#TO THE TWO OF THEM HAVING THEIR PRIVATE CONVERSATION

[1lovehanni]

Fun in Fanmeet (Minju of ILLIT)

Minju x Male Reader (Y/N) Wort count: 2087 words Summary: A fan meeting leads to a fun experience for you.

You have been a fan of Minju ever since RU next; the way she has the visual and talent of a perfect idol is what captured your heart.

She has a unique voice, is a wonderful dancer, has a great personality, and lastly, has a gorgeous visual.

She indeed has such K-actress beauty that if she had pursued her acting career rather than her idol career, she would still flourish.

You’ve been playing the Super Real Me album 24/7, thinking of how this group started from being a nobody to a hit with their title song Magnetic. Eventually, a fanmeet has been announced in their official Twitter account. Reading through it, you saw a chance of having a one-on-one conversation with a member, but it was a random draw during the event. Nonetheless, the important part is to attend your favourite group and meet Park Minju. After the 150th album you just bought, you finally got a ticket for the fanmeet. A week has passed, and the day of the fanmeet is here. You’ve dressed as well as you can. You arrived early to the venue and chatted with some fans. And patiently waited for the fan meet to begin.

After some time, a staff member walked to the stage and announced that the fan meet was about to begin. Excitement rises in yourself; you're about to see Minju in real life. A loud cheer as the members each slowly walk. Yunah was dead gorgeous; same with Iroha and Moka. Then there’s the cutest Wonhee, but your eyes fixated on your princess, the queen of your dreams, the one and only Minju. The flower crown on her head makes her an angel that comes down from heaven to save you. Nonetheless, the fanmeet is starting with their hit song Magnetic. After that, they introduced themselves. Doing challenges, literally being themselves. Two hours have passed, everyone still has the energy to cheer, and the girls are still entertaining. But every event has to come to an end; eventually they draw the winner for the one-on-one convo. Since there are a lot of fans who attended, you thought that there's no chance you can win one, let alone win for Minju. But as the staff was picking the winner for Minju, they called in the person, but they had already left, so they redrawn again. This time, luck had come to you when they called your name.

Y/N is selected for Minju; please come right to the stage. You're dazzled by the announcement, and fans near you congratulate you for winning. You followed the instructions to come near the stage. They gave the five winners an envelope with the time and place where they could have a chit-chat with the idols. 

For you, the time is from 10pm to 12 midnight; you thought it's kind of late for a fan meet. It feels like a date for you, which isn't a bad thing but suspicious nonetheless. And the meeting place is private, which makes sense since it's a one-on-one conversation. Arriving at the place, it seems so empty—just 2 bodyguards and 1 staff member. You greeted them and handed them the invitation. Welcome Sir. Y/N, congratulations! Enjoy your date with Minju. ? Huh, did I hear you right? They didn’t talk after that. You entered the place and saw a table for two with a couch right next to it. You didn't mind the place, but suspicion arises since you haven't heard anything for the past 5 minutes. Walking to the door, you noticed the bodyguards and the staff left. You heard footsteps walking toward the door. You instantly hide as if a murderer is on you. The door opened, and a girl walked in. Where’s the guy? Minju said,Umm hi! "Shock.” OMG, why are you there? Ugh, I thought someone was about to kill me. So you won the draw? Yes, I did. I am Y/N, btw, and sorry to startle you. Haha, no worries; it kind of seems like a dark place, right?

Yes, it is.

You two casually just talked to each other for half an hour. You noticed she texted her staff to bring the food. This is fun—she said, Oh, yeah, different from a normal fan meet. Yeah, um, I just noticed my staff for the food; I'm getting hungry. Are you not? Oh, before I got here, I had already eaten. The staff knocked on the door to deliver the food for the two of you. Thank you! Miss Minju, text again if you need something. Both of you munch the food the staff delivered, and deep inside of you is screaming as to how you got to eat with Minju. 

After eating, she asked, Do you have a girlfriend or something? No, not at the moment, but you did have? An ex? Ye That's perfectPerfect? Well, I don't know if you're keeping up all this time. But you haven't just won a date with me; something else is better. Something else? Think Y/N; you're running out of time. Your head is full of confusion; you cannot think straight about what Minju just said. A lot of things are going on in your head. As you think, she stood up and got to the couch. Well, if you can't think of what I am referring to, you won't experience it. This just added to your confusion. Minutes passed, and you still can't think of what she's referring to. But then it hit. Is she giving a massage perk? I think I got it. Finally, you got it! But shouldn’t it be a flat bed rather than a couch? Huh? What? Are you thinking of massaging? Well, I can’t think of any. Ugh, you're too innocent but cute too. I like you, Y/N. But this isn't okay; it’s not massaging. Well,  it involves massaging, but in a special way, and you're the massagist. Huh? Me? Are you saying random things? Did the food make you think less? Shibal, I can’t take you anymore. It’s so simple yet you can’t get to it. Sorry, it’s just my first time, okay? I don't usually go to Fanmeets. It’s my first time too. Ugh, fine, since you only have an hour with me, I’ll do it. What are you going to do? Have fun, fun with you. Ugh, Y/N, I want you to fuck me here. That’s the prize you won; you won me for 2 hours, babe. What are you on? Are you really Minju? She then pinned you down on the couch, like the captured food of a predator.

