#Keens Chop House

[newyorkthegoldenage]

The original caption of this photo, taken April 15, 1926, was:

Working on the theory that their grandmothers enjoyed their pipe and bowl, girls are forming a pipe smokers club and it is yet possible, following this line of thought, that the girls will soon be seen smoking cigars. Among the founders of the club, who met at Keens Chop House on West 44th Street to draft a constitution and bylaws, are Misses Irene Dunne, Irma Marwich, and Lane Blair of the "Sweetheart Time" Co.

Could "Irene Dunne" have been the actress? It's possible—she was appearing on Broadway at the time.

Photo: Bettmann Archive/Getty Images

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hot and Bothered

You like to read spice and Sirius is inspired. shy fem!reader x Sirius Black

cw: pure smut, lowkey evil Sirius (he's sweet but gets too much joy in making her flustered), mention of smut/literary porn, oral sex (r receiving), kinda sorta cum play at the end? swearing

2.8k words

You had known it was risky, really there was no one to blame but yourself. You knew that attempting to keep any secret from Sirius would end in complete failure. In your defense, you had spent a long time reading this book, and you were desperate to finish it.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed like the last about 45% of your book was chalk full of a very specific set of scenes. Ones that you would rather walk into an oncoming stampede than let anyone know you were reading. Still, you brought the book to your boyfriends house to read during the "quiet time' that usually ended up occurring during every hang out. There usually ended up being a stretch of one to two hours where you and your boyfriends just sat in complete silence, comfortable in each others presence. This time, you were lounged on his leather couch, surrounded by his flashy throw pillows. He was nuzzled into your stomach through your sweater as he lay on top of you, letting his fingers freely explore your waist and tummy as the television droned on in the background.

You were holding your book close to your face, occasionally reaching down to scratch his scalp or stroke his face. It was a position familiar to you both, except it began to feel different.

When the scene in your book began to take a turn, you found your stomach knotting itself in arousal. Suddenly Sirius was too close for wholesome comfort, you were all too aware of his proximity to dangerous areas, making you squirm in his grasp. The teasing of his fingers didn't help the situation. You shivered under his hands, wanting to both shrink away and keen towards him at the same time. It didn't seem like he was aware of your predicament, he looked completely naive as he looked up at you, stormy clouds swirling in his irises as he gave you a heavy-lidded expression.

"You good, dollface?" He inspected your features, making you hide your heated face behind your novel.

"All good." You reassured, trying to keep your breathing quiet. Your voice hitched as he moved to rub at your hip, you swore you could feel his fingerprints through your cotton trousers. You suppressed the urge to wriggle.

"You're squirmin' around like a fish out of water." He said airily. "You gettin' overheated?" He was stroking your thigh now, squeezing and massaging the fat torturously.

"I'm okay, Siri." You reached down to grab his wrist, but this was your mistake. The hand that stayed on the top your book to hold the pages open wasn't as stable as you thought, making it slip from your grasp and fall open onto your tummy. You moved to grab it, but your boyfriend had other ideas. He took the book in his hand, moving to mark your place and close the book, but something on the page caught his eye. He immediately took the book in both hands.

"Oh, what've you got here, babydoll?" His eyebrows were almost to his hairline. You thought he was about to start licking his chops, staring at you like he was a wolf in a sheep pen.

"Siri! Give it back!." You floundered, but he was determined. He flung himself towards the other end of the couch, eyes scanning over the page. You could see his lips movie, mouthing along with the scandalous scene he was reading, his grin growing wider and wider. You gave up, relenting to hide behind your hands and curl in a ball. You heard him set the heavy book down and felt his hands wrap around your shins, slowly climbing their way up, past your knees to settle on your thighs, slipping between them to nuzzle up to your face.

"You gonna look at me, baby?" His voice was teasing, but far lower than you'd ever heard it. The gravely cadence lit up parts of you that you didn't know existed and your face flamed beneath your palms. "Sweetheart," he chuckled darkly.

Could the couch just swallow you whole?

Sirius tugged at your wrists, trying to expose your face with no avail.

"You can't see me. I'm gone." You groaned, body still alight with shameful wanting. His low voice and wandering hands did nothing to help the situation you were facing.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." He sing-songed and you passed away on the spot. Your whole body went limp and your heart stopped. You were going to have to call a priest but even that couldn't save you. You shivered worse as his cold fingers slipped under the hem of your sweater, settling on your waist.

"Siri," You whined. "You're so mean." You heard him coo at you, voice filled with too much pity.

"Poor girl, c'mon, lemme see you." You shook your head. "Please, sweetheart. I'll be nice, I swear." He pleaded. You made no moves to expose your face, but you let your arms grow limp enough for him to pull them away. You looked at his chest, avoiding his hungry gaze. "There's my girl." He drawled. "My shy little girl." He shifted on top of you to be face-to-face, pinning you beneath him.

"How much did you read?" Your voice was so shaky Sirius didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"I read enough, trust me." He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes. You looked so insecure, fear swimming in your irises. But, what was beneath it all made him happy. There was poorly-disguised wanting buried deep in your gaze. Combined with your squirming hips, Sirius knew he was going to have fun with you.

"I'm sorry," You groaned, face alight with shame. "I didn't think you would see."

"First, you have nothing to be sorry for, silly. You can read whatever you want, especially when it's like that. 'S fucking hot, dollface." He kissed your cheek, moving down to your jaw, then your neck. "Second, I'm glad I saw it." He grinned at you, eyes seeping with dark wanting. "I'm so fucking glad. Didn''t know you liked stuff like that." He slipped the hem of your shirt up further, exposing a sliver of skin between your top and your trousers. "Tell me, sweet girl. Why were you shiftin' around underneath me?" He quirked a dark brow at you.

"No reason." Your voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it.

This boy was going to be the death of you. Every movement he made just pushed you more and more into desperation.

"Why were you readin' that, baby?" His voice was syrupy, dripping with honey. "That something you want?" You gave him an incredulous look.

"Did you seriously just ask me if the sex scenes I was reading were aspirational?"

"What? Would you rather have said 'are you living vicariously through a main character by reading about them getting their pussy licked?''' You groaned loudly, trying to hide behind your hands again, but Sirius had a firm grasp on your wrists.

"You said you would be nice." You whined.

"Oh trust me, I can think of a way I can be very fucking nice to you." Your thighs clenched at that.

"Sirius,"

"You gonna let me? You know I've been wantin' to. Been fucking dreaming about it." He was right. Every time you messed around he had crawled between your thighs, only to be met by you trying to distract him. He always pretended not to notice for your sake, but it didn't dissipate his desire.

"You don't really want to." You muttered.

"Trust me, I do." He said, vehemently. He softened at your anxious expression. "What're you so scared of? You know I'll keep you safe, I always do." He started rubbing your thigh in a way you were sure was meant to be reassuring.

"I know you will, it's just..." You crossed your arms over your stomach. "I mean, it's just that you'll be right there." You cringed, half embarrassment, half wanting. "Like you'll be able to see everything, and smell and just-" You shook your head, cutting yourself off.

"I'm not seeing the downsides here, baby." He teased. The wanting in you just grew worse at his low voice. He looked at you with wide puppy eyes, making a spectacle of his begging. "You gonna let me make you feel nice like that? Please sweetness? I'll make you feel so good you won't even be able to think."

Oh fuck it. Your resilience snapped, giving over to the lust brewing in your belly.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, I want you to." Your face heated to an ungodly temperature and you turned to ash on the spot. Sirius' grin grew to grinch-like proportions, making you squirm even worse.

"There's a girl," He praised, leaning down to trap you in a heated kiss. His spindly hand snaked around your jaw, tilting your chin up and encouraging your mouth open even more. He was greedily exploring your mouth, pulling moan after moan from the back of your throat before you could smother your desperate sounds. You sunk your fingers into his inky hair, pulling him closer to your face as you bucked your hips into his. He pressed a final kiss to your lips before he began to mouth down your jaw, nuzzling his face into your neck and making you giggle at the feeling.

"Siri," You sighed, squirming away from his mouth.

"You sound so fucking cute." He teased. "You always do." He was pawing at your shirt, exposing more of your skin to kiss and lick, occasionally pulling back to appreciate the shiny, spit-slick skin. He slid his palms under your shirt before grasping the hem and pulling it over your head. You didn't have time to cross your arms over your chest before he was face-first in your torso, mouthing and sucking at your breasts. He held you firmly in place as you squirmed beneath him, trying your best not to tug harshly on his curls.

"Siri," You sighed as he flicked a puffy nipple with his tongue, chuckling as he tugged on your bottoms.

"I'm gon' take these off, okay?" You nodded rapidly, letting him tug the trousers off of your legs and throw them on the ground. He massaged your thigh with one hand, taking in the sight of your body under him. He was staring for a beat too long for comfort You were melting under his heavy eyes, shrinking into yourself as much as possible and covering your flaming face with your hands.

"What're you doing?" You said, half whisper half whine.

He just scoffed out a laugh. "Looking at you, babydoll. So fucking pretty, you expect me not to? 'S my favorite sight, all spread out and desperate for me. You really want this don't you?" He didn't give you time to respond, just moved to kneel on the ground, rotating you and pulling your hips to the end of the seat. You were slumped against the couch back, thighs pressed together, you whined at the accidental friction, too overstimulated between your book and your boyfriends teasing words. Your nipples were pinched and peaked in the air and you had goosebumps everywhere. Sirius laughed at your predicament, thankful you couldn't see how he was straining against his tight trousers.

"P- please. Please, Siri." You weren't sure what you were begging for. You wanted to hide, you wanted to hold him, you wanted some relief for your throbbing pussy. He just chuckled again and leaned down to trap you in a dizzying kiss, gently stroking at your jaw and neck.

"Poor baby," He teased, slipping his hand down to tentatively touch over your panties. "This okay, sweet girl?"

"Yes, please." You sighed, bucking up into his hand. He stroked his fingers over the wet crotch of your panties. Your breath stuttered, it tickled and made your clit throb. He was being mean and he knew it.

"So fucking cute." He groaned, pulling at your waistband. "Want these off? Wanna free your little pussy?" You wanted to shrink at his filthy words, but they just added more heat to your core. You nodded pathetically and covered your face to shield yourself from his grin. He pulled your underwear down your legs, allowing them to close after.

You whined at the contact of the cool couch and air on your heated cunt. Sirius chuckled again, tugging at your arms.

"Look at me, baby." He guided your hands to rest on his shoulders and urged your thighs open, tugging your hips even closer to him. He kept one hand on your waist, pinning you down while the other explored your pussy. He spread you open with one hand, looking at you greedily. You squirmed and groaned again, feeling far too exposed.

"Sirius," The word was tugged from your throat.

"Fuck, it's so fucking pretty, baby. Y' so wet, smell so fucking good, you were needy for a long time, huh?" He crooned, stage-pity written all over his features. "Want me to make it better?"

"Please," You moaned, barely recognizing your own voice. He just smirked at you again, before diving into your cunt. He licked at you like he was starved, making obscene sounds in the back of his throat. His tongue wiggled through your folds, setting all your nerves on fire. The slurped his way up to your clit, wriggling his tongue and flicking at the stiff bud. He gave you a harsh suck before pulling away, your slick shining on his pretty face.

"My poor girl, y' all swollen and sensitive. You were needin' this for a long time haven't you? Shoulda eaten this little pussy so fucking long ago. 'S so fucking sweet, you're gonna have a hard time getting me to stop." He went right back to lapping at your core, pulling more strained moans from your belly. You didn't know if you wanted to keen into his tongue or run away from overstimulation. You did your best to wriggle your hips in his hold. He released one hand to trail it down to your pussy. He pulled away, licking his lips.

He thumbed cruelly at your swollen clit, pinching lightly it before slipping his fingers to your entrance. He stuck two fingers, middle and marriage into your soaked hole, exploring your walls for the spot that will make you scream. He doubled down on his efforts when he found it, sucking and flicking at your clit with twice the vigor. Fluids gushed from your pussy around his fingers and he greedily allowed his tongue to lap it up. Your whole body tightened, growing more and more tense by the second.

"Shit, Siri." Your thighs shook and your back arched. You threaded your fingers into his humid-frizzy hair, suppressing the urge to press his face deeper into you.

"That feel nice, yeah?" He whispered against your cunt. "I feel you clampin' on my fingers, sweet girl. You gonna cum for me? You wanna give it to me?" He was borderline begging, like it was more for him than for you, like it was his sanity on the brink of shattering.

"I wanna, wanna cum so bad." You whined, tingles spreading through your pussy.

"Fucking do it, baby. Cum on my face." He flicked his tongue while fucking his fingers up into you. You shook and spasmed in his arms. He was pinning you to the couch, holding your legs open to do his work. You squeezed his fingers, gushing even more.

"Shit, Siri. 'S so much." You bucked harshly and the pleasure intensified painfully. His tongue was dragging through your overstimulated folds. You pushed his head away from your aching pussy, making him whine upsettably. He settled to continue finger-fucking your cunt. You squirmed and moaned.

