing your tongue and it went right to his undead heart like a knife. He stayed silent for the first time in a long time, The Great Radio Demon was stunned silent and backed down like a kicked dog. But what made it worse was how tears started to well up in your eyes yet you didn’t acknowledge them, only looked at the wall across from you. “..Rosie told me you were still singing around here..you have your own little parlor..” He whispered out the radio effect gone from his voice, you nodded wordlessly.
He played with his cane and looked away from your face, “Why do you care? Have you ever fucking cared, Alastor?” You hissed out finally looking- no glaring at him. “Was our marriage just for show? It felt like it.” He flinched as his ears fell flat on his head at that thought of you thinking he truly didn’t love you. He showed it the best ways he could. “No no, it was never for show. I could never hurt you like that.” He calmly replied, trying not to let anyone see how upset he was at your words. No one could know The Radio Demon had a weakness.
That made you sob out and stand up collecting your things. He stood up as well reaching out for you but you moved away from his reach. “But you did. You killed me, Alastor. I did everything for you, I got the cops off your tail and covered your tracks when you were too damned tired to notice you got sloppy.” You yelled out, “I worshiped you, you were my husband, what else was I supposed to do?” Tears now falling freely down your face as your hands trembled, “I was scared of my own husband during my last moments alive.” 
He froze in place his ever lasting smile had fallen into a deep frown as he slowly walked closer to you. “That was probably my first fucking mistake in a long line of them but love makes you do crazy shit. And I truly did love you..I still do but I’m so afraid.” His shadow curled around your body as his hands finally reached to cup your face, wiping the tears away from your eyes. “I love you as well, my Songbird.” He started watching as you nuzzled into his hands, “I loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’m sorry for everything I have done..for how I’ve hurt you. You were never my target.” He whispered out, pulling you closer to his body.
“You were my everything, cher..” He leaned his forehead against yours as you let another sob rip through you. “My driving force, the person I wanted beside me at all times..could we try again? If you allow me the chance?” He asked softly, smiling as he felt your hands, your much softer hands than his, had grabbed onto his clawed ones and nodded. “I would like that, Al..I’m sorry..” 
He hummed and gently placed a kiss upon your forehead, “There is nothing to be sorry for. Tu as toujours eu mon coeur, mon petit oiseau chanteur.” He wouldn’t ruin this chance, not again. You both would run Hell side by side.
A/n: This made me fucking cry so much, I hope everyone loves it! Translation: "You always had my heart, my little songbird."
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zhongrin · 3 months
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𒆙 morax
part 6/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event
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© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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𖧷 tags ┈ minors dni, gn!reader, afab!reader, biting/marking, cockwarming, choking but not really, edging, dirty talk, cervix fucking but not really ‘fucking’-, i don’t know how to tag things help
𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭
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“𝓁ord morax! must you keep branding me with these marks?!”
morax blinked owlishly as you barged into his little office. he would have immediately beheaded others who would dare act so boorish, but your presence - nevermind the fact you were glaring at him - would always be welcomed into even the most private corners of his life, so he merely leaned back on his golden throne, abandoning the papers waiting for his approval as he gazed at you like you were the whole universe. his cor lapis-lined tail coiling behind the chair thumped lightly on the ground as he spotted the tokens he had so graciously placed on your skin.
“…. yes?”
the honest answer seemed to have made you double back. you could tell from his clueless expression that he bore no remorse for his actions.
“i must beseech you to restrain yourself. the adepti dare not even raise their heads when i talk to them!“
“but… unlike minerals and other inorganic materials, your skin heals, so naturally i must renew the imprints every now and then. i cannot fathom what made you so displeased? i have taken precautions so the process would be enjoyable to you at the very least… or are you saying that the act was not pleasurable for you after all?”
you had to resist the urge to facepalm, but you couldn’t help the natural reaction of your cheeks starting to sizzle with warmth. morax’s gentle smile lilted into a slightly cheeky grin, and he beckoned you to come over. you both praised and berated yourself inwardly when you obeyed his command like a faithful pup, knowing to seat yourself on his lap.
“are you not proud to bear the proof that you are mine, my dear? if it truly upsets you, i… will try my best to reign in my instincts. but you know how i always seem to lose myself in the heat of the moment…,” his kisses journeyed from your temple down your neck and shoulder, a silent plea for leniency.
it would have been a sweet and innocent gesture if his hands hadn’t wandered above your silken robes.
“my lord….”
“mmm… i’m sorry, darling, it’s the dragon instincts,” he nuzzled lovingly onto the junction of your neck, and you quickly felt both the heat and his arousal rise. quite literally, that was. “your smell mixed with mine is just too tantalizing to ignore. to illustrate, would you be able to pass by a banquet full of your favored delicacies without salivating?”
