#I'm really indulging myself with these cards

[salokorai]

Finally another tarot card! I took a bit of a break from doing them.

I think this is my favourite so far. It's baroness Vivien Uamher as The Chariot! My lovely child of whispers... She is part of the arguably most mysterious baron family as they like to keep to themselves and most people likely have never seen them in person, let alone their actual faces.

My party currently plans to kill her, but alas!

[murdockparker]

Our Cottage

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)

A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it

__

The room was too fragrant. 

Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true. 

“What in the world?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”

“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”

“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”

She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”

Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”

“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”

“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”

She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.

“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”

“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”

“Not a clue.”

“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”

“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”

“A year ago, today.”

“Today is… surely not…”

Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.

~

Dearest,

I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been. 

Happy anniversary, my love.

Yours forever,

B

~

Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.

“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”

“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”

“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”

“Not your first one though, correct?”

“Well, no—”

“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”

“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.

_

“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”

“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”

“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.

“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”

Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”

“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”

“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?

“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”

Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.  

“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”

“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”

“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.

“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”

“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”

“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”

“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”

“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”

“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”

“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”

“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus. 

“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”

“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”

(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”

“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.

As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.

_

Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day. 

Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.

When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family. 

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”

“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.

“How was your family, sir?”

“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”

“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”

“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”

“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”

“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”

“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”

“You as well, sir.”

Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.

“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”

Silence.

“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”

A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door. 

Odd.

“(Y/N)…?”

He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing. 

“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”

“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”

“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”

“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”

“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”

“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever. 

“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—” 

“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.

“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”

“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”

“So it is not yet finished—”

“May I see it?”

“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.

“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.

“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”

“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”

She nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand. 

Laughter filled the room.

“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”

“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”

On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.

“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”

“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”

“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”  

“Benedict—”

“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Truly?”

“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.

“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige. 

After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other. 

“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”

“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more. 

“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”

“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”

Another playful slap to his arm. 

“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—” 

“What about our bedchambers?” He offered. 

“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”

“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”

“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”

“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”

“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”

“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”

“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes. 

“I may have a few ideas…”

_

The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.

“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”

“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”

“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”

“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”

“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.

“So I’ve been told.”

“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”

“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”

“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”

“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”

Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement. 

Their daughter was born only nine months after.

“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.

“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

[aventurinemybeloved]

Summary: Aventurine wouldn't mind being your personal mannequin forever if it meant having you this close to him

Fem!reader who's a popular fashion designer all throughout the universe, currently just "friends" with aventurine here, more like sugar daddy tho- very self indulgent because I have my oc in mind while writing this lol

"Not that I'm questioning your process when it comes to your craft, but aren't you tired?"

"Hm nope, not at all are you?"

"I've handled far worse than just standing for a few hours, don't mind me friend, continue"

While that wasn't exactly a lie, it has been a couple of hours since Aventurine was made to be a makeshift mannequin for you, this was supposed to be a day to relax and take both your mind off work.

But it seems that inspiration has struck the minute you laid eyes on a particular fabric store that just got a new stock on a handful of interesting designs, without a second thought you rushed in, your companion had looked away for one second and the next he sees that you've already made yourself comfortable shuffling through the many options to choose from.

As he made his way back to your side, the faint sound of you mumbling under your breath could be heard clearer and clearer, while he didn't quite catch all of it, he was able to piece some things, one of which you wishing you had your mannequin back at the boutique right about now.

"Hey, why not use me for a bit?"

While Aventurine obviously isn't a mannequin, he can sure act like one if you need it, and that you did so you agreed without putting much thought into it, making a mental note to make him a little something as thanks.

And now here you two were, in the middle of the store as you try to pin fabric with your hands on Aventurine's body, he expected this to happen after all he's not the type to willingly volunteer for something without it benefiting him in some way, but he was not prepared for how close you'd be.

Practically an inch away from him, chest against his as you maneuver the fabric in your hands all over him trying to come up with a design in mind, his nose catching a whiff of your shampoo as the top of your head was practically in his face, he's mastered the art of keeping a poker face but a couple hours of this, no one can blame the man for cracking as time goes on.

Luckily for him it seems you've finally finished whatever it was you were doing, he can't even remember even though you were talking about it earlier, his mind growing muddled with serotonin.

He managed to snap out of it as you call over a worker to place an order for your chosen items, and of course pay for it, Aventurine beat you to it though handing his card while softly smiling.

"It's on me"

"What? Aventurine I can pay for it myself, there's really no need to-"

"I insist, it's a treat for how much I enjoyed being your little helper"

Just as you were about to contradict him, insisting even more that you should be the one paying since he already helped you, the worker has already swiped his card handing it back to him and walked off to prepare your order.

You could only facepalm, this wasn't the first time that he has thwarted your attempts at paying for your own things, he's done it so many times you've lost count, and while it's a fact that all of it combined wouldn't make a dent in his wallet, you still couldn't hell but feel guilty.

Not for long though as you could feel a hand gently patting your head, peaking up at him you could see a soft smile on his face.

"You know the deal~" he said in a singsong way

You playfully rolled your eyes

"Yeah yeah, Just let me know when you're free and we'll hang out again"

It was weird to you at first how that was the only thing he wanted after spending so much on you, but overtime you've sorta started to understand it, and want it as much as he does as well.

[lorilane33]

Midnight Musings

Pairing: Echo x Reader

A/N: I think I should start a bingo card for myself with all this fandom hopping I'm doing lol Star Wars is my current hyper fixation, and one special copy paste boy had my soul in his hands.

Summary: You wake up to find Echo not in bed.

Word Count: 1,098

Warnings: This is truly the saddest thing I've ever written, which isn't saying much. But Echo has been to hell and back, and he needs all the hugs in the entire universe. So this was my self indulgent self doing just that.

In a quiet bungalow somewhere on lower Pabu, something suddenly pulls you from the pleasant dream you were having. In the bed you share with Echo, something didn’t feel quite right, but you couldn’t place what it was.

You huff, mildly annoyed at the inconvenience of being pulled from sleep and snuggle deeper into the blankets in hopes of finding sleep again. 

You sleepily reach behind you in hopes of Echo being able to hold you until you fall asleep again, only to find the sheets cold. “...Echo?” you mumble, sleep thick in your voice. Less sleepy than you were mere seconds ago, you now understand what had pulled you from your sleep. 

Your boyfriend was not where he needed to be, and you had a feeling you knew just where to find him. Pushing the covers off yourself, you swing your feet over the edge, sliding until your feet gently hit the floor. 

You start your journey out of your shared bedroom and into the living space, leaning against the doorway. Looking around for his familiar bald head, you find him sitting at the table, head resting in his good hand.

From what you can see, he’s glaring down at his scomp link that rests in his lap. “Honey, are you alright?” you whisper. Some nights Echo had a hard time with nightmares or sometimes it was his survivor’s guilt that did him in. 

In the light of the moon, Echo looks up at you, a shimmer of regret in his eyes as he responds, “I’m sorry, cyare. Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.” A sad smile lifts at the corner of your mouth as you pad towards him. 

“It’s okay, really Echo. I woke up and you were gone so I thought I’d come find you.” Reaching the table, you place your hands on his shoulders to gently pull him back into a sitting position. “What was it this time, my love? A nightmare again?” 

He sighs and reaches his hand up to hold yours that sits on his shoulder, then shakes his head no. “No, mesh’la. Not this time.” 

Leaning forward you place a kiss to the top of his head. “Then if not a nightmare, what is keeping you awake at this hour, hmm? And if you think of fibbing to me and saying it’s nothing, then you will indeed have another problem to reckon with,” you respond, almost whispering the words into the top of his head where your lips remain. 

You hear him chuckle tiredly at your sass, the sound of his laughter lifting your spirits a little. Breaking the hold of his hand on yours, you slide your hands over his torso, stopping at the chest plate that sits atop his sternum. You feel him sigh, simultaneously in relief and in resignation at your touch. 

“Alright, fine.” The low cadence of his voice soothes you, as you hold him from behind. He reaches his good hand back up to lay over yours again, and you smile into his neck as he answers your question. 

“Cyare, it’s just…I don’t…,” he sighs, struggling putting his feelings into words. “I miss Fives, so kriffing much. The rest of the Domino Squad too, but Fives and I were brothers by choice. The two of us had been together since Kamino. Having to carry on now? Knowing he doesn’t get to? It hurts.”

You feel him shudder in your arms as speaking becomes too much for him, your arms instinctively pulling him closer into your arms. Heart breaking for this beautiful man, you softly respond, “I know you wish you could bring them back, and if it were possible, I’d do it for you in a second.” 

Stepping back, you keep one of your hands clasped tightly in his as you slowly slip around his shoulder to face him. Dropping to your knees, you reach up to caress his face with your free hand. When a tear falls from his amber eyes, you lightly brush it away with a swipe of your thumb. 

You squeeze his hand before continuing, “But I do know that wherever they are, they are so kriffing proud of you, Echo. You may have the scars and some metal parts to contend with now, but you survived. And are all the stronger for it. Your resilience and quiet strength are a couple of the millions of reasons why I have fallen in love with you.” 

A small smile graces your lips as you drop his good hand and gently pick up his scomp link still sitting in his lap. “This old scomp link? Is proof to me every day that you survived and are here with me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything, Echo. And if you need me to remind you every kriffing day that I love you, and that I’m not going anywhere, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.” Lifting it to your lips, you place a gentle kiss against his scomp while retaining eye contact with him. 

His bottom lip quivers, and his eyes blink slowly. You can see the emotions churning below the surface of his beautiful face. Then, you are suddenly yanked up into his lap and into his embrace as he holds you close. 

You place one arm around his neck, pulling yourself level with him. His response is a rumble of emotion, “Thank you, my love. You always know exactly what to say to me to make me feel better. I’m sorry you have to-”

“Ah!” you suddenly place a hand over his mouth. “If I hear another apology out of your mouth, good sir, then I'll have to punch you. And I’d really hate to have to do that, Echo.” A grin breaks out on your face, as you make eye contact with him. 

He looks emotionally drained, but graces you with one of his genuine smiles as you lean forward and place a kiss against his headset. As soon as you move your head away from him, you feel him turn his head and pull you in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You’re not wrong, cyar’ika. I’d hate to have you get violent. Your punches hurt.” He chuckles, and you feel it tingle on your lips. “And for the record? I love you too. Thank you for being so understanding.”

He kisses you again, pulling you close. The two of you continue to sit in the quiet of the kitchen, trading kisses and soft words until the sky outside turns gray; a new day on the horizon.

[jils-things]

I would never fall in love again until I found her

I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

I found you

[3.25.23]

ouueeehh we're back to my corny love letters like last time 💜 again absolutely NO pressure reading these, because it WILL get lengthy 💜 this also serves as a personal love letter that i can archive!

ahh, steven st.one. a wild card in my f/o list. i never thought i'd find myself to like him... i've always tried my best to avoid the pretty boy design after i've gotten older which is why i was oddly in denial during my early steven days hehe... the earliest memory i have of him is just me battling him in my ruby emulator back in the 4th grade - but i don't think i actually remembered him too well, i only thought he looked like a silly anime version of the classical composer be.ethoven and tbh, i still like to think he does look like him in the rse style lolll 💜

for the whole, actual story - it was just last year - i was reading the r/s arc, of course. it was one of those days in school where i had nothing much to do and snuck my phone to read manga to pass some time. at some point, my classmate joined to read with me - it was at this moment where steven debuts properly and it caught my classmate by Surprise. she thought he looked very handsome! to which i teased her... strangely enough, this exchange impacted me? maybe it's because someone acknowledged what i was doing and even bothered to briefly read along with me - so in a way steven kinda bookmarked that memory.

so after that exchange, i just kept on reading. everytime he had something to say, i couldn't help but just stare at his face? he looked nice, i guess? he's also very gentle and polite... i kept this thought of mine for quite sometime until i was discussing the manga arc with my p.okespe mutual and he mentioned him. i somewhat confessed he looked nice and that was the biggest mistake i've ever done because what my friend did after was absolutely blow me with art after art of the pretty rock collector and i was STRUGGLING. it ultimately came down to this one cute panel in the o.ras chapter where he was blushing and I wasn't the same person since then 🚶🚶🚶and funnily enough, i told myself I wasn't going to fall for anyone because of the manga and whoopedoo p.okespe!steven my beloved the greatest man ever. i mean i love the game counterpart as well, they're nearly identical - it's just the manga that totally swept me... sighhhh

steven is such a nice character to begin with, he's honestly a very humble and nice champion. he's not showy about his identity and would rather be alone by himself to indulge in what he wants. he is willing to give up a very respectable position in the po.kemon league just to pursue his interests and with that i see a man not after power and fame but a man who just wants to find joy in what he does even if it demotes him. on top of that, he's just a sweet gentleman. he was raised well of course, and you can see it clearly in his acts in the story. i love him very much for that and who wouldn't want those traits?

i was really absolutely embarrassed to be all over this guy at first - it took a whole month for me to actually share to my blog about how i liked steven and took awhile to adjust to that fact that i opened up about it 😭 but the community was very kind and supportive about the pairing and if i'm being honest, i think stevaide made a super lasting impact on my blog recently and it's really so comforting to picture them as a young loving married couple with ruby. it made me feel unashamed with what i can do with my silly ships. i'm still very glad for the endless support for steven and jaide.

soo, yes. happy memoryshipping 💜💚 thank you for making my times of struggle more bearable if not perfect and thank you to everyone who enjoys this ship even if it was just a little bit :]

credits to @/cafekitsune <3

[msbigredmachine]

Coming In London (Jey Uso/OC)

A date night for the ages across the pond. Post-Money in the Bank 2023. Jey Uso/OC one-shot.