"That's so fucking hot. Y' little pussy is all sensitive." He cooed, clearly not sympathetic as he continued massaging your walls. You grabbed his wrist, making him stop his movements. He relented, pulling his fingers out before giving a parting lick to your swollen folds. You whined and he chuckled darkly, resting his chin on your tummy to look up at you, pupils blown out. You looked so fucked out his heart clenched.

"Thank you. Thank you." You muttered. Going shy under his gaze.

"Aw, you're welcome sweet baby. You were so good for me. My good girl." He praised, sitting up to pull your mushy form into him. You soaked in his touch greedily, hungry for affection in your post-coital state. "You doing okay, babydoll? Are you cold?"

"No, 'm okay." You muttered into his neck. You sat back on the couch, whining at the wet spot you left on the leather.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked, looking over your naked form. You looked down shamefully at the shiny spot between your legs. He laughed loudly, stroking your pretty face.

"I made a mess." You said, miserable.

"It's okay, sweet girl." He smiled kindly at you, before kneeling down and licking the spot away. You whined loudly and covered your face. "Aw, you shy? It's okay, I'll clean up my mess." He licked the couch again and you thought you would die on the spot. He just laughed again.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

CONSUMED by dadsbestfriend!Price rn

He and your dad served together when they were both younger men, boys really, and they fought side by side for years before your dad packed all that in and decided not to renew his contract - leaving for a white picket fence life with your mum and you

You’ve never gotten to meet him before, but you feel like you kind of know him anyways because of the stories you’ve grown up hearing. He’s always been like a kind of figment of your imagination, someone your dads always spoken highly of in all of his tales from drunken weekends and adrenaline spiked firefights, he’s like some kind of mythic hero haloed in beer fumes and musing looks that get shut down when your mum asks if they both got themselves into any trouble on their latest gambit

Sure, you’ve seen pictures, you know what his face looks like, vaguely anyways. Apparently he has mutton chops now, something your dad is ‘always shocked by’ when they meet up now. However the pictures don’t do him justice. You realise that quickly after you do lay eyes on him.

You go over to your parents house, summoned for an early birthday dinner for your dad, and that’s when you see him. The man, the myth, the legend is cosied up on your usual spot on the corner couch, at the end of the short side with the chunky red tartan pillow barricading the hard brown couch arm. He turns when he sees you staring directly at him, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow.

The pictures didn’t really encapsulate how big he was, how broad his shoulders were as they took up an expanse of the chair back, how expressive his eyes were as they rover over you, how nauseatingly good he looked when ripped out of the confines of ink and paper and pressed into the lumpy old sofa you’d never been so needy to jump onto before.

Every little overworked neuron in your mind was busy exploding while you pictured tugging on his hair and beard and moaning out filthy things for him.

“You must be the kid,” Price observes, not knowing how much it would sting you, “how’s the head?”

If you weren’t aware of how childish it would be you’d huff that you were far from being a kid anymore.

“How’s my what?” Part of you wants to quip back that it’s ‘great- it comes recommended’ but then the sane part of you kicks in and thinks ‘perhaps don’t get yourself kicked out just as you’ve gotten in the door’

“Your dad showed me that charming little photo you stuck in the family group chat from the party last night. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree by the looks of it.”

Your face would flame up like a radiator in the dead of winter, you were just about spluttering and hissing like one too. You’d forgotten all about the drunken selfie you’d sent while in a full haze of peace love and a couple draws of your friend’s j after countless rum and cokes. ‘Love u guys, see ya tomoz’ you’d typed over it - remembering how you fumbled and squinted at the screen just so that it would be halfway coherent. Now sober, you knew it probably wasn’t.

“Fuck me, it actually sent,” you grumbled, jumping when you hear his earthy laugh tumble out.

His voice is like tree bark and honey, stolen straight from the mountains and imbued into his throat. You hang on his every sound, keen eyes glued to his plush pink lips that Peak out from under his beard.

You hardly notice your dad coming in until he’s all but shouting your name, wrapping you in for a bear hug you weren’t in the slightest prepared for.

Every response form there on out was hazy, as if it had been preprogrammed. For the entire night all you’d be able to focus on was John - He’d tell you to call him that after awkwardly addressing him as Sir, though not before something dark slithered over his eyes and passed in the instant it had come.

You’d spent the whole night fixated on John, hanging on his every word, sighing heavily when he reached back and combed through his hair, tousling it to a point that made you wonder if that’s how it looked after a night well spent in passion.

You were lucky you got through the dinner without making an arse of yourself, though to be fair your mum had gotten a jab in about how quiet you’d been. Better that than being embarrassing.

Though you weren’t to get away unscathed. It’d get late and after spending the whole night before fanatically talking and dancing, you had no energy left for being at your parents - present company included or not. However before you could call a taxi, Price would jump in and offer you a lift, claiming taxis were far too unsafe for someone so precious.

It’d make your parents laugh, but you weren’t even smiling. You’d stutter your excuses, telling him he didn’t need to make a fuss, but he’d be persistent. Being an army Captain and all, he was very difficult to argue with, so of course you found yourself in the passenger seat of his monstrous car, watching nervously as the old beast sputtered to life.

“Is this thing even legal to ride?” You’d mutter, frowning at the persistent choking noise that rattled underneath the engine roar.

“Could ask the same about you.”

It was barely a whisper, almost lost to the growl in his throat and the sound of the engine, but you were so sure you’d heard it said nonetheless. The possibility of it sent your back stick straight and your mouth plummeting to the floor, though in the back of your mind you wondered if you’d only heard him say it from out of the depths of your subconscious.

“Excuse me?” You’d chirp.

“I said: couldn’t get you to pull up some directions, could you?”

He’d side eye you as he said it, smiling to himself as he indicates and pulls out onto the road and out of the cul-de-sac.

Right. Directions, of course. You were just being filthy minded, you’d had a long couple days and you were strung out and tired. Why would he insinuate that he wanted to know if you were the right age to fuck or not. Especially when - even if you were by many measures - he was off limits to you. Forbidden. No go. Like the battle zones he probably waded into through his day job.

“Here you go. It’s not far!”

You’d pull up your phone, placing it on the dashboard so that he could see. He’d tell you to put on music too, shocking you when he’d produce an aux cord (by rights this car shouldn’t have even had the words aux cord uttered in it, but somehow it supported one).

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?” You’d ask, waiting to hear whatever dreary nonsense he was likely to come out with.

“What do you think I listen to?” He’d ask, barely paying attention to you as he made his way down the main road. “I’ll be happy with whatever you put on.”

“I mean i doubt our tastes are super similar.”

“You trying to drive at somethin’ here, sweetheart?”

You’d light up at the name, lighting up from the inside out in quiet awe. It’d be a challenge having to suppress your little firework show off happiness, so you’d hide it by shrugging and saying “figured you’d listen to old man music.”

He’d shake his head and grumble about ‘no such thing’ up until you put on an old Killers song and watched him smile - then you’d sagely nod your head and repeat ‘old man music’ delighting in his playful growl.

“Killers ain’t even that old sweetheart, at least stick some Dylan or Cash on if you’re gonna patronise me.”

“This came out in 2004, dude - I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s old.”

“Dude,” he’d grunt back. “Earlier it was Sir, was it not?”

You’d flush again and face the window, suddenly absorbing yourself in the outside world. The way he said that was far too…inviting. The no go zone was looking like the ‘get right the fuck in here and stomp all over your parents relationship with this man’ zone.

You couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, sir,” you’d tease. “Won’t happen again.”

Stupid insatiable brat, you’d inwardly curse, watching as Price’s smile widened again, pulling his whole face into a knowing grin.

It’d be clear to see you weren’t the only one fighting the urge to cross the barrier and take what you wanted. And with two people smashing at the confines…well.

One thing was for certain, you knew it in the pit of your belly, there was no way you were going to stay away now.

[adnauseum11]

Officer in Charge

John recuperates with your help.

2.1k words

cw: 18+ for swearing, sex (MDNI)

feedback welcome

I wrote this chapter twice, the first time it was a ridiculous length and parts of it still felt flat. This version has been tightened up (can you guess where? lmao) and reads a bit smoother but MAAAN let me tell you that I like receiving oral sex more than I like writing about it at this point.

this work is part of the SNAFU series, Masterlist is pinned to my blog

Ao3

You can tell John is feeling better when he badgers you about your chopping technique from the corner of the sectional couch. You’ve taken it upon yourself to cook dinner tonight and have relegated him to the living room, but that hasn’t stopped him from chiming in. He’s installed himself where he can see you work, dressed for comfort after a shower in faded grey sweatpants and a pub t-shirt that pulls tight at his biceps. You’re only a little more put together in your bootcut jeans and ratty t-shirt, neither of you dressed to be anywhere other than home.

Despite his interference, (or perhaps because of it, not that you’ll admit it) you’re able to pull off a simple dinner of marinated pork chops and steamed broccoli with roasted potatoes. Over the course of tucking in to the food John floats the idea of going to dinner with his friend and her wife in the next few days. The offer gets your full attention once you realize it’s not someone you already know. You’ve never been invited to meet anyone from John’s work before with the exception of the man who stopped by the night of the break-in, and that was pure coincidence. This would be a first for you, being properly introduced to someone from his world, and curiosity takes hold.

You give your blessing for John to make plans for dinner while you clean up, half your attention on the rise and fall of his voice down the hall. He’s got a self-satisfied look on his face when he returns, catching you finishing up with the pot in the sink.

“We’ve got a reservation for the night before New Year’s Eve at that Chop House that opened recently. Kate and her wife will meet us there.”

“You’ve been talking about that place for weeks. It has the cigar lounge downstairs?”

“Yeah, same one.”

“Fancy, John. We’ll get to dress up.”

You dry your hands and turn to look at the handsome man taking up space at your elbow. He looks like he wants to say something else but hesitates, his lips pressing together as your eyes meet.

“What?”

You prod him, it being out of character for him not to speak his mind. He studies you for a moment before seemingly making a decision and pressing ahead.

“About that- “

“About what?”

“Do you still have the dress you wore to my birthday dinner a few years ago?”

Your eyebrows climb your forehead as John speaks. You would have bet money on John not really paying attention to what you wear, never mind recalling an outfit from years ago.

“What did it look like? Was it velvet?”

You ask for confirmation and John’s eyes light up in recognition, telling you all you need to know. You remember the dress, and you’re pretty sure you still have it in the recesses of the wardrobe. It’s an off the shoulder, dark green floor length velvet dress, with one full length sleeve that ends at your wrist. The cut of the dress is tight, leaving one arm and shoulder exposed, the soft velvet accentuating your curves.

“Yeah, still have it?”

John’s interest in the dress shouldn’t surprise you, it is a slinky number, but for some reason it takes you off guard. You were firm friends when you wore it last, and his birthday dinner had been with a group of people at an upscale restaurant – not an intimate affair.

“Yeah, you remember that?”

“Course I remember that night.”

John sounds affronted at your disbelief, as if you’re calling him old. His brow furrows and his head tilts, his blue eyes clear and keen once again, pinning you in place.

“No, I mean, what I was wearing that night – that was years ago John.”

His face shifts and his eyes heat as he reaches out, wrapping a hand around your wrist to reel you into him.

“You wore the hell out of that dress, darling. It left an impression. I’d love to see it again.”

You let yourself be bundled up in his arms and directed down the hallway, John’s lips running over the base of your neck lightly, his wiry facial hair teasing you. Shivers sweep you from head to toe, your fingernails biting into his forearms as he steers you forward. The male groan of satisfaction when he discovers your nipples have tightened against your shirt sends a flash of desire through you.

“I want you, love.”

John’s deep voice is earnest in your ear, travelling down your spine directly to your core, a low throb rolling through you in response to his admission. You can feel his growing interest pressing against your ass as he directs you into the bedroom, his tongue swirling over your pulse point before the light drag of his teeth make you gasp.

“You’ve been looking after me all day, my turn, yeah?”

The low reverberations of John’s voice in your ear turn your insides molten and you sag against him, pressing yourself back against the hard planes of his chest, letting him take some of your weight. His mouth traces the curve of your neck as his hands find your hips, his body crowding you and pushing you forward. He stops before you topple into the bed and spins you around to face him, the black of his pupils eating up the dark blue of his iris.

“This isn’t going to set back your recovery, is it?”

You ask, clearly more concerned about his wellbeing than he is at the moment.

“Darling, I could be half dead and still want you.”

He works his hands under your t-shirt, tugging it over your head before you can respond, a master of the well-timed distraction. The sweep of air over your exposed skin makes your nipples tighten and you can feel John groan, his warm breath washing over the base of your neck. Your hands rise to press against his chest, using his solid form to steady yourself as he crowds you again, fingertips sweeping up your sides to cup your breasts. Your palms slide up the muscle of his chest, tilting your head to find his lips and kiss him deeply.

The pass of his tongue over yours raises goosebumps on your arms, subconsciously pressing yourself closer to the heat of his body. John corrals you against him, strong hands landing on your ass, urging your hips against his while he takes charge of the kiss. The delicious rasp of his tongue against yours completely distracts you from his hands tracing your waist and undoing the button of your jeans. The brush of his fingers over your lower abdomen as he works your fly down has your stomach swooping with desire. You break away to suck in a shaky breath and John takes the opportunity to back you the last few steps into the bed, sending you tumbling backwards with a surprised yelp.