This is what you won; I am your prize. So get it now before your time runs out. Min... Minju, I don’t see you like that; I like you but not like this. Why are you so cute? You're making me regret this.What? She then slowly removes her clothes—the white dress and her safety shorts—leaving her in her underwear. You're perplexed by the sight you're seeing. She then goes close to you and unbuttons your shirt. Please be gentle, you said to her. She mirks, going for your mouth. Feeling her dessert to you. You just follow what she desires in you. You alright, she asked. Eyep, I am fine. Strip me, touch my body. Y/N, you earned it. Okay, just like that, good boy. You have a silky smooth skin, Minju. I never imagined this. You’re really my fan, right? You mentioned you watched me in RU next Yes, I am Alright, I am gonna suck your dick now Um, okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise She takes off your pants and briefs. Showing your hard cock to your favourite idol She was shocked by the length and girth you have. Wow, you're so big. 

Thank you, I guess.

You gasped from the way she grabbed your rod, spitting on it as a makeshift lube. Slowly jaculating your dick. You are in ecstasy as seconds pass; you feel like you’re going to cum from just a handjob. Ugh, Minju slows down a bit. Am I reaching it already? I guess it's because of me. She slowed down a bit, but this time using her mouth. She kisses your tip, slurping her own spit on it. Tasting your pre-cum is like juice. She then takes it and swallows slowly, inch by inch, in her mouth. How is she good at this? You asked yourself. You thought this was why they'd debuted; they probably got used by the higher-ups. But you cleared that in your mind; you just thought of what is happening at the moment. Slurp.” Hmmm, I love your cock, Y/N. Its so big and juicy. I am glad you like it. I am getting close to it. She swallows all of it while looking at you, having the begging eyes like she's not satisfied. Alright, time to fuck me now, Y/N. You’re special since this is my first time with a fan. Are you not a virgin anymore? She nods, then gets up to align her freshly shaved pussycat with your dick. You feel your body losing strength as it enters the heavens of Minju. Oh my god, you’re so tight. I can’t believe I am inside you, Minju. Just like that, do you like it? Yes, I am getting comfortable now. That's what I want to hear. Now bring me your game. Yeah, fuck me all you want. She's in a cowgirl position on top of you, having the sight of a goddess and her small, cute tits. You moved your hips up, trying out how to fuck a girl. 

I am not good! That's right. You’re hitting my G-spot. The face she’s making fuels you. The cute, innocent-looking Minju is now a cute, hottie, sexy girl, wanting to be fucked. After a minute, she told you to change positions. Ugh, maybe doggystyle? I don’t know my position. Hmm, do you want to see my face? Then I’ll lay here and insert it while looking at me. Alright, you did what she said; you have a full view of her from top to bottom. Now, deep in this state, you just want to taste every part of her. You carry her legs to your shoulder and lick her toes. Wow, getting bold, good boy. Just like that, lick my toes. You get close to her as your body starts to lose some energy; getting this close to her wants you to kiss her. You tried to get it, but she avoided it. Um, sorry, no kissing yet. Oh really, my bad. No, I want to cause you’re cute, but that's one of the rules. Okay, Another change of position led both of you to lay down on the couch. This time you can only see her back, but your cock is still in her. Ugh, like that, Y/N, I am going to stop. You want me to stop? No, she shouts, Okay, okay, continue to fuck me like this. You continue to go inside of her, eventually feeling that her walls are getting tighter. Hinting that she's cumming.

Yes, ughh, ohhhh, yesss, just like that, I am cumming, babe. I am about to cum too, Minju GOOD. Yes, cum inside me. Yes, you can cum in me. YES, just fucking cum in me Okay okay OHHHHHHH, Yes cum in me baby. Ugh, this is so good. After cuddling inside her, both of you were just silent on the couch. She then hugged you and kissed your cheeks.

Don't tell them I kissed you, okay? Okay, I won't. Hmm, how about we do this sometime again, but with no time restriction? You down? For real? Yeah, I like you, Y/N. Maybe we can do more. Oh, alright, give me your number. She then gets dressed, giving you a wink. She looks like nothing happened, but the atmosphere in this small corridor is screaming sex.

I had fun. Did you? Yes. Hopefully next time you win again, haha. Well, I will try. Alright, I’ll call you later. Okay. She then left as the time with her ran out. You stand outside thinking of the things that happened today; not only did you meet Illit and Minju, you have just had the best experience a fanboy has ever had.

Hmm, what happened to the other four guys? Fin. A/N: A late Birthday smut for my girl. Is this the first Illit Smut here? Not proofread cuz I am lazy. Also it got fucked halfway in terms of formatting.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the cross guild trip being nosey af

You: it doesn't matter if you don't tell anyone else you're in debt, Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy will find out.

Alvida: Keep your voice down, they're just in the next room. And no they won't, I'll just take a gig, and pay it off when I come back.

You: those three are the nosiest bitches I've ever met, I wouldn't be surprised if they found out about it in the next fortnight if they don't already know about it.

Mr. 3: I've worked with Sir Crocodile for almost a decade, he's never struck me as one for gossip.

You: you don't believe me? Watch this. *Gasps loudly* No! Shut up! ... Who got her pregnant!... Oh my GOD! How? ... OOO boy.