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: New Edition's 'Can You Stand The Rain' was my muse for this fic. It kinda fit. I'm not weird I promise.

Enjoy!

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

Money in the Bank was so much fun! 

Zainab had attended a number of WWE shows with some great audiences in the past couple of years, but there was something about the atmosphere in the O2 Arena that could not be replicated elsewhere. They were on fire all night, especially for the main event, yet another one her boyfriend and his twin brother were headlining this year. Watching him feed off the fans’ energy and tear it up with his three brothers was mesmerizing. Emotions ran high afterwards and she ended up hanging out in the hotel lounge with the Bloodline and several other Superstars till the early hours of Sunday morning. It was hard to fall asleep with how happy everyone was about the great show they’d put on.

Jey was still passed out at breakfast time, buried beneath the white sheets of the plush bed of their hotel suite. Deciding not to disturb him, Zainab went alone, and ran into Jimmy and Roman at the buffet table. They were still buzzing from last night. As she kept them company, she noticed there was something else exciting them. They kept checking their phones, smiling from ear to ear and sharing secret looks. Her curiosity was piqued, but before she could press for more info, both men finished up their breakfast and quickly kissed her goodbye before leaving for their flights back home.

When she returned to her man, he was awake but still in bed, with his phone in his hands, the sheets pooled around his waist and his hair all disheveled and sexy. Damn, he looked so good. Like, “I woke up like this” kinda good.

“Morning, sexy. Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” she greeted, giggling when he yanked her down to the bed the moment she was within reach, almost knocking off her glasses. She accepted his soft, gentle kisses as his arms wrapped around her. He tasted like mint, like he’d just brushed his teeth. “I brought you a couple of muffins, a banana and some yogurt. How ya feelin’?”

“Like I been hit by a damn truck,” he murmured, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard while keeping his hold on her waist. “How was breakfast?”

“Good. Your twin and Roman were there. They were acting real sus. Kept smilin’ all wide and shit and checking their phones like you’re doing now. Who are y’all gossiping about?”

“Haha, no one, babe. We just goofin’ around.” Clearing his throat and putting his phone away, he smoothly changed the subject. “Date night at the London Eye is a go. Tonight gon’ be lit, baybeee.”

Zainab pursed her lips and adopted her most neutral expression. “Are you sure we’ll be able to go? You still look really tired.”

Jey couldn’t hold back his laugh at her faux concern. “Z, I’m good. We goin’. Don’t know why you so scared.”

“You know I don’t like heights, Mr. Day One Ish,” she rolled her eyes.

“Last time I was in London, I went on the ride. The view was unbelievable and I told myself I’d take you there if we ever got the chance. Don’t be a scaredy cat. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Whenever his mind was set on something, he went through with it no matter what. Since he only wanted to show her a good time, she decided to indulge him. “Fine. Bianca invited me for afternoon tea. Imma do a little shopping afterwards, maybe get my nails done too. I’ll be back in time for tonight.”

Jey reached for his wallet and handed her his black American Express card. “Here. Go crazy with it. Just make sure you look sexy for me tonight.”

Zainab sighed dramatically and plucked the hard plastic from between his fingers, previous back-and-forths reminding her that he would not take no for an answer. “You spoil me too much, babe.”

She tried to sound stern, but that smile he loved was bright and happy, and he couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss. “For you, baby, ain’t no such thing as too much.” He meant it. She had him sprung, head over heels for her. He would give her the world if she asked for it. She worked so hard on the daily and she deserved to be spoiled and pampered all the time.

Zainab’s fingers trailed over his pec tattoo as a fiendish idea came to her. “Hmm. Would you like something in return then, Daddy? It’ll be unfair for you to do all the giving.”

“Well, if you insist…” he rasped, taking her hand and putting it between his legs, making her cup him through the sheets. His other hand curled dangerously around her neck, squeezing lightly, watching the flame of desire ignite in her gorgeous eyes, “...You can gimme that throat.”

His gruff demand, topped by his darkened irises and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, had her pussy purring. She drew the sheets off him and exposed his mouth-watering erection. Adjusting her frame on the bed, she closed her fist around his dick, leaning down to flick her tongue over the slit of his head, and her smirk widened when a sharp hiss escaped him. 

“Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets,” she said to him with a wink, licking him one more time. As her mouth sank lower down his shaft, Jey felt his bones melt, and he laid back with a relaxed sigh and let her work her magic on him.

Today was going to be a great day.

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

The weather was nice, mostly sunny with none of the infamous London rain showers in sight, thank God. After tea at the highly esteemed Fortnum & Mason, she headed out to the High Street with Bianca Belair to find a knockout outfit for tonight. The odds were in her favor as she quickly found a pair of heels that would rock her man’s world once he saw them. That inspired her to search for an equally stunning dress, and several stores later, she came across one that made even notoriously-hard-to-impress Bianca’s jaw drop. So that was settled. Next stop was Agent Provocateur. The store was stacked with so many beautiful designs of lingerie, it was tough to choose. With Bianca’s approval, Zainab finally settled on a blood-red, backless lace push-up bra and matching thong. She was highly impressed with the amount of cleavage the bra afforded her and how the color made her skin pop. She looked forward to watching it get torn apart by her boyfriend tonight.  

Her predictions were headed in the right direction, as said boyfriend was already drooling before they left their suite for dinner. “Damn, girl. I ain't sure I wanna let you leave this room no more,” Jey drawled, resting his hands on her shapely hips. “You look good enough to eat, baby.”

Laughing as he tugged her backwards right up against his crotch, Zainab didn’t take her eyes off the mirror as she bumped him away with her backside. “Down, boy, before you make me drop my contact lens. This was your idea so we’re going. But who knows?” She locked darkened eyes with him through the round shaped mirror and twerked her ass for his benefit. “If I enjoy myself, I’ll be sure to let you…eat me…later tonight.”

Damn. “We’re gonna have an awesome time tonight, later and afterwards,” he declared loudly and confidently, finishing with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows that made her laugh. Her boyfriend could be so goofy sometimes.

—-----------

Dinner was quiet and intimate, and Zainab couldn't help but feel loved up and romantic as her man kept sweeping her off her feet. He was super attentive and she was enjoying the attention and their playful banter. She loved that he topped up her wine glass whenever it emptied, loved that he fed her the last piece of his steak. Being together like this was really nice; thanks to their busy careers, this kind of alone time was a luxury, one neither Jey nor Zainab took for granted.

The walk from the food market to the world famous ferris wheel was thankfully a short one. Zainab beamed as she entered the structure known as Cupid’s Pod and was greeted with rows of red roses and candles decorating the enclosure.

The ride came with a complimentary bottle of Rosé Champagne and a luxury box of Pink Champagne Truffles, set up on the wooden oval bench in the middle of the pod. Jey was right about the views from inside the London Eye. They were unbelievable, overlooking the boats gliding along the River Thames and several high rise buildings. The higher they went, the quieter it became, save for the personalized playlist playing softly in the background. Snuggled up with Jey on the bench, Zainab sipped some more champagne, indulged in some chocolate and basked in the ambience and the safety of her man's arms, which currently were around her waist, the heat of his body pressed against her from behind. His soft lips dispensed tender kisses along the curve of her neck, eliciting a small, welcoming moan from her at his gentle caresses. 

“You so damn fine, girl,” he complimented, pressing more kisses to her skin, absorbing her intoxicating scent. “I’m glad you’re in London with me.”

“Thank you, my love. I’m glad I’m here with you too,” she smiled up at him, lazily rubbing his thigh.

“We met on this day two years ago. Do you remember?” he asked.

Zainab sighed dreamily, her eyes closed as she nuzzled her face against his. “Like it was yesterday.”

“Mm-hmm. I also remember your stubborn ass ain’t want nothin’ to do with me.”

“I told you why. I dated a soccer player and a basketball player. They both put me through some shit. Didn’t want to deal with another athlete.”

"Naw, baby girl. None of them dudes was right for you, that's all," Jey stated matter-of-factly, his toothy smirk showing off his silver jeweled grill.

“Ha, ‘course you’d say that.” Their romance was a slow burn, as both were still struggling with recent personal heartbreak when they first met. But their deep attraction to one another was something neither could stop themselves from exploring. When he was still working in the Thunderdome, he would make the trip to Fort Lauderdale to see her after the show every Friday night so they could bond and get to know each other better. They didn't even start sleeping together right away, because they were more interested in learning about each other first. When he resumed traveling, Zainab was sure that she would never hear from him again. But nothing changed. Not a day went by when he didn’t call her; a month did not pass without them meeting up at least once. She had been afraid of falling for him, but it was impossible not to. The man was beautiful, inside and out; not without his flaws and bad habits, but who wasn’t? 

At first, she wasn’t sure how long they would last, given his crazy schedule and his history, along with her own bad breakups. But somehow she shelved all those fears and worked with him to strengthen their relationship. The fact that they were now one of the few couples in their circle still going strong to this day, meant they were doing something right. 

She studied his features as he took her hands in his. There was a nervous energy about him tonight he'd been trying to conceal, but it only felt more palpable now. “You okay, baby?” she queried. 

“Any regrets? Ya know, gettin' with me?” he asked, his voice quiet and shy.

She made a show of thinking about it. “About two or three, maybe,” she shrugged, and burst into laughter at his bombastic side-eye. “I’m just playin’,” she chortled, nudging him playfully. “We’ve had our ups and downs like any other couple, but it’s been incredible. I won't change a thing. You're an amazing boyfriend, Jey.”

“You’re amazing, Z. You’re a special person, and you been so good to me these past couple of years. I love you.” He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but shiver at the intensity in his eyes. 

“I love you too.” The feeling was still so surreal after all this time. Every time he said those words to her, she had to catch her breath. She knew about what he had endured in his past and how long it took for him to open up again. Knowing that he felt this way about her made her heart swell. She had never felt as happy and as loved as she did with him.

The moment stretched with them gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. Zainab raised his hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss across his knuckles. With that same hand, Jey caressed her cheek, down to her jaw, cupping her chin. His thumb softly rubbed across her bottom lip. Boldly, she sucked the tip into her mouth, her heated stare locked on him, and he could not resist replacing his thumb with his lips, feeding her with warm, languid kisses that made her lady bits clench and her toes curl. 

Their little make out session was interrupted by the British A.I. woman’s voice announcing that they were at the very top of London. Jey reluctantly released Zainab and helped her to her feet. “The best of all the views is right here, babe. Take a look.” He pointed, gently rotating her and stepping back.

Summoning enough courage to go closer to the railings she’d been avoiding all evening, she cast a cautious glance out at the wondrous skyline before her. “You know what? I think I’m getting used to the height now,” she agreed, turning back around for his rebuttal.

Jey was down on one knee. A little velvet box was open in his hands with a sparkling diamond ring shining out of it.

Zainab burst out laughing and covered her face. “Oh my god you asshole! Are you fuckin’ serious?!”

Jey feigned hurt. “I know your ass ain’t cussin’ me out while I’m about to propose to you, woman,” he exclaimed, watching her walk away with her hands still on her face. He could hear her laughter gradually disintegrate, and when her shoulders began to shake with sobs, his eyes prickled. “Z…Baby, come here, I got somethin’ I wanna ask you,” he called out softly to her.