The jeans hanging off your hips don’t take more than a few tugs from John to disappear, his focus locked on your sprawled body. John’s intense when something has his attention, and unfailingly when he turns that intensity in your direction it stirs you, a prickle of awareness running through you as you look up at his big frame. You reach for him but he catches your wrists and holds your hands down against the bed, his mouth finding yours for another searing kiss, leaving you panting when he pulls away.

A low moan tumbles out of your throat as he presses kisses down your body, raking his teeth over the satin of your bra, catching your nipple in a gentle pinch. The heat of his mouth closing over your nipple through the material sooths the flare of pain and makes your breath catch in your throat. Your hands twitch in his grasp, eager to feel him but his fingers tighten, the unspoken message clear – don’t touch. You’re on the verge of whining at him when he releases you to tug your underwear down your legs and settle himself on his knees at the edge of the bed. Fistfuls of the duvet fill your hands instead of grabbing at him, suddenly not as willing to divert his attention by disobeying. His big hands skim up your hamstrings, encouraging you to drape your legs over his shoulders while he presses kisses over the delicate skin of your inner thighs. The confident swipe of his tongue over your silken folds pulls a groan from your lungs, arching your back off the bed.

The duvet strains against your grip, your heel pressing into the wide muscle of John’s back as the heated drag of his tongue on your clit makes your hips follow mindlessly. His warm palm settles low on your belly, thumb brushing over your pubic hair, holding you down against the mattress as his tongue teases you, alternating between toying with your clit and your increasingly slick entrance. You try to grind your hips against his face, making a sound of frustration when he withholds the pressure you’re growing increasingly desperate for. Your voice wavers when you say his name again, the ‘n’ getting drawn out as his tongue swirls over you tightly. He lifts off you enough to speak, his lips ghosting over your skin, sending bolts of lightning shooting up your spine.

“Tell me what you want, love. Let me hear you.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply, diving right back in, his mouth closing over your swollen clit while his finger sinks into you up to his knuckle, ripping a gasp from your lungs.

“Shit, god, make me cum – I want your mouth on me, yes, like that-"

John finally settles in to a steady rhythm, running the tip of his tongue up one side of your clit and down the other, sending your hips chasing the sensation thoughtlessly as much as his hold will allow. He deftly adds another finger, sliding home in your slick heat with a groan against your plush flesh. Each rocking thrust of his fingers is paired with his wicked tongue swirling and sucking your aching clit until your writhing against his face, panting desperately against the bedding. The wet heat of your pussy is clenching around his fingers, trying to draw him deeper, making him moan. Vibrations roll through you, your back arching and your toes curling tightly, your breath catching in your throat as you start to babble, begging for your release.

“Don’t stop, fuck that feels so good, John don’t stop- “

The bedding is tangled in your grip as your entire body throbs, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Your wanton moan bouncing off the walls is nearly as loud as the thundering of your heart, your body humming with delicious tension. John rides the roll of your hips, an expert in reading you, and crooks his fingers to brush against the sensitive bundle of flesh deep inside as he fucks you with his hand. A broken cry wrenches out of your chest as the combination of John’s beckoning fingers and his relentless tongue shoves you over the edge, your body bucking mindlessly against him as you cum. A matching growl rumbles out of John as an extra wash of your arousal leaks from your spasming walls around his fingers, dripping from his knuckles. Your thighs clamp down on his shoulders, your grinding hips riding out your orgasm as his tongue laps greedily at your tender flesh. John only eases off when your legs sprawl open again, sucking his fingers into his mouth as you pant like you’ve just sprinted a hundred-yard dash. His beard shines wetly in the lights of the room when he leans over your prone body, your hands instinctively raising to tug at his shirt. He kisses you deeply, palms landing on either side of your head, the earthy salty taste of you on his tongue making your pussy throb all over again.

He breaks away to tug his shirt off, your hands dropping to cup the curve of his erection, currently tenting the front of his sweatpants. When John had initiated the shift in your relationship it had taken you a little while to get used to the new level of intimacy, but now you're unable to imagine not having him like this; flushed, hard and wanting. He pauses in taking the rest of his clothing off, his eyes locked on you, your fingers searching out the shape of him through his sweats, forcing a grunt out of his lungs.

“What is it?”

You ask, releasing him to hook your fingers in the band of his sweats, trying to tug them down from your reclined position. He catches your hands, stilling them against the wiry hair of his stomach for a moment.

“I have something for you.”

“Is it a condom?”

“That too.”

His voice is dark, a low gravelly purr, full of promise that makes the base of your spine tingle in anticipation.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch @magsmagic @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @chickennn-soupp @fruitymoonbeams-blog @redwites @glitterypirateduck @tf141gloryhole

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Betcha Won't

Author’s Note: Hello again! I’m so sorry for missing my usual Thursday night upload last week. I was down and out with a migraine for a bit, but now I’m back in action! New avatar, same ole shit, lol. Part 6 of Somethin’ Sweet takes it back a bit with something nice and cozy. I apologize for breaking so many hearts two weeks in a row, so as promised, this one’s much softer. Thanks for reading!! 

Summary: Sy makes a camping trip to the lake a night they’ll never forget.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC 

Warnings:  hope you’ve got a dentist appointment on the books, because this is tooth-rotting fluff…minus the smut, of course. Expect a strip tease, descriptions of anatomy, oral sex (female receiving), and p-in-v- sex. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Beta’d by: @peyton--warren ❤️

Playlist

“You got any more of that jerky?” They’d been walking for what felt like hours, but in reality was only 30 minutes. As a Colorado native, Merrin really should’ve been more prepared for a hike than this, but he’d really sprung it on her. She’d anticipated another night at the diner. Friday’s special was prime rib and baked potatoes, and though they’d only been at it for a few weeks now, she knew he wasn’t one to pass up a good meal. So when he showed up outside of her house and told her he had a surprise for her, she was keen to see what tricks he had up his sleeve. She just didn’t know their change of plans would include bug spray. Stumbling her way through the foliage of an unfamiliar path, she reached out an expectant hand in wait for her reward. Sy slapped another piece of cured venison into her palm and chuckled at the noises of delight she made as she happily gnawed on it. 

“That’s the last of it. If I’d known how much you’d like my meat, I would’ve brought more.” 

Merrin didn’t have to see his face to know how pleased he was with himself, and she gave a playful wack to the back of his head as they broke through the clearing. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Calm, clear water lapped at the pebbled shoreline of a vast lake surrounded by trees. It was a sight that took her breath away. A tent stood off to her left in the plush carpet of grass, filled with all the blankets and pillows he could gather in those big ole arms of his. A little further down, closer to the bank, a stack of freshly chopped firewood waited to be lit. It was a dreamy little scene, put together with so much forethought. He must’ve been working on it all afternoon. Merrin smiled as she took in the sight, and wrapped an arm around his waist to draw him close. “You did all this for us?”

He took a shot in the dark when he’d made the executive decision to move date night outdoors, and though he hoped she’d like the change in scenery, there was still a part of him that worried that she wouldn’t. Seeing her now, beaming up at him like he’d hung the moon when all he’d really done was fight with a flimsy tent pole for twenty minutes made it all worth while. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he smiled back down at her. 

“Nah, baby. I did it for you.”

__

They sat together on a blanket in the grass as the sun disappeared behind the trees. Sparks snapped and crackled on their way up to touch the sky. Merrin sat between his open knees and rested back against him. The old radio from the workshop was propped up by the cooler with the sound turned down low. Since his truck only had a tape deck, Sy had taken up making mixed tapes for her. Merrin tapped her toes to the beat as they watched the gentle waves roll in against the shore. He wondered what was on her mind as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. What she said made his heart skip a beat.

“Twenty bucks says you won’t strip down to your skivvies and run into the lake right now.”

Her proposition caught him off guard, and he nearly choked on his beer. Snorting and coughing through the foam, Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. 

“Twenty bucks says what?!”

She giggled and turned to look up at him, a mischievous little grin spread wide across her freckled face. She sure likes to keep him on his toes. “You heard me.”

Sy laughed and shook his head. “Do you know how cold that water is? No way, Darlin’. I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna catch a cold for twenty bucks.”

Without missing a beat, she shrugged. “Fifty says you won’t do it bare-ass naked.”

He stopped. Now that could make for an interesting night. “ You ain’t gotta bribe me to get me naked, babydoll. All ya gotta do is ask.” 

Merrin stood and brushed the sand from the backside of her jeans. “Come on, Capitan, live a little. When’s the last time you did something fun?” 

Sy paused. She was right. Of course she was right. Before her, he couldn’t remember a time in the last decade that he’d let himself do something on a whim. Every t was crossed, every i was dotted. Sitting here by the fire tonight, he realized how much he’d missed out on by overthinking every decision he made. He could stand to lose a little resolve. Before he could make a move, though, Merrin was already kicking off her shoes. She peeled off her socks and tucked them away inside of her beat up sneakers, then worked to loosen her belt.

“Come on, Clay. You really gonna make me do it alone?”

 Sy sat back again for a moment to take in the sight. He’d been trying to come up with ways to get her out of those jeans all night long, yet here she was, baring herself to him out in the open like this. Any action they’d had up until now had taken place over the clothes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, because fuck, did he want her so badly. In truth, he’d been stalling. It’d been almost a year since he’d been with a woman, since before he met her, before his last deployment. Merrin was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and he just didn’t want to let her down. He knew he wouldn’t last very long once he finally had her. It was apparent now that he’d been stalling for so long that she’d decided to take matters into her own hands. She pulled him back down to earth when she tossed her panties at his face. He snatched them away eagerly to get a better look at her. 

“Well, get to it, then. I’ve shown you mine. Now you gotta show me yours.”

Snapping his mouth closed, Sy lept to his feet to toe off his boots. By the time he finished stripping, she’d already made it to the water.

Squealing in surprise, Merrin shuttered as the cold water lapped at her toes. Maybe skinny dipping wasn't such a good idea after all. When she turned round, ready to admit her misjudgment, she bumped right into him. His bare chest was warm against hers, and fuzzier than she’d imagined. She reached out to trace her fingers through the blanket of dark hair and let them trail down his stomach without a second thought. Heart pounding loudly in her ears, she fought to keep her gaze above the waist. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t- fuck. 

Fuck was right. One glance at what was waiting for her made her head spin. She didn’t have a chance to react though, before she was suddenly hoisted up into the air and thrown over a broad shoulder. Sy laughed as she squealed and squirmed to free herself from his grasp. 

“Nuh uh, no ma’am. Yer the one who wanted me out here. Time ta’ put yer money where yer mouth is. Now hold yer nose.” 

Merrin took a deep breath just in time, when they crashed together into the lake. Just as predicted, the water was freezing cold, and when she broke the surface again, Merrin let out a scream of surprise. Laughing through the shock, she stood and splashed him in retaliation. 

“Fuck, its cold!”

“I tried ta’ tell ya! Come here.”

Sy chuckled and wiped the water from his eyes, then held out a hand to her. Drawing her in close, he wrapped her up in his arms and swept damp strands of hair from her face. They held each other close and giggled like children beneath the moonlight. He looked down at her as their laughter faded to echoes, tracing each goosebump on her arm with the back of his knuckles. No matter how many times he’d imagined this moment, nothing could compare to the way she felt in his arms tonight. Skin on skin, knee deep in crystal clear water beneath a blanket of stars, not a cloud in sight. A lot had changed since he'd been here last, and though not all of it was good, he was thankful for it all. He’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant he could stay with her like this forever. 

__

Neither of them had to speak to know what would come next. Sy carried her back to shore and laid her down on the bed of pillows he’d crammed into the two-man tent. Neither of them cared that they were still wet from their dip in the lake. In the moment, it didn’t matter. The passion between them burned hotter than the smoldering embers of the campfire outside. She welcomed him onto her and tangled her arms around his neck as they kissed. No matter how close he got, it would never be close enough. She wanted him inside of her, body, mind, and spirit, but he had other plans for her. His lips brushed down her chin and he nuzzled upward until her head fell back in submission. The scratch of his beard against her throat and he kissed his way down felt delicious, and she ached to feel it all over. Though the cold weather made her nipples stand at attention first, they perked up for him now with each pass of his tongue. He caught one between his teeth, but only for a moment, long enough to put a smile on his face as he listened to her purr for him. 

“That’s it, Sugar. Sing for me.”

Merrin trembled when his tongue traced around the outside of her navel. Swallowing thickly, she dug her fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders and watched as he settled in to rest between her thighs. Merrin bit her lip as she watched him size her up from there. Maybe it was the beer that made her brave enough to make the first move, but laying beneath him now, she hoped he wouldn’t look too closely. Stretch marks snaked across her stomach and hips, cellulite dimpled the skin of her thighs and ass. Growing up, she’d always been a little heavier than her friends. It wasn’t until she’d gotten older than she’d become more comfortable in the body she was given. Sy looked up at her through lids heavy with lust, as if to read her mind. Sharp teeth carved gently across the inside of her knee to silence the thoughts running through her head. Arching her back, she bucked her hips up towards him to stop his teasing. 