Mihawk: [leans back in his chair, so his head pokes into the door frame]

Buggy: [separates his ear and bounces it into the room]

Crocodile: [rolls his desk chair into view]

You: [points at them] I caught you, a bunch of nosey bitches, the lot of you.

Crocodile: [glowers at you] So no one is pregnant?

Mihawk: it appears we've been duped.

Buggy: Boo

Mr.3: [gawking]

Alvida: We're having a private conversation, didn't your mothers ever teach you eavesdropping is rude.

Crocodile: no, I didn't have any parents.

Buggy: two dads

Mihawk: no comment

You: I have some juicy gossip about the Wrangler and his girlfriend if you're interested.

Crocodile: [plops his files down] Alright, spill.

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[its-avalon-08]

Hello! I loved the seb vettel breathe baby breathe fic! can u make one where seb and y/n are dating and they gte into a really wierd silent flight. they have been super distant for two months now. y/n works as a engineer in ferrari whilst seb is in redbull. they just lost the spark. seb gives one word replies and everything is wrong. one day y/n is sobbing silently in the kitchen and seb comes running. y/n and seb confront eachother. make it majot angst happy ending. thanks!

silence is the killer (sv5)

message from anon - "Hi! Sorry can u change the kitchen to balcony? I want it to overlook the sunset and stuff. sorry for the inconvenience"

The private jet hummed with an oppressive silence. Y/N stared out the window, the clouds mimicking the turmoil in her stomach. Two months. Two excruciating months of strained conversations, stolen glances that held a universe of unspoken hurt, and a gnawing sense of distance that had grown between her and Sebastian. It felt like they were on a high-speed train hurtling towards a destination neither of them wanted.

Earlier, as Sebastian zipped up his duffel bag, a question tumbled out of Y/N, a question that felt heavier than it should have been. "Going out tonight?"

"Party," he replied, his voice clipped. A pang shot through her. He hadn't bothered to invite her. It wasn't like him. They used to spend every spare moment together, decompressing after the pressure of the races, sharing stolen kisses in the motorhome, whispering dreams and secrets under starlit skies.

Their careers had always been demanding, both chasing the ultimate prize in Formula One. But this felt different. The spark seemed to have sputtered out, replaced by a cold, empty space where laughter and warmth used to reside. Every attempt at conversation was met with a one-word reply from Sebastian, punctuated by long, heavy silences that stretched on for what felt like an eternity. It felt like she was talking to a stranger wearing his familiar face, a ghost of the man she'd fallen in love with.

The silence was shattered by a ping from Y/N's phone. A message from Kimi, their teammate at Ferrari. "Big congrats on the promotion, Y/N! You deserve it!" Her heart swelled with a mixture of pride and a deep, gnawing sadness. A promotion – a culmination of years of hard work, a testament to her dedication and talent. Maybe this was a new beginning, a chance for a fresh start in her career, even if her personal life was crumbling around her like a sandcastle under the relentless tide.

Just then, Sebastian spoke, his voice laced with a hint of confusion, a stark contrast to his usual stoicism. "Promotion? How come I didn't know about this?"

Y/N's smile evaporated faster than champagne bubbles. "I told you," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. The words felt heavy on her tongue, a constant reminder of the conversations that never happened, the silences that spoke volumes.

Sebastian's brow furrowed. "What? When?"

"Weeks ago," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "When you were...busy." The last word dripped with a bittersweet irony, a painful reminder of the long nights he spent training, strategizing, anything but spending time with her.

A flicker of something – regret, maybe, or realization – crossed Sebastian's face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He blinked rapidly, a sheen appearing in his eyes that mirrored the cityscape lights reflecting in the car windows. Y/N saw it, the vulnerability beneath his stoic facade, a vulnerability that chipped away at the wall of resentment she'd built around her heart. But a bigger part of her was numb. The silence returned, heavier than before, a suffocating blanket that wrapped itself around them, stealing the oxygen from the conversation, leaving only the raw, exposed nerve of their fading connection.

The plane touched down with a soft thud, a jarring contrast to the turmoil within. They disembarked, the familiar routine of retrieving luggage a stark contrast to the turmoil within. Now, they sat in a car, Sebastian driving, the cityscape blurring past the window. Neither of them made a move to break the silence. It was a heavy silence, pregnant with unspoken questions, hurt feelings, and the fading embers of a love that might have been saved, if only they'd spoken sooner, if only they'd fought for what they had. The question hung in the air, a silent accusation: how did we get here?

seb's pov :

Frustration gnawed at me. The silence was suffocating, a tangible entity pressing down on us. Y/N stared out the window, her face a mask of what I could only imagine was hurt. The guilt gnawed at me, a dull ache in my gut.

The truth was, I didn't know how we'd gotten here. Everything seemed to be happening at breakneck speed – championships to defend, sponsors to meet, endless travel. Somewhere along the way, the laughter had died, the late-night talks dwindled, and the space between us had grown wider.

Pulling into the usual spot, I killed the engine. "Lunch?" I asked, the question heavy on my tongue. Y/N shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"No thanks, Seb. I have a mountain of paperwork to catch up on."

The dismissal stung. Back in the day, she'd have insisted we grab a sandwich, stolen a moment together amidst the chaos. Now, it felt like every interaction had to be negotiated.