She was sure she was dreaming. It was a struggle processing this overwhelming surge of happiness, a happiness that only Jey Uso made her feel. She had to sit back down because her legs were shaking. She would definitely fall over and ruin this beautiful moment he'd clearly worked hard to set up. Luckily, Jey was kneeling before her, his hand resting on her thigh while holding up the ring to her. Her tears flowed freely, but he was there to wipe each one away, being there for her as he had been for the last two years.

“Fuck, I had a whole speech planned out and shit,” he whispered, his own voice clogged with emotion, “But now I got nothing, except that I’m so in love with you, baby. You changed my life, and I wanna be with you for the rest of it. Thank you for teaching me how to love again. Zainab Ortega, my queen, my love, will you marry me?”

Tears kept streaming down her cheeks, threatening to ruin her makeup as she stared at the man she loved more than anything in the whole world. She had only one answer. “Of course. Yes, yes I will,” she replied without hesitation, nodding enthusiastically as she watched him slide the stunning diamond ring on her finger. It fit perfectly.  

Jey’s head was spinning. He never thought he’d be in this position so soon after Nisha. He thought he would never find love again. The morning Nisha breathed her last breath, he all but lost his will to wrestle, to function, to live. Never did he imagine that just eighteen months later, at a fundraiser to combat the disease that took his wife, he would meet someone else that made his heart flutter again, that caused his skin to sprout goosebumps with just a smile. At first, he felt so guilty and so ashamed of his feelings. But before her passing, Nisha had made him promise to move on, to open his heart again if he ever found the right woman. 

So he did. Allowed himself to fall in love one more time. He couldn’t believe he’d found such a beautiful, caring, patient, sexy ass woman like Zainab. Her kind soul, her perennial optimism and her zest for life inspired him to push on with his own. Now, his career was thriving and he was in the best shape of his life. In so many ways, she saved his life. Putting a ring on her finger made all the sense in the world to him. With this, everything between them would become that much more final, much more complete. 

Zainab stared down at her finger in complete awe. “It's so pretty! I can’t believe it. This must have been such a difficult step to take, baby,” she said, looking at him.

“At first, it was,” he confessed, wiping the corners of his eyes with the pad of his thumb. “But then I quickly realized how much in love I was with you, and I couldn’t live without you. I got that ring made two months ago, ma. This weekend wasn’t gonna go by without me poppin’ the question. Nisha will always be in my heart, but it’s you and me now, Z.”

She nodded in understanding and pulled him close, pressing her lips against his. “I would be honored to be your wife. I love you so much. Thank you.” She was literally on top of the world. She would never forget this trip to London, ever.

They spent the next ten minutes calling up family and friends to tell them the good news and show off her brand new engagement ring. There were a lot of happy tears and a lot of love. Apparently everyone had been waiting for this day to come. Roman and Jimmy had merely grinned proudly, and just as Zainab suspected, they both knew that this was going down tonight, which was why they’d been so cryptic and secretive at breakfast. Jey and Zainab were so happy to have the support of both their wonderful families.

She couldn’t stop fawning over the sizable diamond glowing on her ring finger. “Baby, this rock is so big.”

“Thought you liked big things,” Jey teased with a light squeeze of her waist, flashing her a knowing wink. 

“You know first-hand that I do. Oh my god, Jey…we're getting married!”

“Mm-hmm. I’m so fuckin’ lucky, babe, you have no idea,” he gushed. He cupped the side of her face and bent down to kiss her, gently at first, then harder, leaning into her. Zainab ran her hands up the bulge of his biceps, moaning into his mouth when his tongue lashed against hers and his hand slid over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“You know, proposing to you wasn’t the only thing I imagined doing in this here pod,” he said.

One look at the heat in his eyes made her understand right away. “No. You wouldn’t.”

“That a dare, baby?” He moved his mouth down to her neck, a small groan rumbling through him as he nipped and licked her skin. It served as the perfect distraction for his hands to slip under her dress and massage the round, ample globes of her backside. 

“Babe, people can see us,” Zainab gasped, but melted into his arms anyway, “We’re gonna get in trouble. There’s cameras in here-”

“Fuck the cameras,” Jey dismissed. His penetrating stare shot tremors down her spine. "Do you know how fuckin’ hot you look tonight? Do you know the nasty shit I wanna do to you right now?”

She could already tell with the bulge pressing insistently against her. But she wanted to hear him say it. She couldn't quite think straight anyway. She wouldn't have been able to stop him if her life had depended on it. "Tell me, Daddy," she moaned.

"You drive me crazy when you dress up like this, baby, all sexy and provocative and shit…I seen dem thirsty ass motherfuckers at dinner, starin’ at you, wishing you were theirs...I wanted to bend your fine ass over our table and give you this dick in front of everybody. Let ‘em all know you mine."

“I will always be yours,” she whispered. "Always."

He walked her back to the bench, sitting down and pulling her to sit on him. As always, she fit perfectly on his lap, her ass resting between his muscular thighs. They hugged and kissed, his eager hands all over her body while she rocked back and forth against his hard erection. He took his time maneuvering her dress up to her waist, caressing her thighs the whole way and amplifying her already rabid need for him to be inside her. His fingers dipped beneath the lace edge of her panties, finding her wet and ready for him. He teased gently, lightly stroking her pussy lips, causing her to moan into his mouth. He knew just how to touch her, knew exactly how to make her body react to his every whim.

His hands slipped upwards to rest over her delectable bosom. “This a pretty ass bra, ma. You got it for me?”

“Yes, Daddy. You like it?” she asked. Jey answered her question by freeing her breasts from the confines like he was opening up a present. Her titties were nice and plump and made his mouth water. He eagerly took a nipple in his mouth and sucked while he massaged the other one.

“Baby…” she whimpered, hesitancy thick in her voice. 

“Z…” he growled, his lips giving her nipple a quick, audibly wet tug that momentarily short-circuited her brain, “Unless you tellin’ me to fuck you harder, ion wanna hear it.”

His mouth covered hers before she could speak again, and this time she completely surrendered to him, allowing his tongue to slide in and wrestle with hers to a no-contest. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants to get access to him. As she pulled him out of his briefs and dragged her palm up and down the hard, smooth length of his cock, she gasped as he immediately tugged her new lace panties to the side and lowered her down onto him. The stretch was incredible, and they both moaned. She looked at her new fiancé, who sported a sexy smirk on his lips, watching her mouth fall open as she sat all the way down on his long, hard dick. They’d had sex many, many times together, but each time something new was awakened in her, even more so now as it occurred to her that anyone in the surrounding capsules could take a close look through the darkness and see what was happening. Her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but she wasn’t going to stop it. 

She moved on top of him, moaning as his dick twitched inside her, welcomed by her warm depths. He grabbed her breasts again, kneading them expertly, which made her bite her bottom lip harder than intended. When he pinched her nipples, her back arched and her head hung back. His long fingers then met her waist as he leaned in to suckle her throat and smell her, basking in the pleasure and feral desperation in her voice. Her thighs locked around his hips, giving her a little leverage to lift herself up and down on him with ease. She was dripping but still so tight around him thanks to how endowed he was. 

“Damn, baby…keep ridin’ me like this and you gon’ be a mama in nine months,” Jey choked out, his eyes rolling back as she kept grinding herself on him, squeezing her walls snugly around his cock. “Imma give you all the babies, fuck, you feel so good…”

He already put a ring on it. Babies were the next step, surely. The thought of conceiving his child on the night of their wildest sexcapade yet, aroused her to no end. “Hmm, then breed me, Daddy,” Zainab groaned. Threading her fingers through his hair, she gave him a kiss so passionate that he moaned into her mouth, he then forced her to do the same when he smacked her ass, the sharp sting zipping down to her loins. The bench was not comfortable, but they were so into it, and the ambience was so romantic and sexy, that neither of them cared. 

“Unnnhhh god, baby,” she whined with her lips parted over his own, tasting his heavy breaths, “Shit, you feel so good inside me.”

"I can see that, you creamin’ all over me,” Jey looked down at her gyrating hips with a smirk. Her creamy mess had visibly smeared his exposed gray-colored briefs. “You love this dick, don't you, baby?" he taunted, flicking his tongue over her lips.

“Yes Daddy.”

“I know you do. Fuck me, beautiful, bounce on this dick.” His moans had dissolved to primal growls now, mingling with the soft music and the wet, slapping sounds of their lovemaking. She pushed him down flat on his back, and the surprise on his handsome features evaporated when she began riding him harder, taking his dick deeper inside her with each drop down, with each salacious roll of her backside. Her moans mingled with his groans as he started to bounce her himself, his hands clutching the meat of her hips, moving her more vigorously up and down. His pouty lips were parted and gasping in stereo with hers as he made her fuck him, that big dick meeting the sweetest of her spots. 

“Shit, Daddy, that dick in me!” she groaned. The atmosphere was so incredibly hot, she buried her face in his neck, moaning her pleasure as she felt herself start to tingle and throb. "Oh, fuck, Jey, I'm gonna come,” she breathed heavily, her voice vanishing into thin air as she bounced harder and faster on his dick, hunting down that potent high. She nearly lost her balance as it seized her, a glorious cascade of orgasm, her thighs quivering and skin humming as the explosion eviscerated her senses.

She felt him sit back upright and rise to his feet with her still in his arms, his mouth moving against hers with more purpose than usual. It wasn’t until she felt something cool and hard pressing against her bare back that she finally broke the kiss out of curiosity. Looking behind her, her heart stopped cold inside her chest.

Jey had pressed her directly against the clear glass wall of the capsule, with nothing below her but the twinkling lights of London. Zainab screamed and squirmed against his body, her head spinning with both fear and the remnants of her orgasm as she struggled to get away from the glass.

"Jesus! Fuck, Jey, what…" 

"Hey, hey, shhh," he whispered, keeping a careful hold around her trembling frame. His lips swept tenderly over her jawline as he tried to keep her calm. She was shaking, her arms and legs gripping him with the strength of a boa constrictor. "Breathe for me, Zainab. Look at me. Look at me."

She twisted her face away from the view, her pretty eyes wide and frightened. 

“I-I-I…”

“Calm down for me baby. Relax.” His mouth brushed along her throat, doing his part to quell her nerves. Her squirms subsided, but only a little. He could tell she still wanted to get away, but he kept her body firmly secured between himself and the glass. “Do you trust me?”

Right now, on the cusp of grave danger, she wasn’t so sure she did. “Yeah,” she finally ground out.

“Then you know I’ll never let anything happen to you. I gotchu.”

His kiss was gentle but insistent and full of reassurance. She felt his hand sneak along her hip, then the sharp tug of her panties pressing into her skin, and a tearing sound and the flimsy material falling away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him tuck the ruined undergarment into his back pocket. Keeping his body flush against hers, he molded her bare ass cheeks in his hands, grinding against her for a few seconds before sliding his dick back home. She clenched around his girth immediately, greedily, and Jey groaned softly as he worked himself into her with slow, winding circles that touched every single sweet spot her pussy possessed. He was a tight fit, always was. It felt so good that she couldn’t stop the moans that spilled from her lips.

“You like that, huh? Daddy’s gotchu,” he said, repeating the action again and again. He stared with wonder in his eyes at his love, the most wonderful woman in the world. “You so beautiful, baby. I love you so much.” Placing another gentle, calming kiss on her lips, he increased his pace. Zainab did what she could to block out the very real threat of the deathly drop behind her and focus on her fiancé now pounding into her. The sound of his body meeting hers was almost deafening in the exposed enclosure.

“Damn, Z, you soppin’ wet. I knew you’d like this shit. Love this pussy so much.” His expression was one of lust-filled triumph as he studied her face, the parting of her lips panting for him, goading him to angle his hips and fuck her harder and deeper, bottoming her out. “This turnin’ you on, huh, your ass and titties out, all of London watching you take my big dick…”

With another whimpering moan, her head rocked back against the glass as she felt her climax creep closer again. Her eyes fluttered shut as her nerves settled and more erogenous sensations took over. Her legs tensed around his waist as she rotated her hips in rhythm with his thrusts, each one pressing her ass deeper against the glass, making her wetter and wetter and bringing her closer to succumbing to that euphoric feeling that only her man, now her betrothed, could give her. Her breath was stolen from her as his dick continued to toy with her g-spot, his grunts and gasps warming her neck, her pussy walls quivering and rippling around his girth in reaction. “Fuck, Jey, right there…Mmm fuck, you ‘boutta make me come again!”

Holding his girl in place with his big strong hands, Jey intensified his strokes, his gruff voice grunting with the effort. "You fuckin’ right, baby, gimme that nut,” he mumbled, himself starting to unravel from the near-crippling pleasure. “Give it to me cuz it’s mine. Drain your pussy all over my dick."