“Sy…” Merrin begged through shaky breaths. “Please…”

He sat back on his haunches to admire her. She’d smack that look right off his face if she didn’t think her hands would tremble. He reveled in her desperation, and she knew that. Whining and squirming beneath him, she tried to close her legs in embarrassment. Sy caught her by the knees, one in each hand, and held them wider than before, clear up to her shoulders. 

“Nuh uh, little Miss Merrin,” he shook his head in feigned disappointment. “Tell me what’chu want from me.”

Her face turned beet red as blood rushed to her cheeks and spread down her neck as she turned her head to look away. He didn’t like that much. With both of her legs pinned beneath one rough hand, he redirected her by the chin to meet his eyes again. Sucking his teeth, he shook his head again. Say it. Just say it, and I’ll give you the world. He held her gaze and waited patiently for her to get the nerve to open her mouth again. Chuckling softly, Merrin let out a shaky breath as she reached for him. 

“I want you, Clay. More than anything.” 

“How? How do you want me?” 

Draping one of her legs over his shoulder, lips moving at a snail’s pace, Sy kissed his way all the way down. He had the patience of a saint. He could do this all night. Merrin, on the other hand…

“Fuck’s sake, Clayton Lee! Are you just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna eat my fuckin' pussy?”

That was all he needed. Confirmation, one way or another, that she wanted this just as much as he did. His laughter shook the tent, and in the blink of an eye, he dove right in. He spread her open with his thumbs and used the tip of his tongue to explore her weeping folds. Slow, precise, probing movements until he had the lay of the land, then it was game over. He devoured her, lips, tongue, and teeth working together to draw her close to the edge. Merrin mewled and moaned, head back and back arched, ass hovering above the ground as he held her thighs and shook his head from side to side. It wasn’t long before a familiar tightness began to blossom low in her belly, and before she knew it, he had her seeing stars.

He gave her space to come back down to earth again, and once she caught her breath again, he lowered her hips back down onto the blankets. Calloused thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the dips of her hip bones as he waited patiently for her word again. He wore the evidence of her arousal in his beard with pride, the sticky-sweet nectar gleaming in the glow of the nearby fire. Merrin ran a hand through her sweat-dampened hair and melted against the pillow beneath her head. 

“Well, shit…If I’d known you were so good at that, I would’ve stripped for you a lot sooner.”

Sy threw his head back and barked out a laugh that drew her own laughter with it. “Baby doll, all ya had ta’ do was ask. I’ve been dreamin’ about eatin’ that little pussy from the moment I first laid eyes on ya.”

But when she moved to sit up, he nudged her back down again. She frowned, confused. Didn’t he want her to return the favor? He simply shook his head, as he intertwined their fingers together and gave a squeeze of reassurance. 

“No, baby, it’s alright. I won’t last if ya do that fer me. Let’s save that fer another time.” 

Merrin laid back on her elbows and eyed him with reluctancy. She’d never met a man who’d turn down a blowjob, but whatever floats his boat, she guessed. Sy took a moment to reach over into his bag and retrieve the shiny little packet from the outside pocket. Good ole Sy, always planning ahead. He tore through it with his teeth and sat back to grip himself with his left hand. They both watched eagerly as the condom unrolled down his impressive length, and he sighed once he’d finished. Merrin wasn’t inexperienced, but the thought of him splitting her open on that thing had her stomach in knots. He could sense her apprehension, and truth be told, he was nervous too. In a fleeting moment of thought, he wondered if this is what it would’ve felt like to lose his virginity on prom night. He didn’t go to his senior prom, was too busy helping his uncle in the fields that spring, but the nerves he felt now sure felt that way. Every moment they’ve spent together had led up to this. Leaning in to brush his nose against hers, he whispered softly against her lips. 

“I’ll go slow. Just…tell me if it hurts, m‘kay?”

“Go slow,” She nodded slowly, repeating his promise out loud as if to make that promise to him too. Dragging the tip of his aching cock through her folds once, then once more, he gathered her wetness there to help smooth the tension. Merrin gasped when he caught at her entrance and breathed through the sting of the stretch her walls gave around him as he worked his way inside of her. Nice and slow, just as promised, he pulled out all the way and tried again and again, until he was fully engulfed inside of her. Hearts pounding in their chests, they clung to each other and worked together, two souls finally coming together as one. One spark, and they’d set the whole forest ablaze. 

The shock and awe melted away, leaving room for nothing but unbridled fervor. The gentle, probing shift of hips turned to hungry thrusts. Loud smacks of skin on skin only adding to the ambiance their bodies made. Sounds of lust echoed across the lake, creating a beautiful symphony with the radio and the woods. A bead of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, seeking shelter in the dip of her collarbone. Painted fingernails left pink lines through the ink on his back. “More…more, more, more,” was all she could think to say, and more, he gave her. He gave her all he had, until he just couldn’t take it anymore. The cry of a warrior ripped through his chest, as he pounded her endlessly and emptied himself into the condom deep inside of her. She came too with a shout, body seizing and writing beneath him, as they rode out their shared climax. When everything was said and done, Sy collapsed on top of her with a grunt. They listened to the bullfrogs croak as they sought the breath they’d fucked out of one another. Moments passed, when Merrin finally broke the silence again. 

“Fuck.”

“Fuck yeah, or what the fuck was that?”

The grin she gave him was answer enough, as he turned over to lay beside her. 

“Fuck yeah.”

Sy chuckled, grabbing a blanket to pull over them to keep the cool night air out. Even though he hadn’t lasted as long as he would’ve liked, it certainly made for a night he’ll never forget. 

“Fuck yeah, baby doll. Fuck yeah.”

__

Sy was downright giddy the next morning as he drove her back into town. He might’ve stuck his head out the window and sung her praises to the world around them, If it weren’t 8:30 on a Sunday. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed quietly to himself. Across the bench seat, Merrin flipped open the glove compartment and rooted through it for his collection of tapes. When a beam of early morning sunlight gleamed caught something shiny, she dug through the mess to find the source. He watched her from the corner of his eye, but by the time he’d comprehended what she’d found, it was too late. Mouth hanging open, he watched as she examined the condom in her hands. 

“Hm,” she said thoughtfully, turning it over to read the back as if she were flipping through the funny’s in the morning paper. “Ya know, I’ve never seen a gold one in real life before. I mean, I knew they were real, but damn. You could drain a bathtub with one’a these things.”

Sy laughed and scratched the back of his neck, relieved to know that she didn’t think he was some kinda sex fiend for keeping a stash here just in case. Well…Maybe she wouldn’t have been too far off, but still. They were still new to this. 

“Yeah…Yeah, they’re pretty big, huh.”

Merrin scoffed. 

“Pretty big? That steak you devoured was pretty big. You’re fuckin’ huge, babe.” 

They pulled up to her house a moment later. Sy put the truck in park and turned off the ignition, but left the keys there. He didn’t want to intrude, so he sat back against the cracked leather seat and looked her way. 

“So…got any plans fer today?”

She thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. 

“Besides sitting on a bag of frozen peas? Nothin’, really.”

He nearly choked on his own spit. Merrin giggled as he fumbled to come up with a coherent thought, an apology, something, then leaned across the console to kiss him on the cheek. He’s cute when he’s pussy drunk. 

“Come on, Cowboy. I’ll make you some pancakes.”

His stomach growled at the thought of food, and in an instant, he snatched the keys from the dash. He had her door open before she could even laugh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

__

taglist: @geralts-yenn @peyton-warren @kingliam2019 @uunotheangel @deandoesthingstome @drewharrisonwriter @foxyjwls007 @melissareadsstuff @totalwool @summersong69 @caramariehurst @niallhorwen @warriormirkwood @mairablue @omgkatinka @evansabove1981 @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @enchantedbytomandhenry @bascmve01

[phoniexrose02]

I wanna show you off 😜

Robby Keene x Black! Reader

Moskowitz!Reader

Fluff~

Your Relationship with Robby Right now was a Bit...

Taboo

When you an your Brother Joined Miyagi Do it was almost Smooth Sailing, Eli was Getting Grilled pretty Hard For his Behavior, While Miguel an Demetri Greeted you from 'The Dark side' as they would Put it. But there was still one Loose strand.

Robby.

Not only Robby. But his Relationship with you, You Made no Attempt to Hide it What'so Ever.

Every Party, Event DamnNear everywhere you Went to Were Tongue Fuckin' in some Dark Corner.

"What if They See Baby?"

"I Hope They Catch Us~"

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Eli Of all Was pretty Distort.

"Y/n That Fuck Chopped off My Hawk and Your still Locking Lips!?"

"Eli you Broke Demetri's Arm...I'm pretty Sure Hospital Bill Beats a 15 Dollar Box of Hair Dye!"

It Caused Issues. But you Two Made no Attempt what so Ever to hide your undying love, Robby Made Sure to Touch you as much as possible to piss Eli off Further.

"Tell Keene to Watch His Hands..."

"Please Stop Trying to Police My Husband Eli..."

ರ⁠_⁠ರ

When Prom Came around Robby Mysteriously Had Cash to Blow on you, You tried your Hardest to Be generous with His Money But the Dresses he Picked Were Both Beautiful...and Expensive.

"Come on Baby, I wanna Show you Off~"

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

When you showed to Prom in your Dress, Robby couldn't stop the Heat from Coming to his Cheeks."You look Gorgeous Baby~" He wasn't the Only one Mesmerized, Everyone was Gawking at you like a Goddess.

"Hey I'mma Go Check on my Brother, He's Kinda Here alone-"

"I'll just Chill With the Cobra's" he said Quietly Reassuring you that he's Good.

"Right, Your Cobra's~" He gave her a Humourous Smile before Kissing your Cheek and Letting you Go.

(⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

"You Look Beautiful Tonight, Ma said You went Shopping Earlier"

Your Brother Stared off into the Party, you could Feel How Uncomfortable He was with his Own Presence. What you'd Failed to Tell Him was How Hard you cut into Robby for the Little Hawk Incident, you Didn't like seeing anyone Beat down your brothers Confidence Even if he deserved it.

"Is he Treating you Well??" He averted his gaze from Whatever he was Looking at too Robby, Tory and Kyler an his Asshat Minions."Of course, Did Mom Tell you he Bought the dress?" He Shook his Head Returning his Gaze into the Deep Crowd of People, you Finally Gave up on Cheering the Young man Up an Instead Followed his Eyes too...Moon. "Eli...go Talk to her, Don't Stare" As he Stood you could Hear a Bit of Commotion an Saw your Boyfriend fuming at Whatever Kyler had Said.

"Chill man Think of it as Friendly Advice"

"I don't think Calling my Girlfriend 'Miyagi Ho' Isn't Very Good Advice"

You sighed rolling your Eyes as you walked over."Miyagi Ho Kyler? Really? Ya know before you used to hurt my Feelings, But That was Just Sad" Your Boyfriends Face Eased From his Anger as you Wrapped your Arms around his Waist."Now Shoo~ Before i Get Miguel to Whoop your ass again" He groans Before Calling his Buddies along with him.

"My Hero~"

"Oh Ha ha Keene, Wanna Ditch this Place an Party at my House?" His Brows Pinch an a mischievous Smirk Comes to his Face." We ain't Doing Much Partying If your Parents aren't Home"

"Mom Took Pictures Before Taking Night Shift, an a Rolled a Blunt Before I Left~" He Smirked Before Taking your Hand and Leading you Out, Your Were Stunned when he Led to a Very Expensive Car."Robby Seriously, Where's all this Money Coming From??"

"ill Tell you...After i Fuck you in it~" You Felt you Cheeks Warm as he Opened the Door For you, You Hope in and Share a Passionate Kiss Before Riding off to your Own Secluded Party~

(⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)

More Cobra Kai

[thenightfolknetwork]

Shortly after my 7th untimely demise, I came into a bit of money, and decided to spend it on a small 19th-century estate. It’s a gorgeous house, complete with turrets and everything. The turrets were, ah, fully collapsed when I first arrived, and the rest of the house wasn’t in much better shape, but I knew it was a fixer-upper and was confident I could handle it. And I was right! There were certainly some surprises along the way, but a few months ago, I was finally able to start moving in.

As often happens with these sorts of properties, there were some pre-existing tenants that weren’t listed on the contract. My bedroom has an enchanted mirror permanently bound to the wall, the stables house twin 11-year-old ghosts, the kitchen has a automatically-refilling bowl of perpetually fresh apples, and the library fireplace foretells visions of doom—not to mention Stain, the black cat (…I’m pretty sure she’s just a regular cat, but she’s still very much a figure of the property).

It’s. So. Much fun. I was worried I’d get lonely! But now, I can get ready for the day while having a lovely chat with the mirror, snag an apple from the kitchen, go read a book in the library and tell the fireplace that they’re looking particularly unnerving this afternoon, and then chop vegetables for dinner while supervising the kids’ potion-making—I usually don’t care for children, but these two are delightfully precocious, and it’s been a while since I’ve had apprentices. And Stain—she’s wrapped around my shoulders while I write this—she looks like she got hit by a car! She’s adorable.