I watched her disappear into the building, my gaze falling on Lewis strolling next to her, a playful jab at her shoulder eliciting a short laugh. It was the first real laugh I'd heard from her in weeks. A strange mix of jealousy and relief bubbled up inside me. Relief that she wasn't perpetually shrouded in sadness, but jealousy that it was someone else who'd managed to coax a smile out of her.

The rest of the week was a blur of meetings and debriefs. There were stolen glances across the paddock, a brush of fingers that sent a jolt down my spine, and the lingering scent of her perfume in the air after she'd left for the day. Every night, she leaned in, a ghost of a kiss landing on my cheek before she disappeared into her room. It felt like a plea, a silent attempt to bridge the growing chasm between us.

One evening, I found myself drawn back to our room after dinner. Y/N sat on the balcony, her phone clasped in her hands, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. My heart ached. I knew then that the distance wasn't just the result of our hectic schedules. It was something deeper, something I couldn't quite grasp.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the balcony. "Hey," I croaked out, my voice thick with emotion. Y/N startled, quickly wiping away the tear.

She turned to me, a flicker of hope sparking in her eyes before fading just as quickly. "Seb," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

We stood there for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The silence stretched on, threatening to swallow us whole. But this time, something was different. This time, I wouldn't let it. I had to know. I had to fight for what we had, even if I didn't know where to begin.

The dam broke. Y/N's shoulders started shaking, a choked sob escaping her lips. Before I could react, she spun around, burying her face in her hands. Her body wracked with silent tears, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the quiet night.

My heart shattered in my chest. I rushed to her side, panic clawing at my throat. "Baby," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. Tentatively, I reached out, my hand hovering over her shoulder.

She flinched at first, then leaned back against me, the floodgates finally opening. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. My own vision blurred as a wave of guilt and regret washed over me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, the scent of her shampoo a familiar comfort amidst the storm.

"Y/N," I choked out, my voice raw. "I'm so sorry. So incredibly sorry."

She didn't speak, just clung tighter, her sobs muffling against my chest. In that moment, the silence that had plagued us for weeks was a distant memory. The only sound that mattered was the ragged rhythm of her breathing, the steady beat of my own heart echoing the frantic rhythm of a race.

Holding her felt like holding onto the last shred of something precious. It was a desperate attempt to rewind time, to claw back the moments we'd let slip away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her sobs subsided into hiccups. She pulled back slightly, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, held a vulnerability that tore at my soul.

"My heart hurts, Seb," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It hurts so fucking much, how did we get here seb? When did everything go wrong?."

The words struck me like a physical blow. The weight of her pain was a tangible thing, pressing down on me. I cupped her face in my calloused hands, forcing myself to meet her gaze.

"Mine too," I confessed, tears tracing warm paths down my own cheeks. "More than you'll ever know. Please lets just talk about it, don't give up on us baby please don't.."

The unspoken apology hung in the air, a silent promise to mend what we'd broken. We stood there for a long time, two souls battered by the storm, seeking solace in the wreckage. The path ahead was uncertain, but in that moment, we were together. And for now, that was enough.

We clung to each other, the world fading away into a blur of moonlight and the rhythmic chirping of crickets. Slowly, Y/N disentangled herself from the embrace, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

"Talk to me, Seb," she said, her voice hoarse, but laced with a newfound determination. "What's going on?"

Shame washed over me. I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to hear those words. To finally break the silence that had choked the life out of our relationship.

"I... I don't know," I stammered, my voice thick with emotion. "The pressure, it's been building. The championship fight, the sponsors, everything just feels so overwhelming." My voice cracked, a sob escaping my lips. "I just... I shut down. Pushed everyone away, especially you."

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. Y/N didn't flinch. Instead, she took my hand, her touch a beacon in the storm. Gently, she brushed away a tear that traced a path down my cheek.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady. "Let it out."

And I did. The words tumbled out in a torrent, a jumbled mess of anxieties and insecurities. The fear of failure, the weight of expectations, the constant feeling of being on the edge. I spoke of the loneliness that had gnawed at me despite being surrounded by people, the way I'd convinced myself pushing her away was somehow protecting her.

The entire time, Y/N sat beside me, a silent pillar of strength. She listened with a patience I didn't deserve, wiping away every tear that escaped, her touch a soothing balm on my raw emotions.

By the time I finished, I was drained, emotionally spent. I looked at her, bracing myself for the inevitable storm, for the anger and hurt I knew I deserved.

But all I saw in her eyes was understanding. A soft smile played on her lips, laced with a hint of sadness. "It's not your fault," she said, her voice gentle. "This sport, it gets inside you, twists and contorts everything until all you see is the finish line."

Relief washed over me, warm and unexpected. "You... you understand?"

She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Of course I do. We're in this together, remember?" Her voice hitched slightly. "But you can't keep bottling things up, Seb. Talk to me. Let me in."

The words were a revelation. The realization that pushing her away had only served to push us further apart settled in my stomach like a lead weight.

"I will," I promised, my voice thick with emotion. "I'll try my best to communicate."

We sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of the conversation hanging heavy in the air. But this time, it was a different kind of silence. A hopeful one, filled with the promise of a new beginning.

As the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of pinks and oranges, I knew we had a long way to go. But for the first time in weeks, I felt a spark of hope flicker within me. We were broken, yes, but not beyond repair. And with Y/N by my side, I was ready to face the challenges ahead, together.