“perhaps not, but i would be able to refrain from devouring the whole banquet like some greedy buffoon,” you faked a reprimanding tone, eyebrows raised.
“which proves that you are, in some ways, stronger than me,” his arms tightened around you, geo-lined appendages sneakily slipping beneath your garment to rub your inner thighs, before trailing over your dampened underwear, “though it seems to me that you’re putting up a front…”
you were torn between rolling your eyes or blushing in embarrassment, “perish the salacious thoughts. i came straight from the bedchambers, my lord.”
“ah, so these are both your arousal and the remnants of our passionate love last night? how delightful. no wonder you smell like the most fragrant and mouthwatering delicacy in the whole teyvat,” he pressed his lips on one of the hickeys, staring in contemplation at your body nestled on his lap, an idea brewing like the freshest tea in his mind, “say, darling… i know you’re tired, but won’t you at least let this lovestruck lizard steal a morsel from the figurative banquet? just a little arrangement to tide me over until the moon graces our nation.”
“….. i will consider your proposal; enlighten me.”
you really, really should have thought twice about making contracts with a dragon.
seated snugly on top of your beloved’s lap after he had - far too easily, much to his delight and your fervent embarrassment - eased you onto his cocks, his non-dominant hand poised to lightly rub your abdomen, right on the bulge indicating the way he was all nestled inside your tight heat. his other hand had long since left your hip and was in the process of writing some kind paperwork to ensure the construction of what shall be a prosperous harbor sometime in the far future would be going smoothly — or something along that line. he might have sort of meandered about it as he worked, but alas, you were too distracted to actually listen to his words, clenching and squirming like a bunny in heat instead.
morax hummed. momentarily, he set his pen down against the polished sandbearer wood of his desk. his slender fingers reached up to lightly brush and wrap around your throat. your breath hitched, heart soaring like a hummingbird, cunt trembling. he wasn’t even putting any pressure ー just a light touch. a warning. and yet the message was there; even more pronounced with the verbal warning whispered right beside your ear.
"mind your manners, darling."
you nodded with a whimper, gulping and feeling his fingers lightly caressing your pulse point before they detached themselves from your heated skin to curl elegantly around the pen once more. the deity resumed talking as if whatever happened was a delusional wet dream you conjured out of desperation this fine afternoon, but this time, you ceased squirming. he gave you a soft kiss on your nape as a reward. pride permeated your veins, your eyelashes fluttering and fists clenching in an attempt to control yourself.
"not to fret, your patience will be rewarded," he purred, deep and velvety and smooth, his breath tickling your skin, burning your nerves and sending your arousal lurching. perhaps you should have begged for him to relent to his depraved desires and devour the whole banquet instead.
the hand on your tummy trailed upwards to settle on your chest, palming idly before rolling a painfully hard nipple between the calloused pads of his fingers, the gentle movement a complement to the cold sensation of his rings pressing onto soft, sensitive flesh. sparks bloomed like fireworks and slick trickled down your stuffed pussy. yet still, you obeyed with trembling thighs; the only body part moving being your walls, squeezing around his cock, wishing for it to move and bully your sweetest spots with hard and precise series ofー
"so well behaved for me...."
you swore you heard him chuckle.
"my good mate."
he graciously bestowed you a new mark on your neck and a teasing little thrust, just enough for the two heads to peck your cervix like a teasing lover, savoring the enchanting wail falling from your lips.
“oh, this archon can’t wait to utterly ruin you tonight.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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de-aged Danny is one of my babies,
Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”
Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little
The Waynes knew that Jason had become far more distant since his accident. Bruce blamed himself, but in the end, it was Joker all over again.
The family had been on other missions when a distress call from Bruce came in. They all raced to give aid- if it was Bruce calling, then you know it was a huge deal- only to find their father figure pressing his hands desperately to the neck of a bleeding Jason.
The Joker had sliced his neck in one of his sick games.
They were able to get him to medical aid and save his life, but the damage to his vocal cords had been too severe. Jason would never be able to speak again.
Since then, Jason has kept his distance. The whole family was fluent in sign language- one of the first of many languages Bruce had them learn for their Bat training- but it only helped them if Jason wanted to sign around them.
It felt like the second oldest was actively trying to avoid the acknowledgment of his injury. Little by little, Jason began to drift away from the family. He no longer arrived early for family dinners to help Alfred cook, he did not say for games or movies afterward, he found excuses to not hang out with the family members, and even after patrol, he left as soon as he finished.
Even texts were becoming less and less frequent. The Wayne children attempt to surprise visit him just so they can make sure he isn't alone until Jason starts jumping between safe houses.
Jason is isolating himself, and the Waynes are alarmed by the way he is retreating into himself. This continued for months, and nothing they did worked to help him.
Despite the desperate attempts to connect to him, Jason was too far gone to be reached. He did not die, but they lost him all the same.