We all have our spats, but the estate is big enough for us to have our own spaces, and we’re all doing our best to ~communicate~, as you like to say. It’s going swimmingly. Except.

Like most old properties, the house has collected a fair amount of dust over time. In this case, though, all those dust bunnies turned… sentient. Overall, they’re perfectly pleasant to the rest of us, but like to be left to their own devices and aren’t keen on doing what others want. I certainly won’t be judging them for it.

However, while the estate was left to fall into disrepair, the rifts that developed were—are—oh, how do I say this. Well. I probably shouldn’t beat around the bush. I’m having, er, dust bunny gang wars? In my house? And I am fed up with it! The mirror needs cleaning twice a day, the apples have to be washed before eating, Stain’s getting frankly concerning hairballs, and the twins—! Actually, they seem to be rather well-adjusted. I think they may be betting on the fights with the fireplace.

Anyway. As for me, in most of the house, the turf allotments are pretty stable. Not so for the room directly under my bedroom. Practically every other day in there’s a dust bath, and I just can’t sleep with all of the snapping and coordinated dancing and bloodcurdling screams going on.

I’d like to be able to finish moving in to my home. I was even hoping to set up my spinning wheel in that room, but I can’t expose all of those loose fibers to the dust. I am very literally losing sleep over this. What should I do?

Oh, reader. What a frustrating situation! I would like to commend you for your commitment to sharing your home with its previous occupants, and in your success at building a home together you can all enjoy. At least, most of the time.

I understand that the dust bunny population prefer to keep to themselves and enjoy their own autonomy. And I think you're right to respect that preference, to a degree. But their behaviour is now infringing unacceptably on the peace and comfort of your home's other residence. Enough is enough.

Your first step it to try and open lines of communication between yourself and the bunnies. A simple communication ritual should suffice. Set yourself up with a talking board and few candles, and see if you can encourage the bunnies to speak to you directly.

If you're thinking this sounds rather similar to methods used to contact the more antisocial members of the spirit community, you'd be correct. You are trying to speak to sentient dust, and statistically speaking, household dust is largely composed of dead skin cells. A little light necromancy should see you well on your way to negotiating a lasting peace.

As with any peace negotiation, there will be compromises. Before you start this process, think carefully about what you are and aren't willing to give up – and what it is, precisely, you're asking for.

Are you trying to claim the spare room as your own territory, or declaring it a no man's land? Do you intend to act as an intermediary between dust bunny factions, mediating for a broader peace, or are you simply trying to put limits on how these factions behave in the shared spaces of your home?

With clarity of purpose and a commitment to communication and compromise, I think you'll be able to find your way to a solution that works for everyone. If no solution is forthcoming, you might consider a small show of force to encourage co-operation. A new vacuum cleaner, featured in a prominent position in the contested territory, for example.

[freewilllife]

Mu Qing and Hua Cheng and that old tale of classism

It is one of MQ´s sins that he upholds classism in regard to HC

I am always amazed how burthurt some people act, because they cannot accept that Xie Lian used to be pretty superficial.

Yes, both FX and MQ were not keen that HC stayed, but nobody can prevent XL from doing something he wants. If he had desperately wanted HC to stay with him in the palace after he had rescued him, HC would have stayed. But he was uninteresting to XL, therefore he was handed to FX in order to get rid of him.

People just hate to be reminded of it and therefore, they ask actually...who was worse of...the one who had not to know-tow to others, but was bloody poor with no person to care for or the one who had a blind mother, who was relentlessly bullied and hated due to classism and was living in a not exactly secure position from whom he could have removed at any moment, if XL had just desired it?

Yes, MQ was maybe from a similar background, even though it is also possible that HC had lived in a better house before he left his family.

And when has XL ever listened to Mu Qing? MQ´s opinion was mostly ignored by XL throughout the whole flash-backs. MQ was neither overly kind to HC, but he also was not cruel to him either. He showed even a little more empathy in regard to the child, than the other two.

(Just because HC is not able to realize that it was most likely more kindness to throw him - a 15 year old teenager that has had hardly any kind of training- out of the army in a bloody war where people died like flies, doesn´t mean that his version is indeed correct. Enlisting a person that is not yet an adult would be usually criticized, but because XL thinks it is alright, then it is alright, I guess. )

So to make it bloody obvious: XL was not interested in Hong that used to be HC...He used to always forget that he had even met him before...He is the crown prince of Xianle, who could have easily changed HC´s fate but he kept forgetting him, because to him, he was not important enough to even remember him.

But no..it is of course MQ´s fault, who was still bullied due to classism and was still dependent on XL´s goodwill for quite some time in the past.

By the way HC is not bound by his upbringing anymore, because nobody knows, who the heck he even is (apart of a few selected people who looked at his glorious paintings), while everybody knows MC´s origin even after 800 years. Even after so much time people make fun of him and keep reminding him with a broom, what his standing used to be...a servant. So he is still a victim of classism in a world that is full to the brim with generals and princes.

HC has created a marvelous new system or ends classism

He is the ghost king in whose city human beings are chopped and he has subordinates like any of the gods who shut up, if he wants to...heck he even benefits from the same source (the believers) like the gods...

So what glorious society are you talking about? He is obviously upholding a caste system with him at the top...as he is a king...

MQ regards HC as suspicious, just because...

If you think like that, then you must have overread the part, where it is stated that HC clearly attacked FX and MQ several times without mercy...I mean, Pei Ming literally called these both gods that they should testify if Eming the weapon of HC was involved and they both testified...

With other words MQ and FX are treated like experts regarding the involvement of HC...so they must have battled with him quite often. And both are very afraid of HC...MQ was literally so afraid of HC that his first reaction when he heard of the silver butterflies is running away (in the form of Fu Yao).

I guess nearly dying could be a reason MQ considers HC to be suspicious, above else for XL who was fucked over by a previous calamity...Anybody remembers...white-no-face?

People even from similar backgrounds can have quite literally different living conditions

People are different and they do react differently. Further people love to blame MQ, who used to have clearly less power than XL, because they are not able to understand that all three people have their faults, even the glorious MC Xie Lian, who used to be pretty superficial...and who could have changed HC´s fate easily, but he did not, because HC was not interesting enough to him back them.

HC and MQ are two different sides of the same coin. HC had not the possibilities of MQ, since XL was not interested in him early on and kept forgetting him. MQ has suffered from classism even after he became a god.

[goldenbloodytears]

Do u think Danny would be okay with having his SO be his partner in crime. I feel like it really depends but I think he would be open to it as long as like he was still the one calling the shots you get me? Been thinking about this one all day 😭

An ask in my ask box! Oh boy! Thanks Anon :) So this is actually a concept I've been toying with for a while in relation to the magnum opus fanfic I've had brewing in my head for five years. Gonna put a read more since this got long thanks to my rambling; warning for brief mention of partner murder.

Edit: changed some wording for clarity.

I don't think he would react well to an SO knowing his secret in a regular situation unless he was dead certain this person isn't going to betray him. So, obviously, becoming his partner in crime is going to involve blackmail. If his SO accidentally or purposefully kills somebody? Does some other crime or horrible thing they don't want revealed? That's going to be used. I think there's also just the inherent threat of personal harm... But I don't see him doing that unless pushed into the situation--I think if something did result in the death of the SO he would be sad about it... like very angry sad. Look what you made me do kinda. Like somebody just took a toy away from him. I don't really subscribe to yandere style headcanons for him personally, but I definitely think he is possessive.

Anyways back to my point... I think Danny would enjoy having somebody know. I think it must be lonely and a little isolating the way he lives... and humans are social creatures.

I think when it comes to his SO acting as a partner in crime, doing murders... my personal headcanon on the matter is he's... rather into it? I don't think he would go out of his way to influence somebody into murder/violence (what is he? his old man? lol) but I think there's a kind of... appreciation for a display of strength like that. Even if it was an accident. He's gonna clean the blood of them and it's the most sensual experience he's ever had--his head is gonna SPIN! I actually think he would be completely caught by surprise, like discovering a kink you didn't know you had (I mean that's exactly what it is, let's be real) He's been formed into this person to be okay with violence and it's not something he really gets to share/experience with people. He's not a veteran so he can't share "war stories" of his experiences, the closest he would get to this kind of thing for the average person is maybe hunting... but there's a keen difference in hunting a human than, say, a deer? I think having an SO as a partner in crime would be... like toxic good for him... I'm assuming the SO is a willing partner in crime. I can see him really enjoying somebody gassing up his ego (totally tempted to make a Harley/Joker comparison here). HOWEVER, I do think he would be an absolute pain in the ass about his works, his stories... I don't see him sharing Ghost Face with somebody, so it would be convincing him to either change gears to something else, or putting up with that.

One change I could see happening is having the SO, if they have writing chops or come from a journalism background, taking over the paper-writing/reporting aspect. The original background in-game (not the tome) mentions that some of the articles he's kept were not written by him, so as much as I feel like this is still an imperative part of his modus operandi, it's clear he still takes a nice fat dopamine hit for the sake of his ego from other people writing about him too... and therefore I could see him being flexible with it, because if the SO is his partner in crime, he can still influence what they write--he just doesn't have to work double shifts anymore LOL

Is it too cracked up to make a joke about Danny and his partner-in-crime SO getting a house in some random town and posing as a totally normal man and his spouse by day but then murdering people by night? IDK you decide. I'm kinda just picturing that one song by the Mountain Goats.

[orkbutch]

something something karlach red. red dragon. dragon pet?play with lae'zel.

OOOH, COLOUR ME INTRIGUED! smut beneath the cut >:)

The first compliment Lae’zel had ever given Karlach was right after they’d cut down the devils hunting her. Karlach had flown into a rage, chopped them to burnt bits and nearly torched the whole Toll house they’d set up in. She’d calmed down eventually. But she was still on fire within, reeking of smouldering gore, sweat and sulphur.

Lae’zel had looked at her from head to toe, studious and admiring, and said she was as glorious in her rage as a Kith’rak’s dragon. 

Karlach had been very flattered. Lae’zel was no push over herself. She was ruthlessly efficient in battle, her combat style unlike any Karlach had seen before. Mobile and athletic, and surprisingly beautiful.

Karlach had not expected the dragon comparison to extend as far as it did, however. But here she was, gagged with her wrists bound under her back, being ridden as Lae’zel’s dragon.

The Githyanki was as ferocious in bed as she was in battle. Her clawed fingers raked over Karlach’s chest as she ground her hips hard onto Karlach’s strap. The rolling of her body was firm and graceful, totally controlled. Karlach liked to get her a little desperate, but it was harder like this. Lae’zel’s hands came to the base of Karlach’s throat, and tightened. “Show me your power,” she demanded. “Make me feel the might of Tiamat’s children.”

Karlach planted her feet into the ground, huffed, and thrust her hips hard and abruptly beneath Lae’zel. She set the pace a little faster, to force Lae’zel to match her rhythm. The gith did a kind of hissing gasp, clutching Karlach’s shoulders to keep herself steady. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she sighed, her voice jumping with each thrust into her. Her eyes were fixed on Karlach’s, blown out with pleasure, glinting gold in the low fire light. “Such strength,” she breathed as her hands ran over Karlach’s flexing shoulders, her working abs. “Such a magnificent creature, at my command.”

Karlach groaned raggedly around her gag. She saw Lae’zel close her eyes. A moment of distracted weakness. They were very competitive lovers, and Karlach wasn’t one to let such an opportunity slip.

Karlach lifted her clean from the ground, thrusting into Lae’zel so hard she bounced on Karlach’s hips, and choked on her own pleasured keens. In a motion she’d done several times before, Karlach bucked her off to the side and rolled over her in one fluid movement. She pressed her head into the ground beneath the crook of Lae’zel’s neck, and thrust herself back into her. 

Lae’zel arms and legs wrapped around her hard, her nails biting into the flesh of Karlach’s back as she fucked her into the ground. Her usual keening had broken into ragged moans; she only sounded this way when Karlach was deep and rough, taking her a little past what Lae’zel could receive comfortably. 

“Draas’revrykal,” she managed, her voice thick and near breaking pressed beneath Karlach’s weight. She continued speaking Githyanki into Karlach’s ear as the tiefling pounded her. Karlach had found just the right angle and pace, and was rapidly approaching her own orgasm. 

Karlach must have made some noise that gave her away, because suddenly she had a knee in her gut, and was sprung onto her back again. Lae’zel mounted her like some glorious prized steed. “Not yet, draas’revrykal,” she purred. Her fingers ran over Karlach’s cheek. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[annalu86]

Lunch at Genny’s.

It’s nearly lunch time and Genny is stood at her kitchen counter preparing a meal for her family. She’s watching her boys throw a ball back and forth in the garden, which sounds idyllic but took half an hour of arguing and bribing to get them both to turn off their phones and games. She has some bright and breezy music playing in the background as she chops salad and prepares meat for the BBQ.

Tim, her brother, is coming over. He does this regularly, he’s kept to his promise of being more active in their lives and Genny loves it. From stepping in to coach little league, to Sunday lunches, to actually babysitting for the one, disastrous, date she’d dared to go on since moving to the city.