We sat on the cool floor of the balcony, the city lights twinkling below like scattered diamonds. The weight of the confession had lifted, replaced by a fragile hope. The silence, this time, was filled with a tentative peace, an unspoken promise to rebuild. Y/N leaned against me while I played with her hair.

"So," I began, my voice rough from crying, "tell me about this promotion. You barely mentioned it."

Y/N chuckled, a fragile sound. "It all happened so fast. They needed someone to fill a senior role, and apparently, my name came up."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of something akin to jealousy. "Why didn't you tell me? We should've celebrated!" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, the memory of Kimi's congratulatory text a fresh sting.

Y/N's smile faltered slightly. "I tried, Seb. But you were always so… distant. Lost in your own world."

Her words hit a nerve, a stark reminder of my own failings. Shame burned in my gut. "I'm so sorry. I was a complete idiot."

Y/N reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. "It's okay. Just promise you'll listen now." Her voice held a note of playful challenge.

I squeezed her hand, the warmth seeping into my cold fingers. "Always."

We talked for hours, catching up on the lost weeks. I learned about her anxieties about the new role, the pressure to deliver, the long nights spent buried in technical manuals. She listened patiently as I recounted the grueling training sessions, the never-ending strategy meetings, the suffocating pressure to win.

"And those parties?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Stress relief, or just a way to avoid me?"

I winced. "Neither, honestly. Just… a way to escape for a while. I shouldn't have shut you out."

"Well, maybe next time, you could invite me to escape with you," she said, her eyes twinkling with a playful glint.

A relieved laugh escaped my lips. "Deal. But only if you promise to keep me grounded."

"Always," she replied, mimicking my earlier words before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on my lips. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a spark igniting a long-dormant fire.

"But seriously, Seb," Y/N continued, her voice turning serious. "Are you taking care of yourself? Eating properly? Getting enough sleep?"

The concern in her voice washed over me. "I… I try," I admitted sheepishly. Travel, training, and the constant mental strain often took a toll on my well-being.

She shook her head playfully. "Trying isn't enough. Promise me you'll make an effort. For yourself, and for me."

Looking into her eyes, the love and worry shining back at me, I knew I couldn't refuse. "I promise my love," I said, my voice filled with newfound determination.

The night bled into morning, the city lights giving way to the soft glow of dawn. We still had a mountain of issues to navigate, the road to recovery wouldn't be easy. But with open communication, a newfound understanding, and the unwavering presence of the woman I loved by my side, I knew we could face anything, together.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Y/N asked, her voice gentle as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The air hung heavy with unspoken thoughts, and I knew she could sense my hesitation.

"It's stupid, really," I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

"Nothing's stupid if it's bothering you," she insisted, her touch a soothing balm on my conscience. Taking a deep breath, I met her eyes.

"Seeing you laugh with the other drivers," I admitted, shame creeping into my voice. "It felt… strange. Like you were a world away."

Y/N's brow furrowed in understanding. "Oh, Seb," she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of sadness.

"I know it's ridiculous," I continued, my voice defensive. "We're competitive, all of us. But seeing you smile… it just reminded me of how distant we'd become. When Kimi texted you about the promotion, I damn near wanted to strange him. All those time I declined lunch and Lewis came over and made you smile, I haven't hated myself more."

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "Jealous of Lewis getting a laugh out of me?" she teased playfully.

"Maybe a little," I admitted sheepishly. "But mostly, I just missed seeing you happy, and having it be because of me."

The raw vulnerability in my voice seemed to soften her even further. She reached out, her thumb gently stroking a tear that traced a path down my cheek.

"We were both drowning, Seb," she said, her voice soft. "The pressure, the distance… it took its toll on both of us. But seeing them smile, seeing you smile, that's not a bad thing. It just means we know how to find joy, even when things are tough."

Her words resonated with me. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. Perhaps seeing her connect with others wasn't a sign of her drifting away, but a testament to her strength, her resilience.

"I guess I just…" I fumbled for the right words. "I just want to be the reason behind your smile."

Y/N's smile widened, brighter than the sunrise painting the horizon. "You are, Seb," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "You always have been, and I hope you always will be."

She leaned in then, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss filled with forgiveness, a promise for a new beginning, and a reminder of the love that had weathered the storm. We might have been bruised, but we were far from broken. And as we sat there, bathed in the golden light of dawn, a new chapter in our love story began.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ avaspeaks - anon ur such a star <3 i hope u enjoy this ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[harlowcomehome]

Babysitting gone wrong:

A requested Hazel and Jade fic.

“But dad- I’m twelve! I can watch Jade! She’s not a baby anymore and neither am I!” Hazel groaned, throwing her head back as she felt like her dad wasn’t listening to her.

“Why would you want to? Is twelve even old enough to be alone at the house? ” Jack didn’t even look at her as he chaotically packed his suitcase, he had waited until the last minute despite your constant reminders.

You had overheard the tale end of the conversation and made your way into the bedroom with Jade tailing behind you.

“Mom! Tell him!” Hazel whined she had been tiptoeing into her pre-teen angst and it showed.

“Tell him what bug?” You tried to hide your smile, knowing she was a carbon copy of her dad’s attitude and it was very obviously getting to him. Jack's face was flush as he shot you an irritated glance, the way he was packing his suitcase bothered you as you walked over to him, softly moving him aside with your hip as you folded his shirts to fit better.