Zainab hugged him even tighter, her nails digging through his shirt and into his back as her moans devolved to whimpers, and the faster he thrust into her, the further their bodies seemed to plunge from the same dizzying heights as the capsule they were in. She cried out as her release tore her apart, her walls suffocating his cock. Jey was right behind her, his guttural groan at the pulse of her throat, his dick lodged in the back of her pussy as he came just as hard for her. Desperately, she clenched around him, taking it all, milking him for everything he had as the world seemingly collapsed around them.

Seconds later, the A.I. woman’s voice popped up again to announce that the ride was descending in ten minutes. Jey leaned in for a breathless kiss as he pulled out of her and finally edged her away from the glass. She clung to him as he carried her back to the bench. He pulled wet wipes seemingly out of nowhere and cleaned her up, sharing more kisses with her while helping each other redress. 

“You good?” he asked, smoothing her hair back into place and drawing her legs onto his lap.

Zainab nodded, biting her lip as the last of her climax rippled between her squeezed thighs. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“You loved it though,” he said, his deep voice seductively low as he stroked her thigh. “Don’t lie to Daddy now. I could tell you loved every second, you got so wet for me, babe...”

There was so much amusement and cockiness and love in his eyes. All for her. “You always make me wet, Daddy,” she admitted, glancing back at the sheet of glass she’d been trapped against just moments ago. She had to give him his props for his highly unique sense of adventure. “You think we’ll still be this lit after we’re married?” she questioned.

“Ay, as long as we work on it, together, like we been doin’, and we don’t let none of that outside noise creep in…we’ll be good. That’s what I want for us, Z.”

She liked that answer a lot. It was what she wanted, too. “I made you a promise earlier that if I enjoyed myself, you can eat me when we get back. My offer still stands,” she noted, batting her long lashes at him.

Jey smiled like the cat who got the cream. Literally. Picking out a truffle from the box, he popped it into his mouth and licked up the morsel that stained his finger.

“Mmm. I bet this goes great with pussy,” he commented with a sly smirk.

Fuck. Zainab’s throat went dry and her body instantly flooded with heat, despite having been thoroughly fucked just minutes ago. “You might be right,” she uttered back.

The capsule finally came to a safe stop on the ground, bringing the ride to an end. Jey and Zainab settled for a few more chocolatey smooches as the pod's doors opened. Expecting to be confronted about their antics by someone in authority, they were relieved when no one approached. The newly-engaged couple walked out hand in hand with big dreamy smiles on their faces, eager to retreat to their far more private hotel suite to continue their raunchy celebrations.

They took the box of chocolates with them…for research purposes, of course.

THE END

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

I really enjoy writing soft Jey.

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Jey gif by @jeysuso. Credit to owners of all the other pics and gifs.

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[apollokids]

Thoughts about tsats, trauma, and the cocoa puffs

Nico’s personality in tsats feels most reminiscent of what he was like in The Titans Curse which (imo) is a sign that he is slowly healing and living with his trauma.

The Sun and the Star emphasizes that trauma and PTSD can make it feel like one’s past life events happened to a completely different person, and it mentions that Nico relates to this feeling. This distancing of oneself from past memories, experiences, and personality can result in feeling disconnected for a while, taking on new personality traits, feeling like a chameleon mimicking others, or just feeling empty.

For some people (maybe, depending on when trauma occurs), healing can be about reconnecting with our childhood selves. Depending on what someone was like before trauma, like maybe Nico for example, that can mean becoming more emotional, being more playful, indulging in your childhood interests (eg. mythomagic cards). And Nico’s progression practically mirrored mine exactly through the years, and the ways I changed in ED treatment.

It's hard to let go of a disorder when in some cases it feels like the only thing that’s stayed stable in our lives. Suffering is touted as the pinnacle of art-- we see its romanticization everywhere. It sounds weird to say that I miss being sick, or I miss my suffering, when I'm actively trying to make my life better, but those thoughts do come up. And when it comes to characters I project that misery on to? Well, if I’m suffering, then they have to suffer with me! (After all, they’re just characters, it’s not that deep, right?) Except I found that the more I made my characters suffer, and focused on the ‘beauty’ of suffering, the harder it was for me to heal from my own. Whenever my health was in decline, I characterized my favorite characters the same way. It was just as hard to allow those characters to heal as it was to allow myself to heal. (Other people might not feel the same, though.)

I think Nico choosing to accept the physical manifestations of his demons (while also setting them free, and allowing them to exist as they please) mirrors the suggestion I was given in treatment when I struggled with the idea of ‘giving up’ my eating disorder– because to me, it was always either defeat the disorder or be consumed by it, and defeating it sounded like killing a part of me or erasing a part of my past or my home. Approaching treatment from the standpoint of killing my eating disorder scared me too much. I knew my disorder had caused problems for me, but many of the habits and behaviors I’d developed had served as my coping mechanism and they helped me survive. 

So, my therapist told me: “You don’t have to shun your disorder, kill it, or say goodbye. Instead, you can acknowledge that it served a purpose during a point in your life in which you used it to survive, but you no longer need to hold on to it and that’s okay — you’re setting it free. Maybe even instead of saying goodbye, you can say ‘thank you, I’m alright now.’”

And that’s pretty much… exactly what Nico did with the demons. Bob, too, acknowledged that he was a titan, and that was part of his past, and that’s okay — but he’s allowed to change. And Nico is too.

I just found that really really wonderful because I related to it so heavily. He didn’t want to conquer his trauma in battle. He wanted it to just… be acknowledged, and set free. And it followed him, but he can have a better relationship with his past now. He’s not consumed by it. It’s just there, it’s a part of him, and he can continue to live his life. And I think reading this book (while trying to maintain and navigate post-treatment life) was exactly what I needed to remind myself why I’m doing this.

[dark-side-blog3]

How would you rank the six Jojo leads from the OG continuity from worst to best to end up with?

I'm gonna take this as an add-on to the would you rather game from before, so the answers will be super self-indulgent, and yandere.

Short answer is I would prefer to end up with none of the yanderes, at least not the jojo's. But in terms of damage, I suppose Jonathan is the safest, and Giorno is the worst. It should be Jolyne because Stone Ocean is more dangerous, but Giorno skeeves me out more. Jolynes only so low because everyone around her would instakill me.

+++++++++++++++++

Jonathan is a milk toast of a man. He's unthreatening, because of his noble code. If I got isekai'd, the worst Johnathan could possibly do to me is just have me associated with him, because Dio would fuck me up just to mess with him. In which case, I'd either have to avoid Jonathan so hard Dio can't target me, or I'd have to glue myself to his side so he could protect me from Dio. Which would be what feeds into his tendencies, but they're not really dangerous, so I suppose I'll just have to suck it up.

Joseph is funny and charming, and in earlier parts, he's cunning and witty. He leans heavily into the bad boy heartbreaker persona, so the idea that he's going to be possessive of his partner wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. And all of these would make him the match if it weren't offset by the cheating. How Suzie didn't kill him, I don't know. Her patience is infinite. I, on the other hand, would kill us both. Until then, he wouldn't be too bad.

Jotaro and I would fight way too much. He only wants to talk about his interests, and I can't shut up about my interests, and there is zero overlap between the two. There are only so many times I can endure a Clint Eastwood marathon, and there are only so many minutes he'll let me talk about pinnipeds or linguistics. I couldn't care less about the actual crimes he commits, but the clash of interests would be what makes him the (second) most unbearable.

Josuke has never faced long-term interpersonal consequences to his actions, which means that he'll be genuinely surprised if I stay mad at him after a fight. He nearly beat Okuyasu to death and they're best friends. He punched a hole through his mom and never got in trouble. So why am I still mad at him a week after a verbal fight that didn't even get violent? The world will never know (I will tell him every day, he just doesn't want to hear it). The only reason I wouldn't try to piss him off too much, like saying I got isekai'd and I can't stay in Morioh, is because I've seen Angelo. I choose to not be a fucked up rock Josuke does shameful things with.

Giorno is fucking creepy if you don't hear his internal monologues; which if isekai'd, I wouldn't be able to. I'm with Abbacchio on this, I don't trust this motherfucker. He just stares as people get injured in front of him, and waits until the last possible second to help them, and he's so obviously scheming behind those eyes. I would avoid him like the plague, even if I somehow got involved with the mafia. He's just so... Weird. And calculating. Giorno isn't the only smart jojo, but he is the most intimidating for his intelligence. The vibes are just so rancid on him... I'm throwing myself into the Tiber before I enter this narrative.

Jolyne is a puzzle. I'm not sure what I'd do if I got isekai'd... Do I avoid her and avoid the ire of Anasui, or get my ass beat by the enemy stand users literally everywhere? Not to mention the regular people who just happen to be in a supermax, who will probably prey on me for being an easy target. I'd be totally lost in terms of what to do. At least with the others, there's a hope of escape, or playing my cards right to utilize them. But I don't think there is a good strategy with Jolyne except carefully slotting myself in the toxic friendzone, and hoping for the best. At least it shouldn't be impossible to do.

[sunshinediaz]

2023 fic writing review

rules and tags below the cut because phew, it got long!

rules: feel free to show whatever stats you have. only want to show ao3 stats? rock on. want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? please do this. want to change how yours is presented? absolutely do that.

words and fics

words: 237, 627

most recent: the house i built is burning, where eddie and buck's house burns down, oops

longest fic: technically this, but it's actually deck the halls (and your in-laws), where the diaz and buckley parents show up to spend christmas with the boys, oh my

shortest fic: i love you best when you're just yourself, where buck's in his head about picking out a christmas tree

favorite fic: tied between the dinosaurs smelled magnolias, where eddie proposes to buck with his dick inside buck, and but i've got my teeth in you, where buck gets a tooth knocked out and eddie is Normal about it

most kudos: the side effects of eating too many clementines, where eddie realizes he's in love with buck over oranges in his kitchen

least kudos: mississsippi, where eddie and buck indulge in piss play

events

bad things happen bingo, round one

upcoming events and projects for the new year

finish hoa eddie, who's halfway done at 33k

continue to work on my bad things happen bingo card

clementines smut

5+1(+1) fic where eddie asks buck to marry him

wildfire fic

soft dom eddie series

eddie and buck post-lightning strike

bobby nash's guide to surviving evan buckley and eddie diaz

backdraft au

bullrider buck and rodeo clown eddie au

alpha/alpha buck and eddie

911angstinautumn?

spur of the moment fics i'm sure will wiggle in my brain

achievements

published 20 fics for buck/eddie in 7 months which is so fucking cool

met a lot of really cool people (TENTOESDOWN will live in infamy)

wrote over 50k in the month of december because i decided to challenge myself, jesus christ

goals

write and publish at least 25 fics

learn to edit pictures

finally rewatch s1

write more fics from buck's pov

(at the sake of being ooey gooey, 2023 has been kind to me in the sense i've figured out my future and fallen back in a fandom that's so fun and fresh and enjoyable i can't get enough of it. lots of that is because of the people i surround myself with, and i'm not going to get every individual person but i love you guys lots and i really, really mean that. can't wait to see what 2024 brings us 🥂)

i was tagged by @hippolotamus, @monsterrae1, @exhuastedpigeon, @wikiangela, @honestlydarkprincess, @theotherbuckley, @jamespearce9-1-1, @jesuisici33, @thewolvesof1998, @callmenewbie, and @devirnis <3

tagging @spagheddiediaz and @jeeyuns because they'll yell at me if i don't

[moonliched]

I really love Y/N's look, what led you to add things like double rows of teeth? What led you to that design? Was there another one design before?

bonks my head against yours like a cat!! thenks :3

i repurposed an old self insert oc i had as a teenager bc i wanted to be self indulgent! some edgy gothic white haired girl with a fringe over one eye lmao😋 i miss her...

their colour palette is pale and greyish as a nod to the grey Y/Ns in this community, their hair is white bc mine used to be white, and their hairstyle is one i used to wear swimming! i was also inspired by futuristic white aesthetics and Suichu Niso underwater modelling shoots.

i pretty much immediately settled on Y/N as they are here including webbed feet and finger scarring, and then built on more alien features later. the 4th image down is actually the first time i drew them. i think i got the idea for the teeth about a month into writing, prior to the first chapter going up. mostly i decide on things by daydreaming a funny or angsty scenario based on their alien heritage, and then seeing if i can work it into the story without it seeming clumsy or overcomplicating matters for myself. i overcomplicate things a lot😅 for example i'm regretting having two suits. and two subs. why did i do that?? lol

there's a scene coming up soon after chapter 12 involving the teeth and Vanessa - that's the scenario that inspired Y/N's lil shark teeth. i was also thinking that if i met a mermaid i would totally want a scale as a souvenir, but what would be the mermaid equivalent? hair? a fingernail makes me shiver. but teeth, when losing a row is a semi-regular affair, would be cool. even humans collect teeth!

i don't have a concrete image in mind yet for the natives of Y/N's home planet, but it's something in the realm of humanoid-fish-person, scaly, they have hair but it's not human-grade. an alien unfamiliar with humanoids would easily mistake them for regular humans (they got four legs and a little round head, right?) whereas humans and the fish people would be very offended to be lumped in together lmao. as a result i got a lot of freedom with what Y/N gets to inherit! their human-ness is bit of a disappointment to their guardian tho, so they don't get the full deck of fishy cards.

this might be tmi, some rambling about MEEE!! at first the evidence of having alien features removed was going to be more drastic - i thought over flippers surgically mutated into human feet, a missing tail, scales laser-removed - but decided against those. i was having a really tough time with my disability and chronic pain, and i wanted to live vicariously through Y/N, so they pass as able-bodied. i can't run or swim anymore so it's nice that they can. i think the missing finger webbing counts as a disability, esp when taking into account their issues with managing the discomfort from the scar tissue, and having to actively maintain their health to avoid the drawbacks that would arise from this kind of amputation. Y/N should be grateful i wanted to cosplay as able-bodied, otherwise they'd be far worse off😌🫰

[yuri-on-cards]

Yuri!!! On Cards: The Final Master Post

And so it concludes. With the work of so many artists and writers from the Yuri on the Web Discord server, working together across time (zones) and space (continents), the full deck has been assembled, both as art and stories. This post will include links to everything.