But today was a little different, today Genny was making a little extra effort. Today was the day Tim was finally introducing her to Lucy. His girlfriend.

Of course Genny had met Lucy several times already, in fact Genny was pretty sure she had already made up her mind what kind of person Lucy was. And she loved her! Anyone who could make her hard nosed brother squirm with a look, stop in his tracks with one touch and make him laugh, really laugh was worth her weight in gold.

Tim had always talked more about Lucy than any other colleague, she’d heard stories of Angela and his watch commander, but Lucy had quickly become a regular feature of their catch up phone calls. Then she had met Lucy and seen the shift in her brother’s behaviour, his desire to be around her. Once she had moved to the city, with Ashley out the picture, she had been amused to see the pair of them trying to hide their obvious affection for each other from her. Then the calls to look after Kujo had started, not just ‘can you drop in and take him for a walk’ during a shift but requests to have him over night. She new he had a dog sitter and only asked her as a last resort and she didn’t mind at all, the boys loved Kujo and it stopped them begging her for a pet for themselves. It was clear he was regularly spending the night away from home, on top of his normal shifts.

So when Genny had called to invite him over for lunch she had been keen to extend the invitation to Lucy but was a little unsure as to how her notoriously private brother would take it.

“Hey Tim, is this a good time?”

“As good as any”

“Perfect, how would you like to come over for lunch on Sunday?”

“Actually that works for me, as long as I can bring the dog?”

“Of course. Actually… as you’ve mentioned bringing someone…”

“Genny?”

“Is there anyone else you’d like to bring?”

“…”

“It’s just an offer, anyone you’d like to bring would be welcome”

“… thanks, I’ll ask.”

“Perfect. Let me know if she has any food preferences, see you both at the weekend!”

And she had quickly hung up the phone.

Genny heard Tim’s truck pull up outside but forced herself to stay in the kitchen and wait for the knock at the door, she was determined not appear too keen. After a couple of minutes she heard hushed voices outside the door and then, eventually a knock. As she swung the door open she was greeted immediately by Kujo’s nose pushing its way forward, she bent to stroke his head and then straightened up, first, into the beaming face of Lucy Chen and then looking up into the serious face of her brother.

Genny took in Lucy’s arm casually looped through Tim’s, the way the woman’s body was turn in towards his. “Hi! Genny thanks so much for inviting us over. I brought garlic bread”

Tim bent down and unclipped the dogs lead, letting him run off in search of the boys in the garden.

“Hi Genny” he lent forward and hugged her briefly, he moved back, placed his hand on Lucy’s lower back and ushered her forward into the house.

Genny welcomed them both in and led the way to the kitchen. She fixed them both drinks and they chatted about work, house renovations and the boys. Genny watched her guests move around each other. The way Lucy’s body turned in his direction as he moved about the kitchen, how his hands moved to touch some part of her whenever she was in reach. The way Tim smiled at Lucy’s endless gentle teasing, no sign of irritation just warmth and affection as he rolled his eyes and chuckled and in return Lucy’s constant good humour. She seemed to find his grumpy demeanour endearing, which Genny new from personal experience was a must if you were going to spend any real time with Tim.

Time had come to put the meat on the grill. Tim stood, passing a plate of kebabs to Lucy and picking up the steaks himself and the pair walked out into the garden. Genny watched her two buys walk over to the couple, they had both met Lucy at Tyler’s little league match and the four quickly struck up an easy conversation. After a few minutes of chatting, whilst Tim loaded up the grill, Lucy moved off into the garden with the boys and they all started playing catch. Tim watched them from the grill, fiddling with the heat before turning a walking back inside the house.

“That’s a mighty big smile you have there big brother” Genny ventured, somewhat bravely.

“It really is great to have you and the boys back”

“Riiight” she earns herself a sharp look from her brother “and it doesn’t have anything to do with your friend? The beautiful, energetic, witty woman, who hangs on your every word and chooses to spend her precious days off playing catch with your nephews?”

“Maybe” to her amazement the gruff exterior melts and she seizes her chance to push his boundaries a little.

“She it, isn’t she?”

He sighs deeply “without doubt.”

“Marriage?”

“If she’ll have me”

“Oh she will, she loves you”

“She does, doesn’t she” and Genny is shocked by the surprise in his voice.

“You’re a pretty great guy”

Their conversation ends quickly as Lucy runs back in to tell Tim it’s probably best he comes to turn the meat as things are getting a little smoky outside.

The rest of the afternoon runs like clockwork, they sit down to eat. Tim asks the boys about school and Lucy picks out their more child friendly adventures to share at the table. The boys practically beg for Lucy to come and throw the ball around with them after the food is cleared away but Genny sends them off. “Uncle Tim and Lucy want to spend some of their day off together boys”

The adults move inside, Genny taking the comfy chair, leaving the couple to the well worn sofa. Tim takes the corner, arm out along the back of the sofa until Lucy folds herself into his side and his arm automatically tucks in around her. Genny gets up to make coffee for herself and Lucy, from the kitchen she watches Tim dip his head and kiss the woman he clearly loves on the forehead. They talk quietly, contentedly. Lucy’s hand touches his chest and Genny turns away. It’s too sweet and innocent and she wants them to have their moment of privacy.

Genny’s guest stay until the end of Lucy’s cup of coffee. Genny offers to have Kujo for the night as thanks for Lucy doing a great job of wearing the boys out and Tim eagerly agrees. As Tim pops to the car to grab some of the dogs supplies Genny takes the opportunity to talk to Lucy alone.

“Thank you so much for having me over” Lucy hugs Genny warmly

“You’re very welcome, don’t wait for that brother of mine to invite you back. You’re welcome here any time. All the Bradford boys love you” and then because she can’t help herself “not just the oldest one” she adds pointedly. Her smiles widens as she watches the colour rise in Lucy’s cheek. “Maybe we could go for lunch?” She asks as Tim walks back through the door with an armful of supplies.

“Only if you bring pictures of teenage Tim!” Lucy playfully jabs him in the ribs

“No” Tim puts both hands on Lucy’s hips and pushes her out the door “it was nice knowing you Genny, sorry it had to end this way” he jokes crossly as Genny blows him a kiss and waves.

She watches them drive off, shuts the door and walks back to her comfy chair. She picks her laptop up off the coffee table and opens the website to her favourite clothes shop, selects dresses and starts browsing “I hope they have a summer wedding” she says to herself as she clicks on a floaty garment “this will be perfect.”

[habit-poxly]

filthy work - simon “ghost” riley

description: ghost has a moment of emotional weakness and invites you over to his flat after a fight. ( ghost’s pov, gender neutral, they/them pronouns, no physical description of you, x reader )

warnings: toxic relationships, smoking, fighting, fluff 

mentions of: drug use, age gap, suicide

word count: 3k

When I look into my eyes in the mirror, I can see the shadows behind those glass bulbs dissolve into a rushing black sea of shame. I'll often avoid catching glimpses of myself in the feeble attempt to put off confronting my cruel reality just a bit longer. The skin that sits atop my flesh, scattered with scars of wounds caused in every way imaginable. The torture in my youth was endless, my father took a keen interest in ensuring I never had a moment of peace. So, I do not, nor have I ever. Except, of course, when I'm with them.

The way their fingers delicately dance across my skin, the way they kiss my scars, the way they run their fingers through my hair, all heal my broken soul in a way no other living being ever could. Initially, I treated my interest in them as an infatuation, a schoolboy crush I could subdue by plunging myself into their core and then rapidly pulling away. Unfortunately, the second their lips met my skin it felt like my heart had been set on fire. After our first night together I found myself spiralling deeper and deeper into the ocean that is them- threatening to submerge me completely. If it was them, I thought, drowning would be something I'd beg for. Something I'd need. 

The moans and shutters I got the pleasure of drawing from them were enough- for a while- but eventually, my mind began to wander. We had shared very few tender moments, something I lamented over often. I almost always leave immediately after we finish having sex, the air always feels poisoned by me somehow, like the sickness that rested in my bones had infected the air in the room. If I'd say id only suffocate them with my rot, and they would pull me under the surface. Staying always forced something out of me, some soft, sensitive part of myself that I was petrified of presenting to anyone, let alone them. But, every once and a while my resolve would fade; I'd watch as a frown tugged at the corners of their mouth as I stood up and would crumble. 

"What does your dream house look like?" Their head was laid on my chest, looking up at me with bright eyes. The question made me pause, the answer truthfully was sappy; a combination of 'Whatever you'd like' and 'I don't care as long as you're there with me.'.

I let out a 'hm', not wanting to ruin the moment- that's something I found myself doing often. It was a habit of mine to accidentally ruin the mood by opening myself up before snapping closed again the second I got uneasy. I had collected more of those memories than I cared to admit, but I had been making an effort to change that- as best as I can. I'd never say that to them, though. What would I say? 'I'm working on not being as big of a piece of shit to you because I love you.' I'd rather be chopped up in Siberia than say that out loud. 

"Something far away, middle o' nowhere. Big land, small house." My voice was noticeably horse, something that had always made them shiver. Their index finger began tracing small shapes onto the exposed skin of my chest. At that moment I felt lucky they hadn't been laying their head above my heart- they differently would have heard how fast it got when they began tracing love hearts. Something like this a few months ago, so sickeningly homely, would have been unimaginable- might have even made me gag. 

They hum before leaning up and planting a soft kiss on my lips. 

"All alone?" They had muttered, the question genuine in its phrasing yet still leaving something unsaid. 

No. Not all alone. For a moment I wanted to whisper out how deeply I needed them, how they infected me and how it wouldn't be fair to leave me suffering- struggling to breathe without them kissing life into my battered body. Yet, the words always seem to lodge in my throat, my body throwing itself into panic. 

They can always sense when my mood shifts, never pushing any further. 

The memory ends with me wordlessly leaving them lying alone in bed, that night cruelly ending the same as every other. 

Normally, we both do our fair part in avoiding conflict with each other, but tonight had been different for them somehow. The words I had flung at them had been completely meaningless to me, all being dragged out of me by the anger I've struggled my entire life to control. I had always hoped they knew that. Despite me never saying it, I desperately hoped they knew I didn't mean it. On the other hand, the words they would say, full of care and unconditional love would burn themselves into my heart forever. 

It had started off simple enough but quickly rolled downhill into a complete mess. 

"I just want to know what we are, Simon. I can't keep stringing myself along like this!" They were trying their best not to cry as my form towered over them. I know it's cruel to push them away and then run back to them, especially at the frequency I do it, but no matter how hard I try I can't seem to stop myself from sabotaging my relationship with them. 

"It's just sex." I had told them harshly, I remember feeling unbearable pain tug at my chest when tears finally fell from their eyes. They staggered a breath in- more than a few tears fall down the glowing flesh of their cheek, threatening to break me completely. 

"I was very clear with you about that from the beginning. I always told you all I ever wanted out of you was sex." I was correct, I had told them that, too many times to count. At no point had I ever meant it. In my heart, I've always wanted them. But I would never say that. Never out loud. I wasn't built to, no part of my body was put together with love. I can't. 

"I thought I was changing your mind!" Their voice cracked and faltered, silently weeping. I had never heard a sentence spoken more broken, more emotionally shattered. I had justified- in some twisted way- pushing them away in this manner as me protecting them from getting hurt- and me taking them back as the selfish part, but this clearly had hurt them more than anything else I could have done. 

Those were the words that forced me out the door, the words that buried themselves into my heart when it spilled from their lips. I hadn't thought of a time in years when a sentence had caused me to shake so violently- or one that had crushed my spirit so completely.  

Staring into my flats bathroom mirror I note the deep bags under my eyes, ones that have resided in their spots for decades, seem slightly darker now. I wanted to call her, the phone sat unlocked- waiting- on the counter in front of me, but I couldn't manage to work up the courage to do it. No amount of bourbon seems to assist in writing out a coherent apology to send over text, absolutely shocking. 

They had changed my mind, and long before they thought they had begun the process of doing so. 

All I wanted was them. 

I wanted a little house on a big property with them, with shutters and a nice porch where we could smoke together. A cat, maybe a dog too, we name them together. A kitchen they design, one they feel comfortable slow dancing in together. We'd have a pool table and a mini bar in the basement, we get drunk and play pool, I'd show off and make them giggle while leaving sloppy kisses on their shoulders. They'd bring light to the dark world I've been trapped in my entire life and I'd finally be able to breathe. 

"Fuck." I grumble before reaching for my phone, all my resolve disappearing. 

My flat had always been strictly off limits in our 'situationship' as they jokingly referred to it once. Our meetings would almost always take place either on base, at their flat, or in a hotel room. Initially, I hadn't allowed them over because I was trying to be as impersonal with us having sex as possible, but even as that became something that wasn't the case I still never invited them over. It had become more about me being embarrassed about how empty my life was than anything else. 

The walls of my flat were bare. No clean clothes were ever folded and put away- they would sit on top of the drier until the washing needed to be done again. I had three plates, two bowls, 1 mug, 4 normal glasses, and 8 liquor glasses, all of which have only ever been used by myself. It was always a bit messy, but only ever with my gear, booze bottles, or cigarette ash; which consists of almost everything I own. 