“Thank you baby” he leaned into you, kissing your cheek. His curls were a mess, his eyes were tired. He was running on fumes but still looked as handsome as ever to you.

“I asked if I could babysit Jade tonight when you guys leave. Grandma and Grandpa have bingo at six and instead of them missing it I can watch the house!” She spoke so quickly it took a moment for you to catch up to what she was saying.

“B-I-N-G-O and bingo was his name-oh!” Jade chimed in as she crawled on the bed and got under the covers immediately.

“You didn’t tell Mom why you want to do that” Jack smirked, stifling a laugh.

“Money, I assume?”

“Nothing in life is free” Hazel shrugged making you giggle at her hustler mentality.

“Grandma and Grandpa are at bingo for like two hours! I can do it!” Hazel looked up at you with big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. “I won’t be alone! Lucky and Olive are here!”

“Our dog and cat are not going to help you take care of your sister. Having to be the only one in charge is exhausting.” Jack looked at you and you knew by the look in his eyes he wanted you to say no with him.

“Sidebar” You and Jack always said that to one another when you had to speak to each other privately. He stopped packing and followed you into the hallway leaving Hazel and Jade alone in the room.

“Babe, It’s just a few hours, we have the cameras to watch her too” you whispered not wanting to undermine Jack in any way.

“Do you think she’s ready for that? Jade is a lot older now but she’s still significantly younger than Hazey” he bit his lip, a telltale sign that he was nervous about it.

“I mean, you used to watch Clay all the time right?”

“I wasn’t that good of a sitter though” Jack chuckled, immediately remembering the time Clay fell off the bed and busted his knee open on his watch.

“It’s your call, big daddy. Whatever you wanna do” You squeezed his bicep knowing that would make him blush, as it always did.

Jack nodded, rubbing his beard with his hand. “You had to do that huh?” The smirk on his face told you what you already knew as you followed him into the bedroom.

“I’ll call your mom and tell her bingo is still on” you giggled as you gave him a quick kiss and went to find your phone to call Maggie.

Jack entered the room with a serious furrowed brow and stern look. “Your mom and I decided that you can watch Jade while grandma and grandpa go to bingo. You’re not allowed for any reason to use the stove or oven when you’re alone. You call us or grandma if you need anything at all, okay?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hazel hopped off the bed and hugged Jack. “Now let’s talk about some benjamins!”

“You’ve been talking to your Uncles too much” Jack obnoxiously cackled, making Hazel sigh.

“You’re also wild if you think you’re getting paid racks on racks to watch your sister”

“What if I do an amazing job?” Hazel batted her eyelashes at Jack.

“Yeah, daddy! Hazey will do a good job!” Jade backed her older sister up with a big grin earning a high-five from Hazel.

“Then you’ll be hired again” you chimed in as you entered the room again. “Daddy and I will discuss your allowance when we get back.”

••••

When you and Jack had finally left the house you could tell he was anxious, you kept your hand on his knee the entire ride to the tarmac. You both had given Hazel a long talking to about calling 911 if there was an emergency, but Jack still didn’t feel at ease.

“It’s just for a few hours, my love” You handed him your phone with the security camera footage, giving him your airpod to listen.

“Okay, Jadey! What do you want to do now that it’s just us?” Hazel stood at the front of the living room.

“Can we eat candy? Oh! And play princess tea party? ” Jade was going to take full advantage of the situation, knowing Hazel would be more lenient than Mom and dad. She hopped off the couch and followed Hazel into the kitchen wiggling her loose tooth.

Jack handed you the phone back, deciding to trust the process and earning a kiss from you as you locked your phone.

“We can drink tea and eat some cookies, how does that sound?” Hazel used the step stool in the kitchen to get some tea bags from the cabinet.

“Uh oh!” Jade slapped a hand over her mouth, as Lucky started to pee inside the house. He had been waiting by the door but nobody had noticed for longer than his little bladder could hold.

“Bad lucky!” Jade ran over to him to open the back door but Hazel was already getting the towels and tile cleaner from under the sink.

“I got it Jadey- just go set up the tea table okay?” Hazel was trying to hide her annoyance as she cleaned up the mess that Lucky left dribbled on the tile floor.

It wasn’t long before she heard a big crash coming from Jade's bedroom, shutting the back door quickly after Lucky came running back inside.

“JADE?” A horrific scream came from Hazel as she ran toward her little sister's room, the plastic table they usually did tea parties on had fallen over, but nothing serious happened otherwise.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” Jade was cleaning up the stuffed animals and plastic plates that had fallen on the floor of her bedroom. Hazel helped her set the table up before asking her to follow her to the kitchen to get the tea and cookies.

“You can carry the cookies and I’ll carry the tea.” She handed Jade the box of Keebler Danish wedding cookies as she opened the fridge to get a can of cold brisk tea.

“Cold tea?” Jade tilted her head to the side knowing normally you’d boil water on the stove.

“Daddy said I can’t use the stove” Hazel shrugged as she followed her little sister back to the bedroom.

The two of them were having a princess tea party as they usually did when Jade let out a shriek, her tooth barely hanging on by a thread.

“Oh my- Jade!” The color on Hazels face completely disappeared, trying to remember what you and Jack would do. “Don’t move!”