A big THANK YOU to every artist and writer on this project for participating and letting all us mortals enjoy your wonderful works. It's been such a pleasure to do this project. And thank you to everyone who indulged my dumb idea initially. Me making an entire deck by myself would've been dumb (my poor hand) but with all your help this became such a fun group project where no hands were lost.

A special thanks to Lil for being the co-admin on this project, managing everything AO3 because I am useless at that and being there for me to ping pong ideas and desicions off of. I'm not a very desicive person on my own so I really appreciated having someone to share my thoughts with.

Another special thanks to Nic for also being co-admin assembling the entire deck, including making the frames used on every card and making them look damn good. And also for making all the non-picture cards to complete the project. I bow down to you, bestie.

Also, to any curious tumblrinas who have followed along, thank your for your interest! We're glad you like our silly little ideas. And to any new curious tumblrinas, thank you too! The works in this post are made by many different artists and writers and while they're all made from the same outlines, don't expect one big connected universe with no continuity errors. The reigns for this project were pretty loose and it's all just for fun and we hope you'll have some too.

Further information about the outlines and prompts for this project can be found in the main outline, the artists outline and the writers outline.

And with that said, here's the list of all the works, devided by kingdom and character:

The Kingdom of Spades, Realm of Dreams King Yuuri, Wanderer of Dreams Artwork by Arrow Story by Mair Queen Minako, Tamer of Minds Artwork by Arrow Story by Mair Knight Mari, Protector of Innocence Artwork by Nic Story by Mair Ace of the Kingdom Minami, Soul of Symphony Artwork by Tony

The Kingdom of Hearts, Realm of Desires King Viktor, Reflection of Truth Artwork by Riki Story by Arrow Queen Mila, Driver of Passion Artwork by Gront Hat Story by Lil Knight Michele, Carrier of Pride Artwork by Cami Ace of the Kingdom Christophe, Allure of the Soul Artwork by Tony Story by Tony

The Kingdom of Clubs, Realm of Stories King Phichit, Weaver of Legends Artwork by Riki Story by Bakubro Queens Axel, Lutz and Loop, Keepers of Tales Artwork by [user] Knight Sara, Borrower of Sorrows Artwork by Gront Hat Story by Lil Aces of the Kingdom Phichit's Hamsters, Critters of Song Artwork by vicchan

The Kingdom of Diamonds, Realm of Treasure King Yuri, The Orphan King Artwork by Nightmare Story by Levi Queen Georgi, The Broken Star Artwork by Gront Hat Knight Jean Jaques, The False King Artwork by it is i Story by Levi Ace of the Kingdom Otabek, The Deep Shadow Artwork by Arrow Story by Levi

Assigned to no specific kingdom are the Jokers: Makkachin, Joker of Companionship Artwork by Jasper Story by Arrow Vicchan, Joker of Memory Artwork by David Story by Levi

All of the written works can also be found in the Yuri on Cards AO3 collection.

To finish, I want to reiterate my thanks because WOW, y'all did not disappoint with your commitment, I am floored. I mean, have you seen these works? I have no words, at least not any that would suffice and y'all know I never shut up. Thank you so much for indulging me and doing it so wholeheartedly, I'll love y'all forever.

[riconas]

I am so grateful i found you and your work. Overstimulation is my fav kink and it wasn’t super common among ghost writers, and if it was involved it was minor or a side detail. I constantly find myself rereading everything you write. ❤️❤️❤️

If i could make a request (no pressure ofc) could I get some soft overstimulation? Hard and rough is a staple but soft loving overwhelm is slept on. Or, if you have written something like this, could I be directed to it so I can slurp it up like a man starved?

thank you! i'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff. if you're looking for soft overstim, encore might fit the bill. if you've read that already, here's some mountrain. 🧡

tags: overstimulation, a really mean handjob, and a side of humiliation

“Hey,” Rain murmurs, fingers carding sweetly through his hair. “None of that, now.” 

Mountain opens his mouth. He doesn’t recognise the sound that comes out, but it must amuse Rain, for how his smile widens. Mountain usually likes seeing Rain smile, but these are not usual circumstances.

“None of that,” Rain says again, and Mountain realises—yes, he was pushing Rain’s hand away. How rude of him. 

“Sorry,” he says. Tries to say. He isn’t sure if Rain hears it, what with the way his face is mushed into the side of Rain’s neck, but Rain is lakewater-cool against his feverish back, and Rain’s scent is far too intoxicating for him to tear himself away. 

“That’s alright,” Rain replies, voice light as a summer breeze. “But no more pushing, okay?"

Mountain nods. He certainly won’t be keeping that promise, but he can’t really say no, can he? Belial, he can’t even remember why he pushed Rain away in the first place, can’t remember what in hell compelled him to do such an outrageous thing. 

Then Rain’s fingers close around his cock, and it all comes rushing back. The ache in his thighs. The burn in his gut. The meteor shower inside his head, hammering against his skull.

“Ah-ah,” Rain chides. “You’re squirming again.” 

Mountain whimpers. Rain’s hand isn’t going anywhere, but his dick isn’t getting hard anytime soon. Not after the two orgasms Rain's wrung out of him, after edging him until his thighs went numb. Rain cleaned him up after each one, wiping away the spit and cum with a damp towel, just out of courtesy. If the clock’s right, it hasn’t even been an hour. 

The clock must be slow. 

“Enough,” he slurs. “I can’t—again.” He paws helplessly at Rain’s wrist, too scared to push. “S’too much, Rain, too much—”

“But I’m not done,” Rain says softly. 

Mountain is done. Beyond done, in fact. Done ten times over. But it doesn’t matter, not to Rain. Mountain could beg until his vocal cords give out, and Rain wouldn’t bat an eyelash. It's unfair, truly, that he’s so unaffected when his barest touches are driving Mountain mad. 

Rain kisses the base of his horn, open-mouthed. Warm and wet and so indulgent. Mountain is terribly sensitive there. It’s a shot of pure ecstasy, white-hot electricity sparking down his spine. His hips jerk gracelessly into Rain's fist.

“Please,” he gasps. “Not again.” 

Rain rubs his nose in Mountain’s hair, far too affectionate for how horribly he’s torturing him. “Why not? Does it hurt?”

Mountain nods fervently and squeezes Rain’s arm as hard as he can, because gravity isn’t working anymore, and he’s floating away. His fingers overlap by a good margin, yet he has never felt smaller. Strange, the things Rain does to him. 

“Shame,” Rain murmurs. “Nothing much I can do about that. You’ll just have to bear it, I think.” 

Mountain doesn’t think he can bear it. It’s so confusing how Rain can say such gentle things. Maybe, if he asks really, really nicely—

“You keep squirming,” Rain sighs, fondling his balls. “Come on, darling. You know better than that.” He pinches the head of Mountain’s shrivelled cock, and then, to Mountain’s horror, wraps those nimble fingers around his too-soft length and starts to jack him off. It would be comical if it wasn’t so sad, watching the flaccid length of his dick give like putty under Rain’s unrelenting hand. Mountain feels his cheeks burn. “Look at that. So tiny. It’s like there’s nothing there.”

“Don’t say that,” Mountain begs. 

“But it is tiny.” Rain makes a U shape with his index and thumb, a mere two inches apart, and holds it against Mountain’s poor cock, like he’s measuring it. “See?” 

Of course he sees. Mountain isn’t blind, or stupid. But that doesn’t mean he wants to see, and he closes his eyes to try and shut out the prickle of humiliation. Rain gropes him greedily, determined to wring one more impossible orgasm from his struggling body, and Mountain decides his love for Rain does not outweigh his tolerance for Rain’s cruelty. 

“I can’t cum again,” he cries out. It feels like a confession, like an admittance of failure. He flinches at the stab of shame, at the humiliation bubbling up inside him. Two measly orgasms. As if he doesn't push Rain to three, four on a good day. As if he doesn't wipe Rain's tears away when Rain says those very same words.

But Rain doesn’t scoff or sneer or laugh the way Mountain fears he might. “This isn’t enough?” he enquires, so gentle it gives Mountain whiplash. “Do you need my fingers, too?” He wiggles a hand between them, prodding carelessly at Mountain’s hole, and Mountain jerks away. There has been no prep. “Or do you need my cock?” And he rocks subtly against Mountain’s ass, his erection solid and obvious through his sweatpants.  

Frankly, Mountain doesn’t believe there is anything in the world that could make him cum again. He says as much, though the words are jumbled and borderline nonsensical when they leave his mouth. There is no way Rain understands them. 

“What do you need?” Rain asks, petting his sweat-damp hair. “Tell me. Anything you need, to make you cum again. You can have it.” 

Mountain’s head clears long enough for him to find the words. “Please,” he begs. “Just—stop for a moment, please—”

"That's not an answer. What do you need?”

“Please!” 

Rain sighs. Useless, Mountain thinks in despair. No point in begging when it’s Rain. 

“You know what to say,” Rain whispers, just a tad bit kinder. “You know how to make this stop.” 

Mountain does know what to say. He will not say it. He does not need to lie to himself. 

“I want to,” Mountain hiccups. “I wanna cum but—I can’t. I really want to.” He twists his hips away in a vain attempt to slide his poor cock out of Rain’s fist, but Rain tracks his every movement, and he’s held fast. 

“Try harder,” Rain says patiently. 

Mountain whines in frustration. “I don’t know how.” 

Rain is silent for a moment. His arm tightens lovingly around Mountain’s waist, and Mountain wonders if Rain can feel just how hard he’s trembling. Wonders if he’ll tease him for it. 

“Well, then,” Rain says slowly. “That's a little unfortunate, isn’t it? You’d better figure it out.”

[thiccpersonality]

The Riddled Questions

To paint a (hopefully) quick picture for you, imagine this: the Justice League enjoying a surprisingly peaceful day; The Flash playing cards with Black Canary and Green Arrow, Diana and Barda having an intense training session to bond over their warrior-like upbringings, HawkGirl and Green Lantern (John Stewart) chilling in a corner trying to act like they aren't flirting even though everyone can see it and other League members just chatting or enjoying various fun activities on the Watch Tower.

Heck! Even Batman is oddly relaxed (all things considered), his head actually turned away from the monitors to indulge in his hushed conversation with Superman. Whatever they are talking about is causing the big ol' bat to smirk, and dare I say, chuckle.

However, no matter how much the heroes are enjoying the peace, crime is still crime and evil is still evil. It's at those dreaded big, bold, bright red words flashing "CODE ASYLUM" that breaks the peaceful atmosphere, Batman immediately clicking away on the monitors to show how every single Arkham Asylum patient has escaped and are causing havoc in Gotham (some even having managed to flee out of the smoggy city).

Long story short: the Justice League insisted on helping Batman, split up into groups or individually to take care of a specific criminal or villain.