I hadn't wanted anyone to know how barren my life was, but as I poured myself a fifth glass of bourbon my insecurity faded with my sobriety. 

'I'll do it as quickly as possible' I drunkenly whisper. My thumb presses on their message contact in my phone. When they put it in they had put their name as a little text face, I had snatched my phone away and changed it to something formal in front of them- but the second they were out of my sight I had changed it back. I was their Lieutenant, not just a hook-up regardless of anything else; yet I still found it cute enough to keep to myself. 

They've been ' :3 ' in my phone for weeks. 

Taking another sip I attach the link for my address before pressing send. It was the most I could manage. 

Immediately the amount of booze I drank is not enough. 

'Read' pops up under the message only a few seconds after it delivers, making every hair on my body stand on end. I fucking hate that I turned that on now. The grey bubble to indicate that they're typing pops up for an unbearable amount of time, minutes on end before disappearing completely. 

I feel my heart pounding through my entire body- they'd be right to not respond, or to respond with a heart-wrenching, suicide-inducing paragraph about how big of a piece of shit I am. After what felt like an eternity of radio silence I get a response. 

"give me 20" 

It felt like a bomb went off in my chest. There was not a soul before them that could have made me flustered, made me blush like a 6-year-old boy getting a kiss from his crush. Somehow they managed to reduce my massive form to a heap in front of them and yet never pass judgment. My scars to them are part of me, my damage is something not to push away, but something they hold tenderly for me to help ease how much weight is on my shoulders. 

I didn't think people like them actually existed. Someone who would hold the world up for me regardless of me having never said thank you, regardless of me pushing them away. I took their heart, tore off a piece and handed it back to them no longer whole- and still, they rub my back and kiss my neck. I couldn't imagine a human being was capable of being so divine. 

Another swig of bourbon makes its way down my throat, generously subduing the overpouring of emotions bubbling in my stomach. 

Rushing around my flat I pick up a few things off the ground, make my bed, and hide the countless empty bourbon bottles under the sink. There's nothing I can do at the moment about how depressing this place looks, or the lingering smell of cigarettes and mid-life crisis. Their flat was a stark contrast to mine, making the anxiety seep its roots deeper into my gut. Part of me wondered if the dated furniture and my drunken, desperate demeanour would be off-putting. I strain to pull my mask over my face in anticipation of their arrival, it'll most likely come off the second I feel like I gained some confidence. 

Staring at the clock I wonder why I've even done this. They'll come here expecting change, expecting me to crawl back a different person. For them, I would try. I would work so hard to please them that It could kill me, but I know myself well enough to know I can't promise to be better. 

I had only really opened up to them once, drunkenly pouring out how I felt like there was no good in me. Like all I had been through had created deep cracks in my soul that let everything good fall out. I held onto their hands tightly, my eyes to the ground. Every part of me had been screaming that I shouldn't have, that they would think of me poorly, as weak and leave. But, of course, they didn't. They would never. They ran their hands through my hair and rubbed my back, whispering words of comfort that I had never had directed at me before. 

My eyes fixated on the stove clock, these are no doubt the most agonizing 20 minutes of my life. I've been beaten, burned, thrown out of helicopters and hung up by my rips, and this is the most unbearable moment of my life- second only to the countless other times I've made them miserable. 

I pace back and forth, pouring and downing yet another drink. I've always had a drinking problem- well, a substance abuse problem in general. 

"With your smoking habit, I'm surprised you're almost 50 and have both your lungs!" They had said to me teasingly during some patrol on base once. I was rather quick to remind them that 45 is not 'almost 50'. Our age gap has always worried me, I'm able to keep up with what they want but it often made me feel like an old man.

More and more anxiety settles in as the 20-minute mark comes and goes, my eyes move from the clock to my phone- waiting for any sort of indication that they were standing me up.

Three soft knocks at my front door shut down all thoughts of them not showing up. Without thought, I move to the door and swing it open, desperate to look down into those oceans of eyes once again- to breathe. They almost always bring me something when they see me- joints, booze, cigars, some weird chip flavour they saw at the store, anything- I've never been sure why; so it was no surprise to see a clear plastic bag sitting in one of their hands. We stand there, my frame blocking the entrance to the flat. I adore the way they look up at me, eyes clearly tired from the hoops I've dragged them through today, yet still managing to make my head spin. 

"Hi" They break the silence, their voice timid and unsure. I move to the side and motion them in. They take off their shoes and place them neatly off to the side. I think about the boots that had been lying there on the floor haphazardly just minutes before, it drawing a small smirk from me. 

"Nice flat." It was a rather expected comment, but it still brought heat to my face. I shrug. 

"I'm never here." I respond a bit too quickly, causing them to raise an eyebrow. This was a lie, I'm exclusively here when I'm not on deployment. I suppose if I downplay how often I'm here it'll make the lack of possessions less freakish. Especially considering I'm an adult man and not a broke college kid. 

They pause, their face contorting into confusion for a second before faltering to unimpressed. 

"You're hammered." They said sternly, no doubt now smelling my drink of choice whisking off me. They wander over to my kitchen island and place the bag on top of it. 

"I needed.." I pause, unsure if I should finish my sentence. 

"I needed to talk to you." 

A deep sigh leaves their lips before they rub their hands over their face, stress dripping off them like water. With their face still buried in their palms, they nod- the gift of their continued presence one that I welcomed. 

Their eyes turn up at me, peering holes through my flesh and looking deep into the foundation of my soul. 

"I... I can't stop thinking about our fight, love." My fingers itched to be interlocked with theirs, it was like some part of me was tethered to them- and no matter what I did, it always pulled me into them. I study their face, their mouth somehow dropping even more at the events mention. My words lodge in my throat again, causing a familiar panic to settle over my body. Their eyes flicker over my mask, they had always expressed how pissed off it would make them when I wore it during 'personal' moments. But, It was my safety net- they always respected that.  

They suck a deep breath in before reaching for my hand- as if they could read my mind. I let them take it, their thumb rubbing soothing circles over the meat of my palm. 

"You did change my mind-" I mutter, just loud enough for them to hear. It felt desperate to let spill, like a sobbing prayer for mercy. 

"From the moment you set foot into my eye line, you're all I've been able to think about." 

A soft, comforting smile plants itself across their lips, their hand coming to meet my masked cheek. 

"Will you be able to tell me all this when you're sober?" Their voice hummed through my skull. 

Quickly, I scoff and chuckle before responding with a swift 'no'. With a tired look in their eyes, they chuckle with me and pull me into a hug. My arms wrap around their frame and after a few moments, we begin rocking back and forth. It was wholesome and loving, overwhelmingly so. Maybe this was worth it, even if they can't handle me forever. 

"Do you love me?" I blurt out. The prospect of being in love with them had been so unbelievable that for a period of time I had refused to even think of the word. It became quickly apparent during our semi-regular night meet-up sessions that I was beyond madly in love.

It was clear they liked me, and maybe they did love me; I've always convinced myself overwise though. 

"I love you." They respond, their words are spoken into my chest sending shocks through my body. I grip them hard, those words still unable to leave my throat to return how I feel. I hoped there was an understanding between us that I did love them- as much as I'm possibly capable of. 

My hand grips the top of my mask before tearing it off. I plant my lips on theirs, trying my best to be gentle, something I had never done while kissing them before. It was sloppy at first, my face half numb from the booze- but eventually, we settled into it. Their arms wrap around my neck as my hands meet their waist. This was far from the first time my lips danced haphazardly across theirs, yet it felt like it for some reason. My ears were buzzing, my face red and hot, my heart swelling with a feeling I'll never be able to articulate. 

They pull back, letting both their hands slide to the sides of my cheeks. Looking at them, I've never felt more peace, more hope for our future, possibly together. 

"It'll be hard, filthy work- loving me." My eyes dart across their features, stunned.

"I don't care-" They respond, no hesitation to be found in their voice. Their fingers brush across my cheek leaving me a mess. 

"Not as long as it's you." 

[salamandergoo]

I'm having sad Steve feelings tonight, here's a scenario:

Murray meeting Steve who, isn't quite yet in a relationship with Jonathan and Nancy. They've been skirting around it, and Steve doesn't know how to bridge that gap with them. Has been so afraid of their little moments together, meaning more to him than to them. and Murray recognizes him from past conversations says an approximation of the line "we like Steve but we don't LOVE Steve" and there's recognition on Jon and Nancy's eyes and Steve just feels gutted.

God okay I’ve been thinking about this all day. I just love this because the bone deep mortification of it all…

I’m picturing this as post season 4, all hands on deck kind of thing. Everyone is not doing so hot, but they’re stockpiling resources and waiting with bated breath for a hint of what’s to come. Steve is keeping himself busy with chores, maybe it’s his house being used as a bunker, miraculously untouched by the cracks across Hawkins, there’s even running water! The heating is spotty, but a cold shower is better than none.

Jonathan and Nancy are… well, things are going with them. Secret kisses and desperately gripping to each other like they might be torn apart. This can go one of two ways. Either it does mean the same thing to them as it does to Steve. Or, well, it doesn’t. Let’s play with this.

Steve is doing okay. He could be better, but that’s the nature of the end of the world. His house is full and he can’t decide if he likes it or not, it’s such a contrast to even a few weeks ago when his biggest concern was waking up on time to drive Robin to school and remembering to keep the kitchen stocked. Now there’s people he doesn’t know that well coming and going at all hours, he’s not even sure how many people have a key.

One good thing is the proximity to Jonathan and Nancy. He’d been in a weird place with both of them, drifting in and out of their space, dancing around lingering feelings. He’s pretty sure he talked to Jonathan just as much if not more than Nancy when they were in Lenora. But now they’re both here in his house and he can’t hide from it, even if he wanted to.

He and Jonathan are sharing a room for now, Jonathan spending most mornings tucked in close to him and snoring against his shoulder in the hour between patrols and watches. They have freedom to kiss and touch and relax with each other. And Nancy will join them on the occasions where she’s free too, a tangle of limbs and mouths and hands.

Sometimes it’s just him and Nancy, paired up for supply runs and patrols. He’s got fond memories of being pinned to trees in the woods behind his house or making out in alleys of the dilapidated Main Street.

He’s kept pretty busy, everyone who is physically capable is pretty busy. There’s no real time to have an actual talk. Even the mornings, they’re all so exhausted it rarely goes past heavy petting. Even on patrols-

Okay, well, maybe there’s time for it, but none of them are too keen on being vulnerable, not when there’s so much at stake, when your darkest thoughts are weapons pointing at your throat at all times.

Between Steve, Argyle, and Hopper’s weird friend who Steve hasn’t yet met formally (he was there after the Russians- during- his memory is hazy), they’re keeping everyone fed. Every meal needs to be enough to feed a small army, the kitchen is in constant use. It becomes Steve’s escape when his head is too loud, there’s always something to chop or simmer or prepare.

It’s an unassuming night when it happens, as unassuming as things can be when monsters lurk and the ground glows orange and the hall threat of the end of the world looms a little closer every passing moment. Steve is in the living room getting his ass kicked at checkers by Nancy, Jonathan is napping on the couch with his legs thrown on Argyle’s lap, and they can hear some of the teens outside with Hopper for what was supposed to be melee weapons training but has clearly turned to a game of tag. It’s almost peaceful. So Steve supposes he should’ve seen it coming.

Nancy triple jumps to get a piece to the other side of the board, sitting pretty with seven checkers to Steve’s measly three. She’s smiling so bright, brighter than he’s seen in awhile, and he can’t bring himself to be too upset about the game. He doesn’t hear the footsteps or the creaking of the recliner diagonally behind him or the snort of Jonathan waking. He does hear the clearing of a throat, it has him sitting bolt upright and knocking out-of-play checkers off the coffee table. “What’s all this, then?”

Steve looks warily over his shoulder at Hopper’s friend- no, Murray, his name is Murray. Steve was never the best with names, but he’s trying his best, okay? He eyes the glass of clear liquid in Murray’s hand and knows it’s from his fathers liquor cabinet, he was sure he’d locked the office though…

“Just some checkers,” is Nancys airy response, her focus hardly wavers as she looks at Steve, waiting for him to make his move. But Murray’s state feels heavy, he doesn’t like that it’s so focused on him.

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything, Murray leaning in like he’s inspecting Steve for something. He tries to lean away, but between his still-healing wounds and the awkward positioning of his body between the coffee table and the couch, there’s nowhere he can push his body. A hand touches his shoulder and he recognizes Jonathan’s touch, the warmth of the pad of his thumb slipping under the collar of his shirt. His heart is racing, but the hand is grounding.

“Steve.”

“Um.” He blinks at Murray. The man seems smug in a way that has Steve’s skin crawling. It feels like when his dad’s business friends leer at him and act like they know him. “Yes? I- did you need something?” He’s poised to stand up, coiled and tense like a spring.

“You’re an interesting character, my friend.”

“Not your friend,” he mumbles, leaning into the grounding touch of Jonathan.