Hazel ran to the kitchen to get some paper towels to wrap her fingers in. When she got back to Jade she was crying and panicking.

“What do we do?” Jade sniffled as she tried not to move her mouth too much.

“I have to pull your tooth out Jadey! It’ll be fast okay? You trust me?”

“I’m scared” Jade whimpered as Hazel quickly tugged on the tooth that was barely hanging on.

Just as Hazel pulled the tooth out both Maggie and Brian arrived home from bingo causing a commotion as Lucky barked and Olive jumped down from Jade's book shelf.

“Do you think the tooth fairy will bring me lots of money?” Jade giggled as she held the napkin up to her mouth.

“I’m sure she will” Hazel sighed relieved that her grandparents were finally home.

“How did babysitting go?” Maggie asked the girls as she checked on them.

“Great!” Jade chimed in, “I lost a tooth!”

“I need a nap” Hazel groaned as she lay down on the floor. “Tell my dad he was right. I am exhausted.” she rolled over on the carpet closing her eyes and earning a stifled giggle from her grandma.

[amourtoken]

ik this was on the poll but I genuinely couldn't help myself I had to write shit down or my head would explode

here's some sugar daddy Noah thoughts lol

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: age difference, dirty talk, raw sex (pls do not), sex toys, light exhibitionism, Noah is fucking gross and that's ok, size kink, oral, dacryphylia, dom/sub, maybe dubcon if you squint but not rlly, daddy kink

♡ god be with me on this one lmao

♡ how did you end up in this situation? It's a little clichè but you were in the same club and he couldn't keep his fuckin eyes off of you. Normally you don't go to these upscale places but tonight it was in your favor, getting invited to Noah's private section gave you a chance to get away from the college friends you'd come with and actually enjoy yourself.

♡ keeping his eyes off you was one thing but his hands? Impossible.

♡ he'd instantly rested his large hand on your thigh the second you'd taken a seat next to him. Bold, but you didn't seem to mind it. He was sharing the booth with his band mates, they all seemed at least 10 years older than you but you didn't mind. you tried to conversate with them equally but the hand sliding up your thigh was making it difficult.

♡ like I said he's gross. No shame. If he wants something he's gonna get it one way or another but he at least tries to be respectful off the jump. Just when his fingers dipped under the hem of your short black dress he leaned against you to whisper something only you could hear.

"You're more than welcome to tell me no, but wanna come with me back to the hotel?"

♡ you've known the man for an hour tops, but he made you dizzy and created a swarm of butterflies in your belly so why say no? You're a few drinks in anyway, maybe prior you would've thought this was a terrible idea but the way his fingers feel caressing your thigh and how fuckin good he looks with those sleeves rolled up and all his tattoos on display? Maybe you can't resist either.

♡ this was just the first time you met, and it led you down a lovely path with him.

♡ at first it was just fucking. Meeting up whenever he was around or sending videos back and forth while he was out on tour. It escalated to him flying you out on occasion to watch him play, he'd book you the nicest hotel rooms and order you any food you needed while you were there. He started sending you flowers at home, and little gifts. His definition of a little gift is a $400 anklet with his initial on it though.

♡ after a few months he was regularly spoiling you with absolutely anything he had an excuse to. You so much as laid eyes on something for too long and he'd get it for you. He'd fly you out of the country whenever you had a break from classes and you'd enter your hotel room to see an exorbitantly expensive lingerie set next to a note from him.

"Thought you'd look perfect in this. Couldn't resist <3"

♡ his camera roll was 99% pictures of you in said expensive outfits. Bouncing between mirror selfies together where he'd have his tattooed hand wrapped around your throat from behind or on one occasion a just barely censored photo of you bent over in front of him mid backshots with his hand pressed on your back so it arches just right. (This was his lockscreen for ages, he is a freak.)

♡ his band mates have gotten used to seeing you around (and hearing you two through the walls of the shared hotel rooms), and you've grown quite fond of them as well. They see how happy you make him and can't rlly be upset even though they think he's a little over the top with how he treats you.

♡ aside from all the less than spicy details, this man *fucks*

♡ this man fucks like he absolutely hates your guts and it's *wonderful*

♡ why was his first big gift to you an anklet with his initial? So he could see it dangling over his shoulder when he had you folded in a mating press under him. He's got the filthiest mouth on him while he fucks too.

"so fuckin' pretty under me- like you were made for my dick"

"Louder. Want everyone to know who's fuckin' you so good"

"Wanna thank me for all these gifts? You can do it on your knees, baby."

"Such a dumb little slut for this cock, is it really that good? Say it."

"Awe, can't take anymore? That's too bad, you're going to."

♡ almost came untouched the first time you called him daddy. You kinda did it jokingly but after seeing his reaction you couldn't help but continue. He loves hearing it and it puts him in such a dominant headspace, it's like flipping a switch on him. Perfectly enough, when he's in that role, you fit right into a comfy subspace.

♡ he really likes instances where you're completely naked and he's not. Thinks it adds to the dynamic since you're so exposed. He lovesss running his big tattooed hands all over your body and watching you squirm and beg for some friction. He'll deny it till you're nearly in tears before giving in.

"want me to play with that pretty pussy, baby? Use your words, you know how to ask for it."