Then, one day, out of the blue, Jason's distance changed. Yes, he was still not coming around the family much, but the sadness on his shoulders loosened.
His demeanor was still tired, but not as if his soul was exhausted. He still ran off after patrol, but instead of a shameful shuffle, his stride was more excited.
No one knew why, but Wyanes breathed a sigh of relief at the change.
They also had some theories.
"He has a lover!" Dick exclaims after watching Jason run off the second Bruce dismisses them. He had stopped to clean himself up a little before riding out as Jason, the civilian. "He's going to go get ready for a hot date."
"He found a new book series." Duke offered as Jason seemed to be writing in a little notebook. He was thoughtful and dazed as he wrote like whatever notes he took were something he would revisit again. "He is writing fanfiction again."
"His crime empire is being threatened, so he is slowly picking off traitors," Tim proposed after seeing Jason upgrade his security to his home and safe houses. He even added a new line to the cons so that he could listen to his home like a Bat version of a baby monitor. "Doing it quick and quietly to not let them escape."
"He is going back to school!" Steph announced happily when she saw him at the store buying school supplies. "He can finally get that diploma he has always wanted!"
"He has found a new passion for a hobby," Damian countered after seeing Jason look over his old art easel. Jason had asked Damian what he recommended for a beginner. "It's allowing him to have an outlet in a creative, healthy manner."
"He has fallen for a book character again and can't tell the difference between reality and Fiction." Bruce fretted after seeing Jason chuckle to himself at post-it notes that had little hearts in his lunch box. They were signed by Jason's favorite characters in a writing that was reasonably similar to Jason's.
Cass only smiled knowingly, but she always seemed to know more of what was happening than the rest, no matter the situation.
The only other person who knew more than her was Alfred, but that man would never share secrets with anyone for any reason.
Jason seemed unaware of their theories or concerns (Bruce) since he was always busy doing whatever he was doing. It got to the point they decided to follow him about, only becoming more confused when Jason visited places like pre-schools and kid-friendly parks around the city.
It didn't help that Jason caught on to the fact he was being followed, leading the Bats all over the city to random locations and had them fumbling about what was a natural destination and what was retaliation for the trailing.
Then, one night, while the Bats were meeting up on a rooftop for some briefing and a breather, the new con line sprung to life, scaring everyone connected to it out of their skins.
"There is a strange man in the house!" A voice screeched. A young voice, one that didn't even sound like it belonged to someone who had reached their double digits.
At once, Jason jumped from his slouched-over position near the building's roof door and flung himself over the edge. His grabbing hook hissed as the large man threw himself across the rooftops frantically.
Stunned, the Bats watched him go, unsure of what was happening, until the young voice spoke again, a soft whisper. "He is in the hall- he has a knife."
A strange crackle of fire and electricity was heard over the con, and it took them all a moment to realize that it had come from Jason. The child- a boy based on the voice- responded with a slight tremble. "I'm hiding in my closet. I'm scared."
The words of a distressed child kickstart their brains, and everyone snaps to attention.
"Oracle, where is the signal originating from?" Bruce snaps, throwing himself over the edge to follow Jason. The rest of the family is right behind him.
"Jason's safe house in Uptown Gotham," Babs responds instantly with the accompanying clicking of her keyboard. She sucks a breath through her teeth in a pained hiss. "B, the address for Jason's safe house... it's connected to Upper Smiles Preschool for Danny Todd. Jason is marked as his father."
There is ice in everyone's veins when she says that as Danny- Jason's son- lets out a choked sob, then a scream that horrifies everyone as they try to run faster. "He found me! Help! Help! Daddy! Help!"
A boom goes off across the communicator, and they know Jason is responsible for the nose, but there is no explosion. Not that it matters.
They, too, understand what Jason meant by the strange noise he made- it's a protective rage that someone would dare to even think of harming one of their own.
Every Wayne pushes themselves past their limits, unwilling to let themselves be too late.
"Hold on, sweetheart, help is on the way. Hit him with anything around you until it gets there." Babs tells him, her voice cracking as Danny cries, and a man yelling can be heard.
"You little shit!" An unknown roars, and everyone hates him instantly. "I'll teach you some fucking manners!"
"Let me go! Let me go!"
They are ten minutes out even when they drop into the batmobile and company bikes. Jason is only eight. But every second feels like a lifetime as they listen to what Danny is going through.
There are sounds of struggles, of a tiny voice screaming and crying, then- gunshots.
Two loud and clear gunshots. Then silence, the kind that makes even a grave loud.
Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point of pain, and everyone is in no better state. The silence over the con is just as devastating as Jason's mournful crackle, like a dying fire.