“You know, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Haven’t seen much. A very busy bee, aren’t you? Always carting the children around and doing your damnedest to stay out of this house.”

Was that true? He doesn’t think he’s trying to stay out of the house. He just needs to stay busy, stay useful. Needs to help. “I don’t think-“

“It’s interesting. I had some spare time and did some digging, and you, Steven Richard Harrington, are an interesting one.” Murray leans forward and Steve wants to scramble over the coffee table to get away, can feel the weight of a thousand eyes on him. “It’s not the first time your name has come up.”

“Okay…?” Steve pulls his own gaze away and busies his hands with picking up the knocked over checkers, regrettably pulling away from Jonathan’s hand as he rubs his thumb over the textured edge of one. He spares a glance at Nancy, who is eyeing Murray suspiciously. “Did you want something from me?”

“Last time I checked, you and Miss Wheeler had gone your separate ways. Seemed like she and Byers over there were pretty comfortable.”

“Murray-“ Nancy tries.

“Seemed to me you were just an obstacle.”

“A… What?” Steve does push himself back this time, digs his heels into the floor and leans back, the table moving across the carpet. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You weren’t what she wanted or needed, you were convenient. You looked like what she was supposed to want. Good looking and popular, but nothing behind the pretty face. She liked you, but it didn’t go deeper.”

“Hey-“

“I’m just curious about what changed. Does she really love you this time? Or are you just filling space during the apocalypse? An easy way to keep the bed warm when the heat is on the fritz?”

Steve isn’t going to cry. He’s been tortured, beaten, chewed on, dragged, and covered in blood that wasn’t his own. He did all of that without crying and he isn’t going to let the way his eyes sting affect him. He blinks hard a few times and looks at Nancy. She doesn’t look back, but she’s staring at the ground, something akin to fury beginning to take hold. Jonathan isn’t looking at him either, but his jaw is working the same way it did three and a half years ago before he threw a punch. “I don’t know,” Steve whispers. He doesn’t want to look at Murray. “I just thought-“

“Shut up.” Nancy’s voice is like a blade, and for a second, Steve thinks he’s been cleaved in two. But then Jonathan’s warm palm rests on the back of his neck, fingers a little stiff as they curl around the curve of his neck. “Not- not you, Steve.” She stood up and in two strides she was practically standing over him, the hem of her skirt touching his arm. “Don’t pretend to know us, Bauman. You were right once, but that doesn’t make you omnipotent, it’s makes you some weird shut-in who had a little too much to say to a couple of teenagers a few years ago. Steve is… a very valued member of this team. He is a loyal and kind-hearted man, he’s… he’s more than you’ll ever find out from snooping through his house!”

She’s… protecting him. Physically shielding him. And be even feels safe, wants to reach out and touch her leg, just to feel a modicum of her strength.

“We love him.” Jonathan’s voice is soft, he doesn’t raise it unless he thinks he has to. “I don’t care what you had to say about him then or now. He’s changed since then, we’ve changed since then. And now we do love him. So you can back off.” He huffs and lays back down, though his arm stays stretched out to keep his hand on Steve. “Now quiet down so I can go back to sleep, I’m exhausted.”

Murray doesn’t say anything after this, just lifts his gaze away from Steve to look at Nancy. He can’t see her face, but he sees the way Murray lifts an eyebrow before shrugging. He’s still looking, but Nancy huffs and sits back down on the opposite side of the table. “Come on.” Her voice is a little softer and she nudges Steve’s leg under the coffee table. “It’s your move.”

“Um… right.” Steve turns back to the checkers game and just moves one of his pieces without really looking at it. “…I love you too. By the way,” he says quietly.

She jumps his piece easily. “I know.” Her lips quirk in a small smile, and when he looks over his shoulder, Murray has gotten up and walked away.

[madeleinelovescolours]

Fav SH scene?

ooo I think I have three I really like when you're playing a talks-to-animals MC in ep4, and get to talk to the pastor about it. I know that Dustin and Gretchen are the main draw for picking TTA as a trait, but I think the real reward is having the pastor open up to you and tell you the creepy details. His character really fascinates me, because he seems like such a nice guy and I just know there's something hinky going on. and I like drinking soda with Tabitha in ep3, provided she likes you enough to open up. Especially on my street-smart/keen-eye playthrough. I just want to make her soup and take her to the beach like she deserves and, I really like when you break into the clinic, paw at the wall, and Reese, despite just waking up, grabs you an axe to chop down a wall in his own house. Let him have enrichment time in his enclosure

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

So my last Animal Crossing poll, which Marshal won by a hair, got me thinking. I’d have to BUY Marshal because I don’t have his Amiibo on hand, and that gave me pause. I’ve bought so many AC Amiibo cards already that it almost became an addiction.

But then it hit me: I have a bunch of cards! So instead of spending money, and to make up for the other poll being tossed out, I have a new week-long poll to have you all decide who the REAL last boy on the island will be from out of the cards I have! The winner will join the island after my vacation!

Beneath the cut I will make the case for each of these choices! In addition, here is my current island roster:

Ankha

Barold

Beardo

Cephalobot

Marina

Muffy

Petri

Roscoe

Ruby

Tiansheng

1. Julian is genuinely one of the prettiest smug villagers, as well as one of my favorites overall. He’s a feminine male unicorn with slick style and one of the cooler houses among the mythical creature villagers. Plus I have a perfect spot for his house: A field of flowers on a seaside cliff.

2. Hans was my first smug villager, and has come and gone off my islands more times than I can count. He’s an absolute Chad, a buff yeti boy with style who unironically says “groovy” as his catchphrase. He’d also be a unique animal unlike most other choices.

3. Dobie is the best wolf in the game. He’s a cranky old grandpa, AND he’s a writer (meaning he’s literally me). The only downsides I can think of is I can’t ship his wrinkly ass with anyone, and that my daughter really seems to not like the wolves in this game (they scare her I think).

4. Pietro is da Jokah, baybee! He’s one of the most colorful characters around, and his clown style almost makes up for how awful his house is compared to his house in New Leaf. Almost.

5. I’m not too keen on another jock joining my island (Tiansheng is more than enough), but come on! It’s Kevin Bacon! Plus his catchphrase is “Weeweewee!”

6. Drago needs little elaboration as to why he’s cool: He’s a fat, lazy dragon who likes to eat and whose house looks like a Chinese restaurant. He’d make a good buddy/boyfriend to Tiansheng, I think.

7. Sasha is basically the ultimate femboy twink of the game, and he’s a bunny! He’s also the only male character with the fashion hobby! It is a bit weird hearing the himbo slob dialogue coming out of his mouth, though.

8. The underdog of the bunch. Elvis is the only character I have a card for who has never been on my island. He has a really cool house and he’d be a unique animal (there’s no other lion).

9. I love Cephalobot. I know I’m trying to vote him off, but he is a good buddy and he is cute. I guess I’m not opposed to keeping him for now.

10. There are other villagers I like who I could easily time travel for like Raymond, Chops, or Tucker. This would be first come, first served; whoever I like most that pops up first gets in.

[bowandcurtsey]

hi aine!! i had a prompt idea!

nozel, fue, and yuno with their personal royal knight that is sworn to protect them! and maybe they learn to love their royal knight? have fun with it!!

also don’t feel pressured to do it, as a writer myself i totally understand if your swamped or not getting inspiration!! i love you and your work!! thank you so much babes <333

Hello I'm back guys!! hehe! thank you for waiting this long for an update! I had a really hectic June, but I'm back to fufilling all them request and preparing for an event soon!

I love this prompt ahhhhh!! 💕 Personal royal knight sounds so cute and thank you Hange for this refreshing request hehe.

Characters: Nozel | Fuegoleon | Yuno x f! reader TW: fluffy, unchecked work

Nozel Silva

He was initially hesitant to be protected by a female knight. But he didn't want to look like he was a sexist, so he agreed to it and decided that he would dismiss you if any problem arose.

But from day one you were proven to be a complete Nozel Silva loyal fan. It was as if your world revolved around him; you would immediately jump to his defence if any one spoke ill of him, you would always save food for him when he was late for meal times and you'll always keep a lookout for any stranger that got too close to him.

You went with him on every mission, even his roundings and patrolling duties. You almost never left his side, as you would escort him everywhere from the moment he stepped out of his house and all the way till he went back in.

Soon, Nozel found it convenient to promote you to his personal assistant as well, so you took care of even more things, from his schedules, meetings, organising his documents, ordering lunch, making tea, you've got it all.

Everyone wonders how to do all of it and some say that you don't have a life of your own. Nozel hears them but pays no heed to them. He gives you your day off but you still spend your day around him.

On the battle field, Nozel never had to worry about you. You always knew what to do. You took care of any citizens and brought them to safety so Nozel could focus on fighting. You would always have his back and watch out for any other intruders sneaking up on him whilst he fought his opponents. When there were many enemies, you would fight with him, side by side, back to back and you both had great chemistry.

He never realised how much he adored you, until one day someone called you Nozel's little dog.

"You're just the royal's little golden retriever!" he mocked at you and Nozel almost chopped his head in half. To him, you were much more than that, you were already like his significant other that he couldn't live without now.

He was so angry throughout the day and when he went home and started to relax in his usual chair, he starting to think about why was he so upset and then he thought about how he thought of dismissing you before you even joined him.

It was then he knew, there wouldn't be anyone for him other than you. He would never want anyone else besides you.

Fuegoleon Vermillion

He was intrigued when Mereo hired you as a bodyguard for him. He knew his sister has a keen judgement so he was looking forward to meet you.

Of course he had his doubts in the beginning. He didn't need another knight to protect him, but since his sister had already went ahead with all the arrangements, and it was usually futile to argue with Mereo, he just decided to go ahead with it.

On your first meet, you were enthusiastic and optimistic and you pledged your loyalty to him, swearing to protect him on the battlefield.

On your first week, you broke 2 mugs, forgot to lock the office doors, tripped over the carpet and spilled your food over the lunch room table.

Fuego really wondered how a klutz like you could ever be his bodyguard. More like he had to be your bodyguard.

Whilst you were both doing some rounds in the city one day, a gang fight erupted, sending the citizens in panic. You beat all the little gangsters up like you were clearing out the trash.

Fue looked at you, impressed. From that day onwards he saw you in another light. He found it really amusing how you could be a total stumblebum on normal and daily chores, but when you fought, you were like a total different person.

The Crimson Lion captain found himself wanting to get to know you more. And as he talked to you often, he found the way you were clumsy really cute. Although people found you intimidating whenever you fought, Fue thought you were really beautiful and charming.

Of course it didn't take him long to change your job from his bodyguard to his significant other.

Yuno Grinberryall

Yuno never wanted a personal royal knight. Having Bell around is already annoying enough. He was a private and carefree person, so he didn't like the idea of someone following him around where ever he goes.

But since he was badly injured during the spade kingdom fight, his body gave way out of nowhere one day. The doctors said it was because his body was not fully healed internally and would need some time to recover from the "shock" his organs suffered. And since it would take awhile to recover, Captain Vangeance insisted that he should have a bodyguard, just in case his body suddenly gave way, or else Yuno would be banned from missions.

Well, given no choice, he had to take you in. He never bothered that you were a female, to your surprise. Many people would give the questioning look, especially men. You found out later that it's solely because Yuno just trusted his Captain's judgement.

Yuno never paid much attention to you initially. Only giving simple orders such as, "we're leaving." "stop here." "you can be dismissed now."

But it was as though your warmness melted this cold ice berg. You always got an extra drink for him during lunch breaks. Sometimes you would prepare his coat for him, telling him he has to keep warm to protect his body that was still recovering. You always reminded him to have enough water.

Soon enough, Yuno would start greeting you. "good morning, y/n." and at the end of the day, he would thank you, "thank you for the hard work today, y/n. see you tomorrow."

Bell liked you as well, because you always made pretty clothes for her when you helped Yuno repair his clothes. Sometimes you even made tiny shoes for her. This amazed Yuno, because bell seldom liked another female around him.

Slowly, Yuno opened up to you, asking whether you had your meals and reminding you eat your dinner when you got home.

It was during a particularly tricky mission that Yuno truly changed his perspective of you. A Supposedly easy mission turned complicated, as you both unraveled an enemy's base. You were both badly outnumbered and even though Yuno was strong, he has not fully recovered.

But you stood on your ground, calm and composed. You fought with grace and speed, at the same time covering Yuno so that he did not have to make much effort. Although you were not comparable to Yuno when he was at his 100%, you were not a push-over as well.

Yuno smiled to himself, truly understanding his captain's decision to assign you to him.

You knocked the enemy out and decided to make a run for it, since you both did not know how many more of them were in there. You grabbed Yuno's hand and flew away at top speed.

As you giggled at how funny the situation was, there was just a switch in Yuno that flicked. He began to see you in a whole new perspective and light.

When Yuno was back to 100% in mere months, it was time for you both to part ways. As you thanked Yuno for his time, telling him it was your honour to have served him and that you'll always be rooting for him as his fan, Yuno stopped you in your tracks before you left.

"Could I take you out on a date then? As thanks to helping me for the past months."

The rest was history.