Which is how we get to the present. The Question executing his mission of tracking The Riddler down and bringing him back to Arkham...the issue with this of course is the fact that a man who's whole persona is questioning life is tasked with bringing down a man who's whole identity is asking questions in the form of riddles, I mean, how else did you think this situation would turn out?

The Riddler curses as he's pushed into a corner by Question, the man scoffing and standing straight while spinning his question mark shaped cane around. "Okay, so you've got me in a corner...but riddle me this-"

The Question: *clicks his tongue and places his right hand up to his chin as if he's thinking deeply about something* "Why do you riddle?"

The Riddler pauses and stares at the mysterious-some might say questionable-man as if he's stupid: "Really? Maybe because I'm THE RIDDLER. Why the crap do you question me?"

The Question hums once again: "Because someone needs to ask the important questions, you won't find answers to the questions in question if you never ask. Why are you questioning me about questioning you?"

The Riddler huffs impatiently: "Because you questioned me about questioning you about questioning me, that's why. And why are you here anyway...where is Batman?"

The Question: "Why am I here? Hm...that is a question I often ask myself, what reason am I here for? Is asking questions all I'm meant to do? What about you? Is asking riddles all you are meant for?"

The Riddler: "Wh-huh!? How are you turning these questions back onto me!?"

The Question: "Why do you assume I'm trying to turn things onto you?"

The Riddler: "Why are you assuming I'm assuming things? Don't you think that's a bit rude?"

The Question: "Who knows? Do I think at all? Maybe...maybe not. I want to know why you assume that I'm assuming things about you when in fact I'm not assuming, I'm just stating the obvious based off of the response you gave me. Why do you assume I'm rude because of that?"

The Riddler: "Why are you assuming that I'm assuming you are inherently rude because of my statement? I have not outright said you were rude, I said your questioning sounded a bit rude not you."

The Question: "But when one says that about a person, even just their speech, does it not cause that person to automatically assume you are talking about them as a person? Just as how you assumed I was turning these questions back onto you."

The Riddler: "By you saying "does it not cause that person to assume you are talking about them" is that not you confessing to assuming and also proving you are turning these questions back onto me by questioning me back? Which is the exact assumption I made earlier, so I was right in my assumption of you assuming things of me."

The Question: "But if you don't want more questions asked of you, why do you keep responding to me with questions as well? I'm not the only one at fault here."

The Riddler's eyebrow twitches in agitation at this repeating game...but he can't help but to respond: "I'm supposed to not answer you back? Is it not polite to answer back when someone responds? And who said I don't want questions asked of me?"

The Riddler can't really see Question's face...but his voice sounds dry and sarcastic when he responds: "No one said it. I posed it as a question and not a statement, I never outright said you didn't not want to be asked questions, I was just questioning you on why you keep responding IF you don't like my questions. I didn't ask you that thinking you didn't enjoy them, it's all hypothetical."

The Riddler: "Why is it hypothetical?"

A smile is heard in The Question's voice: "Ah, now you are the one turning my questions back on me. Does that not seem hypocritical to complain about me doing it and then doing it yourself?"

The Riddler just glares at The Question for a hot minute before crossing his arms like a sulking child: "Well I'm evil and you aren't. I'm allowed to be hypocritical because there's no hope for me."

The Question tilts his head curiously: "Why is there no hope for you?"

Riddler opens his mouth to answer before closing it again, humming and squinting in thought: "Well...society seems to think so, do they not? If a group of people agree on it...then it must be true."

The Question crosses his arms: "And if a group of those same people jumped off a bridge, would you? Why do you follow society?"

The Riddler bristles at the question: "I do not! I'm evil. That isn't like normal people!"

The Question: "What defines normal to you?"

The Riddler groans and scratches his head: "Not harming people, for one. Maybe not being uncaring towards others and causing harm wherever and whenever you can!"

The Question: "But those people you sometimes hurt are the ones that see you as a freak, are they not? I'm sure those comments hurt you a great deal deep down. And "normal" people still hurt people, that is inevitable, it's if you keep doing it that matters...right?"

The Riddler quickly nods in agreement: "Yes! And I keep on hurting people, so I am not normal."

The Question nods: "Yes, so you have said. But why do you keep doing it?"

The Riddler snaps and barks out at the other man agitated: "Because I'm not normal! I told you that people have told me I'm evil because I am!"

The Question: "Ah...people...such fickle beings we are. Did you not just tell me that you didn't conform to society? But most of your reasoning for hurting people and continuing to do so is based off of societal standards of you, is it not? I have to ask: are you hurting people because you truly want to or have you been led to believe there's no hope because the "normal" people you look at won't extend that to you? No doubt you have issues, but are you truly unsaveable?"

The Riddler feels like his mind goes blank, what does this mean? Is he conformed to society already? Has he been like the others all this time in thinking he was different?

At the stunned silence of the man, The Question smiles behind his mask at wearing the other down, steps forward and gently leads the man out of his corner and back to an Arkham police van.

At the sight of The Question and The Riddler, The Flash runs up while rubbing his head: "We heard you through the comms. I have a headache from all those questions...why didn't you just fight him? Wouldn't it have been faster?"

Question hands over The Riddler and turns to the speedster: "I thought you were tired of the questions yet you ask me some?"

The mysterious man turns to look at the van driving away while placing a hand on the Flash's shoulder: "Is the easiest and quickest path always the wisest to choose? I think slow and steady has won this race my friend."

(Look...idk what random post/writing this is? I'm not expecting this to be good because I wrote this very randomly lol, with the thought of what would happen if two question asking people interacted. I started out with it being silly and somehow got...deep?...about it towards the end. And if no one could tell, Questions last question to Flash was supposed to mean he didn't want to fight an essentially confused man that day (he wouldn't mind fighting him any other time I'm sure lol), he already has too much on his mind so why not provide that hope he's so often denied by society in the form of long-winded questions...or something like that 😂.

You all please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[atropalugosi]

Honestly ghouls, this one is just completely self indulgent trying to make myself feel better. But enjoy nonetheless Donna stans <3

Donna felt almost like a wolf stalking a small animal as she watched Valeria work, but she simply couldn't help herself. Well, surely she could, but it was more fun to look at the college student, especially at the moment. The flower shop was on the warmer side today, and the girl had opted to rolling up the sleeves of her blouse in an attempt to cool off, giving Donna a lovely glimpse of black ink on her right arm. She couldn't quite make out what the image was across the shop, but it looked intricate despite the heavy lines of the tattoo.

"Do you have any?" Valeria's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, startling Donna with a little jump. The girl fights a smile at catching her boss off guard before continuing, "tattoos I mean?"

"I'm afraid not," the botanist replies, patting herself down a bit to regain composure. "Do you have any more?"

"Nope, just this at the moment," she outstretches her forearm for Donna to get a better look. "I'd like to get some more eventually though! I've got a bunch of ideas, I've even drawn some out if you'd wanna see sometime. Thinking about maybe getting a floral piece done for you...'re shop!"

Donna steps closer and gently takes her arm, inspecting the black and grey design. It takes up Valeria's entire inner forearm, running from just below the prominent blue veins of her wrist up to her inner elbow. The entire image is bordered by ferns and inside the foliage stands a woman gently holding a roaring lion. Two sabers cross above the characters with 'VIII' scratched slightly to the right of the swords. She runs her fingers featherlight over the tattoo, surprised when it feels more or less like her unmarred skin, save for a few bumpy scars.

"I, uh, I picked at those spots," Valeria murmurs as though she'd been scolded particularly harshly. Donna noticed the redhead often picked at scabs and blemishes when her hands weren't preoccupied.

"That's alright, scars are a beautiful map of a person's life." That earns her a cute blush and sheepish smile. "It's truly a lovely piece though, really. Does it have any special meaning?"

Valeria's smile drops a bit at the question, but she speaks clearly. "It's a tarot card called 'Strength'. I've had... kind of a rough go of things before moving here and I guess I just got it as a reminder that I'm going to be okay and I'm strong. Even when I don't feel like it." She turns away slightly, looking like she's trying not to cry at whatever memories the design inspires.

Donna's heart aches seeing her like this and she bravely makes the decision to wrap the redhead in a strong hug. Her efforts are reciprocated instantly, and she nearly breaks feeling the girl tremble in her arms. Valeria was indeed an example of La Forza all her own, but Donna couldn't help but want to be an equally strong support for her, like she'd done for the botanist on the anniversary of Claudia's death. Nobody deserved to feel that way alone. Not even herself, she supposed.

"I've got you, dolcézza. Whatever you need, let it out," she tells Valeria soothingly. She rubs relaxing circles in her back while the girl cries, whispering words of encouragement until she finally calms down. Eventually the two part, Valeria sniffling pitifully and rubbing her eyes of tears.

"I'm sorry for that," she croaks miserably.

"No need, Valeria," Donna's tone leaves no room for argument. "Whatever it is that you've gone through; whatever you might be faced with in the future, you are strong, and you will beat it. But you don't have to do it alone. Let me be there for you like you are for me."

Enamoured. Valeria looks completely and utterly enamoured, and Donna fights tooth and nail with herself not to squirm at the watery brown eyes staring at her like a saint. God knows she was far from it. Still it makes her feel infinitely further from Miranda to be looked at like that.

"Thank you, Donna."

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Prompt: "We both kinda escaped the same party and there's only one place to effectively hide from everyone else, I'm sorry but could I please hide in this stupidly claustrophobic spot for just one minute, my heels are killing me?" AU

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 3,600

Trigger warning: Partying, alcohol use, drug use.

Author's Note: Happy New Years! Are all of my fics holiday themed now? See ya on Valentine's Day, I guess. Also, I was torn between writing this for Eddie or writing this for Argyle, but I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to nail the dialogue with Argyle- I need to study his character more (aka watch vol. 4 again). I really hope that you enjoy this 100% self-indulgent, steaming pile of crap.

It was Robin's fault, truly.

Steve had originally asked her to go with him to Tina's party, but she wasn't able to get out of work. You already had plans with your mother, a few VHS tapes, and a giant bowl of popcorn, but Steve promised that he would make it up to you in some way, and having something to hold over him was enough to make you reconsider.

Still, you already felt out of place as you sat in Steve's passenger seat picking at the hem of your skirt while he fixed his hair in his rearview mirror. You weren't a huge fan of parties, never had been, especially parties where you didn't drive yourself and therefore could not leave on your own accord unless you wanted to walk a few miles in freezing temperatures.

Steve promised he'd have you home at a decent time, but it was New Year's Eve, and you knew that 'decent time' wouldn't be until at least after the ball dropped. His main objective was Kimberly Kline; a former varsity cheerleader who graduated at the top of her class and the mayor's daughter. According to your best friend, Kimberly had asked him if he was going to the party when she was checking out at the Family Video last week. Steve obviously took that as an invitation, despite not actually being invited.

You were just there as a buffer, in case things between him and Kimberly didn't work out. If they did, you were on your own.

"Your hair looks fine, Steve." You mentioned as he carded his fingers through his silky, brunette locks for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "My head doesn't look too square?"

You sighed and turned to face him. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but your head has always been and will always be square."

His shoulders dropped as he flipped the visor up and pulled the keys from the ignition. "You know what? That's just great. Thank you, Y/N. Way to boost my confidence."

You pursed your lips to keep yourself from laughing. He rolled his eyes and began mumbling to himself as he climbed out of the burgundy vehicle and shut the door behind him. You let out a chuckle as he dramatically marched off toward Tina's house, leaving you to follow.

"Honestly, Y/N," Steve turned back to you sharply and put his hands on his hips. "I was hoping you'd, I don't know, hype me up and make me feel good about myself. I'm already nervous!"

"Clearly," you laughed as you joined him at his side. "Look, Steve," you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder. "Kimberly Kline would be totally bonkers to not want to hook up with you. So stop worrying about how you look! If that's all she cares about then you're better off honestly."

Steve looked at you sheepishly with a small blush growing on his cheeks. "Thanks, Y/N."

Before you could say anything, an old, white van sped around the corner past the two of you; tires screeching on the asphalt, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes in its wake. You could hear Iron Maiden blaring as the driver came to a hard stop in Tina's front yard, knocking over a large plastic snowman. You rolled your eyes as Eddie Munson slid out of the driver's seat and took a long drag off of the cigarette hanging from his mouth; a bright cloud of smoke hanging in the air as he exhaled.

"What a jerk," Steve mentioned, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Who? Eddie?" You asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "He thinks he's so cool."