No. No gods, no, please don't let this mean Danny is-
"Not to worry, dear child, I am here." Alfred's warm, soothing voice is heard, and everyone almost collapses in relief. Danny's cries are muffled like his face is pressed against something as Alfred coos. "It's alright. It's alright, you're safe now. Shh"
Jason makes a sound similar to thunder.
"Yes, Master Jason, I was in the neighborhood. I wanted to bring my great-grandson a little present and saw this healthen mucking about where he does not belong. I shall be moving Danny to the manor."
It's a command that does not allow any arguing, but no one dares to say anything as they collectively change direction to the manor. Patrol for the night has been canceled.
They had a new little addition to the family that needed them more than ever. Now that they knew about him, they would never allow Jason to keep Danny away from them.
Later in the night, after hugs, kisses, and greetings, Danny is painting alongside Damian. He standing on a small stool to reach the easel, wearing an apron with the Batman symbol, and is smiling like there are no troubles in the world.
Everyone's heart melts when he asks them if they can sit still for him to paint a family portrait. He isn't Jason's by blood, but that has hardly mattered to a family such as the Waynes.
All they need to know is that Danny was found wandering around Jason's old safe house, speaking in the strange sounds that Jason could make, and was the cause for the second oldest to regain his joy of life.
All that mattered was that tiny, little six-year-old Danny Todd was one of theirs, and they would love him with all their hearts.
Master Post Link
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semisolidmind · 17 days
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You spoil us with all the good Dogday and even Catnap content~ What are some cute/fluffy things Y/N does with Poppy and Kissy after they leave factory together? Besides Catnap, do any of them have their own rooms/pair up together? I’m sure Dogday naps often with Y/N, would Poppy do the same?
poppy and kissy share a room (cause they are sisters 😌). they decorate it with cute curtains, drawings, and flowers picked from outside. the two share a king sized bed with cute homemade quilts on it.
y/n and dogday share a room (cause they're basically married).
catnap, if he's alive, sleeps in the barn (cause noone trusts him in the house).
i like to think y/n and poppy are better friends outside the factory than in. there's no hidden agendas after the prototype is destroyed, and they're just allowed to trust each other fully. poppy feels more comfortable asking y/n for help.
poppy and kissy love to help in the kitchen, though kissy is almost too big and poppy is almost too small.
both girls love playing outside the most, simply for the fact that neither had seen real grass nor sunshine up until their escape. though she can't go out in it, poppy loves rain.
everybody gets to nap with y/n. sometimes they all nap together in a big cuddle pile (not catnap, though).
kissy likes to watch birds. there weren't any real birds in the factory, so getting to see all the different kinds that populate the woods (and other kinds of wildlife) is special to her. she likes it when y/n goes on nature walks with her.
kissy will run to y/n if she gets scared or doesn't understand something. poppy helps translate between them. y/n does their best to comfort her.
it's a very common hc, but i like the idea that poppy will request that y/n make her different outfits, or find different clothes for her. wearing the same dress for several decades gets tiring. y/n can sew for the sake of this hc.
im not exaggerating when i say the toys can and will kill for y/n.
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faetreides · 1 month
Text
MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER
cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you
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summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader
wc: 8.4k
cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.
requests are open (read the rules first)
block & move on if uncomfortable
do not repost or translate!!
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The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 
"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."
"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"
Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 
Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 
There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 
His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 
His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 
SHIT! 
It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 
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That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 
They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 
"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"
Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 
Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 
The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 
He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."
He thinks you'd do even better. 
By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 
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He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 
"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."
Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"
"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 
Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 
He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 
"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."
You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 
"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 
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Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 
"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 
You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 
Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 
The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.
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They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 
The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 
The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.
"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 
Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 
"What's this, buddy?"
"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 
Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.
"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 
“And we can get something for my teacher?”
“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”
"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 
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The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 
Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.
The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 
Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 
Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 
The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 
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He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.
“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 
The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 
With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 
Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 
His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 
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His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 
He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 
His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 
3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 
Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 
A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 
An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 
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You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.
Thank god for oral fixations. 
“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 
He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 
Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.
The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 
“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 
Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 
He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 
And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 
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The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 
He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.
The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 
Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 
Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 
Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 
He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 
Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 
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Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 
“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”
 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 
Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 
Fuck, not again. 
He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 
He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 
"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."
Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.
"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 
Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 
Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 
Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 
They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.
Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 
He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 
Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 
The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 
The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  
A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 
"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 
The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.
Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.
But that could wait. 
The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 
Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.
 Some say that means it’s love. 
You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”
“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”
You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 
He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 
“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 
The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 
If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 
Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 
“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 
“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 
He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 
The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others
By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 
At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.
Whatever that meant. 
The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 
Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 
Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 
Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 
“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 
In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  
You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.
“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 
“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 
Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”
“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 
You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 
Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 
Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 
Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 
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The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.
 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 
You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 
There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 
The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 
The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 
You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 
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Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 
The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 
The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 
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a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞
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