"You know, people used to think that about you," You teased, giving Steve's shoulder a little shove as you began walking towards the party.

It didn't take long before you were standing in Tina's kitchen with a plastic cup in your hand. Your head absentmindedly bobbing to the loud pop music playing through the stereo in the living room. The New Year's Eve special was playing on the television but you wouldn't have been able to hear it. Steve had already spotted Kimberly and had downed two drinks before building up the courage to go over and talk to her.

You were leaning up against the counter, making small talk with a girl that had been in the drama club with you for a few years; catching up, talking about work and college, the usual. Steve was on the couch with his arm around Kimberly, talking animatedly with his hands, and she was smiling. He caught eyes with you for a moment and gave you a quick head nod to let you know that things were going well.

A guy you didn't recognize was aggressively making eye contact from his place in the dining room. You looked for a quick exit, knowing that at any moment he would shove himself off of the wall and stagger over to you. Excusing yourself, you tried to make your way towards Steve but were blocked off by a keg-stand in progress. You peered through the party-goers and noticed the guy was just stepping into the kitchen, ducking your head, you didn't have many options other than out the back door or a random door to your left. Wanting to avoid what would absolutely be the most awkward encounter of your life, you slipped through the closest door hoping the stranger didn't notice.

After a few moments, you considered yourself safe and turned to see that you were standing in Tina's pantry, and there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bag of Doritos in his hand, was Eddie Munson; mouth slightly agape, eyes wide.

"Shit," you blurted. "I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing in here." You went to turn and leave, your hand was hovering over the doorknob, but the thought of the creep on the other side made you hesitate. "Actually, do you mind if I hang out in here with you for a minute? I'm trying to avoid some weirdo who apparently was never taught that staring is rude."

Immediately, Eddie's eyes shifted to the floor. "Uh, sure." He replied. You sighed in relief. "Unless you just want me to go out there and kick his ass."

You laughed and sat with your back against the wall opposite him. "I appreciate the offer, but kicking off the new year with an assault charge is probably not a good idea." Eddie smiled in reply and the pantry fell silent. "So what is Eddie fucking Munson doing sitting in Tina Burton's pantry?"

He looked up at you through thick, curly bangs and shrugged. "Came here to do a deal," he motioned to his little black box that you had seen a few times before. "But not really feeling the atmosphere," he drew out. "Too many jocks."

"Isn't that your van parked out front?" You asked, he nodded. "You can always leave."

"Suppose I could," he replied. "But then you'd be stuck in this pantry by yourself with a creep on the loose."

"You'd rather stay here at this lame party, despite the fact that you are completely miserable, for me?" His dark chocolate eyes connected with yours for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was shy. "You flatter me, Mr. Munson."

"What about you?" He asked, turning the tables. "You never really struck me as a party girl. I'm sure you came here with someone."

"I did, yeah, I came with Steve." You replied reaching over and grabbing a handful of Doritos from the bag Eddie was holding.

"Steve?" Eddie asked, his brows raised. "Harrington?" You nodded as you shoved chips into your mouth. "Let me guess, you were supposed to be his date but it didn't work out?"

You almost choked. "No! God, no." Eddie's eyes were probing you for an explanation but you were also hurriedly trying to swallow what was in your mouth before you began talking. "He's trying to get laid, and for fuck's sake, I hope he does. He has been such a little brat lately." Eddie laughed. "I'm his shoulder to cry on in case things don't work out for him."

"Hard to imagine that something wouldn't work out for Steve "The Hair" Harrington," Eddie replied almost critically. He flipped open his little box and pulled out a small, metal tin before producing a pre-rolled joint. Your eyes widened as he stuck it between his lips and pulled a lighter our of his pocket. "What?"

"In here?" You asked.

"You afraid we're going to get in trouble, Y/L/N?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction before lighting the end of the homemade cigarette. Eddie took a long drag and inhaled the smoke into his lungs and held it for a few moments before exhaling with a loud cough.

"Well, yeah," you replied but still took the joint from Eddie's fingers when he offered it to you. The smoke burned your chest as you inhaled, you couldn't help but cough, choking on the skunky taste before passing the joint back to him.

"You're adorable," he laughed and you immediately pouted. "Yep, that look right there. Let me just-" Eddie placed the burning joint between his lips and held his fingers up in front of his face to mimic a camera, pressing the invisible button with a click sound. "Commit that to my memory." You shook your head and giggled at his antics. "That one, too." He added, clicking his invisible camera, once more.

Sitting here, in the floor of Tina's pantry, you wondered why you hadn't hung out with him more than just the occasional drug deal. You had started buying pot from Eddie in your junior year when his band started practicing in Gareth Emerson's garage, but you had never actually hung out with him outside of that. You'd stay and watch them practice a few songs, but that was about it.

"So do you have any new year's resolutions?" You asked him after taking another hit, not wanting the conversation to die.

"Yeah, graduating," he replied as he sunk back against the wall.

"Any plans on what you're going to do after that?"

"What like college?" He asked taking one last hit before disposing of the smoldering joint in an empty can of beer, you nodded. "I don't really think I'm the college type. Besides, there's no degree for what I want to do."

"So you're going to hit the road?" You asked, "take Corroded Coffin on tour and sell out stadiums?"

"That's the dream," He replied and immediately frowned. "More like a fantasy, really."

"It's not." You reassured him. "There'll be thousands in the crowd screaming your name one day, and I'll be one of them. If I had a permanent marker I'd ask for your autograph now before you get too famous and eventually sell out."

"Never!" He laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." You teased.

"What about you?" He asked in return. "Any new years plans?"

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. You hadn't really given much thought to the new year and you weren't the type to make any resolutions. After all, you lived in Hawkins, Indiana, a place where people didn't really make plans or have any goals outside of settling down and moving up in whatever dead-end job they were working. Every year you'd hear the same shit; "I want to lose ten pounds", "I'm going to stop smoking", "I plan to be more active", or "I'd like to read more books". They'd start off strong, but before January was even over, they'll forget they even set a goal to begin with.

Eddie had lit another joint, waiting for your response but there wouldn't be one. A silence made itself comfortable between the two of you. You could see Eddie was about to say something else, but outside of the pantry, the countdown was beginning; the last few moments of 1985. If you were to make a resolution, now would be the time to do it.

"Ten, nine-"

"We should kiss," you mentioned with a shrug of your shoulders, deciding that your resolution would be to take risks. "Wouldn't want to ruin the tradition."

"Seven, six-"

"What?" He asked, almost choking on the smoke he inhaled from the joint wedged between his fingers. His brows merged together as he coughed.

"Four, three, two-"

"I mean we don't have to," you answered, knowing that he had heard you the first time.

"Happy New Year!"

Eddie paused for just a moment, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him for a firm kiss. Before you had the chance to fully reciprocate, he pulled away; his eyes searching your features for any sign that he should stop- or continue. Without any hesitation, you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled him back to you, the kiss deeper this time. His lips were hot against yours as his fingers curled into the roots of your hair. Your tongue tangled with his in an eloquent dance that felt so familiar yet brand new.

You pulled away to catch your breath and looked up into his deep brown eyes which were full-blown with lust as he grabbed for you to come closer. Every few moments you'd giggle and he'd smile as you tried to navigate the positioning of your bodies in the small pantry, but your lips still made their way back to each other. His hands pushed your jacket down your shoulders as his lips left a trail of kisses along your neck. You moved to straddle his lap, desperate to be closer to him, but in the move your head collided with the shelf above, sending a couple bags of chips into Eddie's lap instead.

He couldn't help but laugh; his full pink lips stretched into a smile as he took your face in his hands. "You okay, there?"

"Ow," you winced as you rubbed a hand over your head.

"Let me see," he cooed and you tilted your head down to him. He placed a soft kiss on your tender scalp. "All better?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "Just ruined the moment, is all."

Eddie, with your face still in his gentle but calloused hands, placed a lingering kiss on your pouted lips. "You didn't ruin anything," He said softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Besides, we should probably get out of here."

It was hard not to notice the dirty looks on the faces of your peers as you and Eddie emerged from the pantry; some of them even pointed as they whispered to each other.

"Do you see Steve?" You yelled at Eddie over the music. "I should probably let him know I'm leaving!"

He scoured the crowd and shook his head. "Maybe things worked out for him!"

"Maybe!" You shrugged and made your way towards the front door; weaving in and out of the sweaty, drunken bodies. Eddie's hand was in yours so as to not get separated from you as he followed behind.

The air was brisk as you stepped out onto Tina's front porch, clearing your foggy mind the second you took a deep breath. You shivered as Eddie stepped in front of you, leading you to his van.

"Your chariot awaits, madam." He said, offering to open the passenger side door for you.

"Wait, one second!" You quickly dashed over to where Eddie had knocked over Tina's decorative snowman and sat him upright. "What, you hit Frosty!" You exclaimed.

Eddie just laughed and shook his head before quickly scrambling around to the driver's side and hopping in. He shoved his keys into the ignition and turned the heat on full blast. "Don't worry, she heats up pretty fast."

As Eddie backed out of Tina's yard you noticed Steve's car was no longer where he had parked it when you first arrived. You hoped that Steve didn't leave alone, and also that he didn't leave without at least looking for you first. Given that you were hiding out in the pantry for most of the night, you gave him the benefit of the doubt that if he had known where you were, he would have given you the heads up.

The drive back to your place was mostly quiet, save for the music coming from Eddie's radio. He had the volume turned low and his window was cracked as he smoked a cigarette.

"May I?" You asked, motioning towards the cardboard box of cassette tapes that sat on the floorboard between the seats.

"Go for it," he replied as he slowed to a stop at a red light. "Find something to put on." He ejected his Iron Maiden cassette and placed it back in its plastic case, giving you free rein to choose whatever you wanted.

You rummaged through Eddie's music selection, marveling at his taste. He had everything from metal to punk, the classics, and- "Hall and Oates?" You asked, almost teasing him.

"What's wrong with Hall and Oates?" He asked, snatching the tape from your hands. "Kiss On My List? You Make My Dreams Come True? Can't help but love 'em, they're catchy."

"I completely agree," you replied, still shifting through the box. "I'm just surprised is all, would have thought that there wasn't enough guitar for you."

"It's not always about the guitar!"

You picked out Bruce Springsteen and gently pushed the tape into the cassette player. Eddie nodded in approval as he began humming along to the melody. The blue lights on the dashboard illuminated his soft features, making you realize how beautiful he really was. A small smile pulled at your lips as your eyes took in the sight of him, wondering how you never saw it before.

"You're staring," he taunted, stealing a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road.

"I'm sorry," you laughed but didn't take your eyes off of him. "I just- I never realized how beautiful you are."

"You think I'm beautiful?" He asked, placing a hand over his heart and batting his eyelashes at you.

"And silly," you giggled. "But, yes."

Eddie shook his head in response, unable to hold back his smile. "You know, I had the biggest crush on you in school."

"You did not!" You gasped.

"I totally did!" He replied. "It was bad. I would take the long way to class just so that I could walk past your locker. Man, those days after school when you'd come over to Gareth's to buy some weed and you'd hang out and listen to our band- fuck!" He was shaking his head; beautiful brunette curls bouncing on his shoulders.

"I had no idea," you replied. "You were always so quiet, I thought you didn't like me."

"You thought I- what? Didn't like you!?" He exclaimed. "Come on! How could any guy not like you? You're so fucking funny! Plus, you're like actually a good person. You're compassionate and kind and smart as Hell."

"Why tell me now?" You asked as your heart skipped beats.

"I don't know, it's New Years, why not?" He answered. "Why'd you ask me to kiss you back at Tina's?"

You shrugged, "because it's New Years, why not?" Eddie smiled at your response as he pulled up to the curb of your house. You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, "I'd offer for you to come in, but I know my mom is waiting up for me."

"That's okay," he replied softly. "I really want to kiss you again."

"Yeah?" You bit your lip under his gaze.

"Mhm," he hummed.

Eddie leaned in to place his lips on yours one more time. It was slow and sweet; soft, like the glow of his headlights reflecting on the flurries of snow falling from the dark, midnight sky. You would have never thought that this night would have ended this way, but you were so thankful that it did. You weren't sure what 1986 had in store for you, but you were determined to make sure that Eddie was a part of it.

"I appreciate the ride home," you said barely above a whisper as you pulled away. "I should probably get inside, I bet-" you turned to look at your house and saw your mother's figure at the window. "Yep, she's watching."

Eddie chuckled and climbed out of the van. You smiled as he rounded the hood of the vehicle to open the passenger door for you. "Let's not keep her waiting." You slid out of his van and gave him a hug before heading up your driveway. "Maybe I'll see you are Gareth's or something?"

"Or," you turned back to him. "Maybe you'll see me at that new pizza place that just opened up? Maybe around 7:00 on Friday?"

"It's a date," he called to you as he brought his hands up to his face in the shape of a camera one last time, taking a mental photo of you before the night ended.

[idekforfun]

Comfort ... JJk

Summary: After scoring an invite to JHope's album release party, Yazmine isn't expecting anything more than to stick to the sidelines and enjoy the free drinks and music. Little did she know what her ever growing relationship with the rapper would lead her to.

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, strangers to lovers, ongoing series

Word count: 2.7k

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The only thing I am able to think of as my eyes scatter across the room of popular faces is "the amount of talent in this room is enough to swallow me whole". I’m overwhelmed with anxiety and I can't seem to remember how I was ever able to suppress it. I'm finding it increasingly hard to hide behind my extrovert persona, the one that is a lie, a huge lie in fact.

 I realized I had been lost in my head when the sound of loud clapping brought me back to the real world. I barely catch the very end of Hoseok's speech, something along the lines of "Thank you for supporting me", and "enjoy the food and music" then he gives a bow and walks down the stairs where he is immediately pulled into conversation. Oh, I can't even imagine the anxiety he must be feeling. I could simply stick to a corner and hide in the shadows, whereas he has to socialize with everyone out of obligation.

Socializing. For some reason I forgot that I'd have to do that. I've been able to avoid it thus-far having arrived minutes before the actual album started playing. Now, everywhere I looked someone was talking to someone else. I realized I couldn't just stand here alone forever. I examine the room for someone I know, even better someone I have interviewed because I'll take any familiarity I can at this point. This whole ordeal is making me question my job because how am I able to meet celebrities on the daily, and here I am stressing about having to socialize at a party.

I was too in my head again, so I didn't realize someone had been calling my name until I felt a few taps on my shoulder. When I turn around, I was met with no other than Jessi, thank god. We have met on more than one occasion, and she has a weird ability of making people extremely comfortable, something I am immensely thankful for right now.

"Yaz!" She pulls me into a hug. It actually does well to soothe me. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I didn't know either," I pulled back from the hug with a gentle smile. "Actually, I was kind of surprised."

"Why, are you and J-hope not close?" she questioned.

"I mean, I had him on the show and we got on really well. We've also messaged a lot, too." I know I sound hesitant speaking, as if I'm not sure of the words I am saying. It is kind of hard to believe that Hoseok would want a friendship with me of all people, let alone be close.

"Oh, he definitely adores you, we even talked about you once," she has a sparkle in her eye as she talks and for some reason, I feel obliged to believe her. "Also, he was one of the best episodes on your show by far."

She is right about that. It has been my most viewed interview by a pretty wide margin. Part of me knows it’s due to the fact that he is J-hope of BTS, obviously, but it was also such a good video. All my interviews follow a simple formula. I bring the guest on and we engage in whatever activity they enjoy, in Hoseok’s case dancing. It brings a different level of intimacy that you can’t get from simply sitting across from one another and reading questions from a card. The conversation always flows naturally, and it’s all so genuine. On top of that, even I can admit that Hoseok and I just clicked. Our personalities complimented each other well. So much that we even continued to develop our relationship through messaging, and now I am attending his album release party which is a very important step in his solo career. Maybe we are closer than I allowed myself to believe.

“Yeah, it was pretty great actually.” I could see her eyes light up at my slight self-indulgence. Maybe I should give myself more credit.

We both turn our heads at the call of Jessi’s name from across the room. She gives me another smile and hug and tells me that she’ll find me later. I am left alone again but it’s not as bad as before. The anxiety has decreased significantly, which made my apparent hunger more noticeable. Hoseok did say to enjoy the food so I might as well. The snack table was filled with delicious finger food. As I was reaching my hand to grab a bite of some expensive looking cheese on a toothpick someone called my name. I turned around to find none other than Hoseok’s bright smile.

“So, I see you made it!” He pulled me into a hug. Not the ‘barely touch you because this is a little uncomfortable hug”, but a “I feel like we’ve known each other for years hug’.

“Hoseok, you’re incredible. The album is amazing, the release party is amazing, your outfit is amazing!” We pulled away from the hug and I could see a feint blush on his cheeks hidden well in the dimly lit room. “I’m serious, you may be the coolest person I know.”

“Yahhh, you’re boosting my ego too much.” He said while smiling shyly.

“You also may be the humblest person I know so I actually don’t think that is possible.” He smiled at me again and I swear I saw a glimpse of the actual sun in him.

“Do you know anyone here?”

“A few people, mostly through the grapevine.” He could sense my hesitancy right away, I could tell.          

“Come, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” He said as he gestured to the general direction behind him where his so-called friends were. Knowing him, his friends could be some ultra-famous idols that have better things to do than interacting with me. I could slowly feel the anxiety creep back up my spine, and my heartbeat slowly increased.

“I don’t really want to be a bother,” he looked down at me with squinted eyes and a tilted head. “I promise it’s okay, I like being alone and these appetizers are calling my name.”

He chuckled at me in disbelief, as if that was an insane thing to say in a room full of celebrities. I guess you could say a part of me is forgetting that they are just normal people too, so I shouldn’t be feeling this intimidated by them. At the same time, I’ve seen celebrities get starstruck over other celebrities, so they really aren’t just normal people and I am going to tell myself that my feelings are valid.

“C’mon, you’re never a bother. You’re my friend and I want my friends to meet you” he said reassuringly. I guess that answers my earlier internal debate. After 2 seconds of contemplation, I let myself believe him, and I signaled for him to lead the way. He lit up and tugged on my wrist so I could follow him.

I don’t know who I was expecting him to introduce me to, but for some reason his members stupidly did not come to mind. Three of the seven members of BTS were sitting on the stage together, and their heads all turned to Hoseok and I as we approached them. Despite all my inner turmoil, I take pride in my ability to pretend that I am confident and unfazed by everything. That is how I’ve done so well in my career while dealing with anxiety, but as the three idols studied us as we approached them, I could tell that mainting my persona would be more difficult than usual. I know them of course, because who doesn’t these days, but seeing them in person simply beats videos and pictures. They really were beautiful men.

“Yazmine this is Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook. Guys this is Yazmine.” Hoseok introduced while gesturing to each of them.

“Hi guys its so great to meet you.” I said with a smile. Jungkook and Taehyung who were sitting raised themselves up to give me a bow as well as Jimin who was already standing as I shook my hands at them. “Oh! there’s no need for that we can be casual.”

“Sorry, it’s a habit,” Jimin said with a smile. “After all these years it feels kind of strange not to be formal.”

“That’s how I feel except opposite. Getting used to being formal was a challenge and I sometimes still forget the strict customs.” I explained.

“Sorry if this comes across as rude but you’re not Korean? You’re Korean is really good!” Taehyung questioned.

“It’s not rude at all! I am half Korean from my mom and my dad is middle eastern,” as I was explaining, someone summoned Hoseok over to them and he gave my arm a firm squeeze in parting as he nodded to his members insinuating his departure. “I was raised in the US till age 12 and I’ve been back and forth since then.” I explained as they nodded in understanding. It was endearing how intently they were listening to me, and for some reason I felt oddly at ease with the three. My eyes wandered over to Jungkook’s as I finished my explanation, and as they met he quicky looked away.

“Your interview with Hobi Hyung was amazing by the way,” Jimin said. In the moment I don’t think I even processed that Park Jimin watches my show, I’d have to do that later. “The idea is so new and exciting. I hope that you’ll invite me once I start my solo schedule.” There was a sly smirk on his face. I wondered if it would be inappropriate to tell him I would probably jump off a bus if he asked me to, but I decided to keep that to myself in the end.

“I’ll see what I could do.” I joked back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone new approaching us and I turned my head to find Seokjin. I was now surrounded by four members of the group and I am surprised I’ve held my composure for this long.

“Hello,” he says timidly with a subtle bow. “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to say bye to these three. I’m Jin.”

Just when I thought these men couldn’t get any better, he introduces himself as if I wouldn’t already know who he is. I gave a bow back and smiled at his humility, “I’m Yazmine, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey Jungkook, this must be exciting for you.” At the mention of the youngest members name, I turned to look at him and caught his wide eyes and small headshake towards Jin that I was clearly not meant to see as his eyes shifted to me. “He loves your videos. One time he made me watch three episodes of your trying new things series.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook cried out. Obviously I was not supposed to be filled in on this information, but my heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster at this new discovery.

“Oh, did he now?” I questioned with a smirk. Jungkook’s face twinged a subtle pink that was barely noticeable in the dimly lit room, but noticeable, nonetheless.

“Oh yeah, Jungkookie is always sending us clips from your videos,” Jimin teased. Taehyung started nodding his head enthusiastically and decided he also wanted to join in on teasing the youngest.

“You should have seen his reaction when he found out Hobi Hyung was making an appearance, he was so jeal-”

            “Okay that’s enough.” Jungkook interrupted with an annoyed expression. Despite how much I was enjoying this, I also felt a little bad for him, and I’m sure he’s been at the center of their teasing all these years.

            “Well, I really appreciate the support, and it means a lot coming from you especially.” I reassured him. He gave me a shy small in return.

            “Well it was nice to meet you Yazmine, I am sure we’ll run into each other again,” Jin said with a warm smile. “Before I leave Hobi wants a picture with all of us.” He said while gesturing to the other members. They all nodded in agreement.

            As they all turned to follow Jin, Jimin turned to me and nudged my arm with his. “Don’t go too far, we’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll be here.” I reassured. I definitely wasn’t comfortable enough to talk with anyone else here, and their welcoming energy was definitely more than enough for me. Jimin and Taehyung followed Jin, while I noticed Jungkook lingering a bit. I could tell he had something on his mind that he wanted to say.

            “Isn’t it a bit early for Jin to be leaving?” I questioned. This was my best attempt at making him comfortable enough to tell me what was on his mind.

            “This isn’t really Jin Hyungs scene, he doesn’t really know many people and he gets nervous meeting them too.” Jungkook explained. I almost did not catch the end of what he was saying because I was too distracted by his eyes. They really do sparkle just like everyone says.

            “Wow, if that’s how Jin feels then I really am hopeless.” I said in shock. If a literal bts member was having trouble socializing, I was doomed.

            “Not completely hopeless, you have us now.” He said with the most endearing smile I have ever seen. There was also something about how he said “You have us now”, as if he was insinuating that I would be in their lives longer than just a casual conversation at a party. I know it’s probably my delusion speaking, but it’s a nice thought to comfort me.  “By the way I really do enjoy your videos a lot. I guess it’s kinda embarrassingly obvious now that I am a fan.” He said with a little more confidence while referring to the teasing from his Hyungs.

            “If it makes you feel better, I have 3 older brothers, so I know how it feels. Also, I am slightly embarrassed because of how many stupid things you’ve probably seen me do. It’s actually all coming back now.” I laughed. I started internally second guessing every decision I made for my videos because Jeon fucking Jungkook watches them, and I pray that he has not seen the bird calling video.

            “What, like the bird calling video?” He says with a chuckle. This is not happening right now.

            “I am actually going to ignore what you just said for mental health reasons.” He lets out a boyish laugh at that and I swear I’ve never heard something more adorable in my life. I would honestly embarrass myself 100 times over if it meant that I could make him laugh.

            We both turn our heads at the call of his name and see the members waving him over for the pictures.

            “I’m sorry I don’t want to leave you alone…” He says hesitantly.

            “No, don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll just be here trying not to embarrass myself.”

            “I won’t take long so we can be embarrassing together.” He said in a teasing tone. My eyes couldn’t help but widen. I’m either crazy, or he just flirted with me. I could hear his giggle as he turned to walk away while I stood there stunned. The butterflies in my stomach were going crazy as I watched him join the others. Seeing them interact with each other was so special. They looked so happy and comfortable. It was hard not to be slightly envious of their relationship. I can’t remember the last time I had a connection like that with someone, and I could tell it was rare. My eyes naturally wander over to Jungkook as he wrapped his arm around Hoseok. I could see his eyes glistening even from here with joy and contempt. His eyes meet mine and I find myself unable to look away even though I know I’ve been caught staring. His eyes crinkle at the corners as we look at each other, waiting to see who will break eye contact first. My gaze wanders across his nose and cheeks as my face heats up. I force my eyes to meet his one final time and I turn away with a light feeling looming over me.