"So needy...maybe I should make you ride my thigh till you cum, see how bad you want it."

♡ buys you pretty mini skirts so he can pull you on his lap anywhere and gring against your bare ass. He'll lean his head on your shoulder and whisper filth about how you make him feel and how dirty you are for letting him dress you up like a sex doll without complaint. That's basically what you are, a little doll for him.

♡ speaking of said mini skirts, he loves when you're sat on his lap, back to his chest and head leaned back on his shoulder while he hikes your short skirt up to play with you. Makes it 100x worse better by occasionally setting his phone up to record, angled perfectly to catch the way his large fingers split your pussy open and tease your clit just right. Can't help himself but to fuck you right there, the way you squeezed around his fingers made his cock painfully hard. He caught that on video too.

"Keep making those pretty sounds, baby girl. You like when I stretch this little pussy out?"

"Say please, daddy and I'll let you have my cock."

"gonna watch this with me later? Wanna see how pretty you look split on daddy's dick?"

♡ he's bought you countless pretty sex toys and is a big fan of remote vibrators so he can play with you even when he doesn't have the chance to be there in person. Loves to FaceTime you and watch you unravel for him while he controls it. He's used it a few times in person as well, making you cum and turning it up to its highest setting, making your legs give out and you'd grab his arm for support. He'd coo about how good you're doing for him but also tease you about how sensitive you are, fat tears brimming in your eyes as you begged him to turn it down cause you couldn't handle more.

"Poor thing, so cute when you cry for me"

"You can give me another one, baby. Promise I'll fill that pussy up so fuckin' good after"

[heyftinally]

Re Brazil: yeah over a thousand people either passed out or got burned by the metal grates because it was so hot inside. She didn't give any of them a dime either.

Also Ana's family didn't get anything. She announced she reached out to them for condolences- the family announced that had not contacted them at all- then her response to getting caught lying was to publicly invite the family to a meet and greet at the next show. Money wouldn't have made it right, but it would've been better than, oh I don't know, a selfie with the lady who doesn't give a fuck about you or your dead family member.

Fans are still arguing that she wasn't responsible for the negligence and at the same time donating to any victims crowdfunds would make her liable in court. She's definitely at least partially at fault and I wish she'd be held responsible. And give away all her money to the victims.

Yeah, that sounds in line with the reports I read back when it happened. And yeah, no, offering them a meet and greet and show tickets honestly just feels egotistical. Why the fuck would I want to go meet you after my child died a preventable death at your show?

As far as "Taylor isn't responsible", I have one word: money.

The number one, two, and three reason venues ban outside drinks is because they want you to buy their overpriced ones, and they're willing to risk your life to force you into it. My friend and I paid $12 for ONE bottle of water at the One Direction concert in 2014. Conversely, I've been to at least seven shows that allowed unopened bottles of water into the venue.

But let's argue for a minute that the venue was banning outside drinks to drive profits. Taylor Swift has MORE than enough money that she could have paid off their expected revenue and tgen some in exchange for allowing fans to bring water. She was nearly a billionaire at that point and had two private jets - she can afford to buy off water sales. And doing so would have been both a kindness and a safety to her fans. Or, alternatively, she could make allowing fans to bring water a contingency of her choosing a venue - places would be tripping over themselves to honor her request, because everyone wants to be the one to host her shows.

And yet, she did nothing. She made a temporary social media post and moved on with her life. Because that's who she is as a person.

[reareaotaku]

ur male Wednesday Adams fic is *mwah* chefs kiss. Plz make more in the future 🧎‍♀️

Thank you! Thank you! * Blows kisses to non-exsistent crowd* Writing for emo/dark men seems to be something I've become knowledgeable in. Here's some more just for you-

You perked his interest, unlike anyone he's ever met/known

It's... well, annoying at first. These feelings were new to him and he wasn't fond of them

That was until he started stalking you

Originally, he just wanted to learn if you had cast some dark spell on him or something, but it slowly turned into something more

He saw it as a bonding moment between you two, even if you had no idea he was there

He writes poems about you- Poems you'll never read

He tries to approach you, but each time it seems you get scared off

He kind of likes that you're scared of him

But it's not beneficial to the relationship he wants to have with you

Might try to seem more 'friendly' to get you to like him

He doesn't like social media, thinks it's stupid, but god he's so glad for it, because you just post your whole life online without a care in the world and he stalks you hardcore

It doesn't take long before he knows everything about you- literally everything. It even bothers him a little with how much he knows about you, but he doesn't care

He feels this is the best way to romantically pursue you

I mean if you didn't want him to stalk you, maybe you should have privated your Instagram

Now, he just needs to seamlessly [Holy shit I couldn't figure out to spell seamlessly for the life of me-] start a conversation with you and at least become friends and then so much more

But how does he do it?

Wednesday scrolled through the countless photos of you that you had posted, before turning off his phone and sighing. He rubs his forehead, staring mindlessly at his ceiling. He sat up, looking around his room, the darkness of night surrounding him. He could make out the figures of his possessions, but none of that was important-

No, he was looking for something else. Something special. His eyes are drawn to the only light in the room, which was coming from a candle. Besides that candle were a few candid photos of a person from afar. You couldn't make out the features of the person, unless you looked awfully close. It was his classmate, Y/n L/n.

Wednesday had grown a fascination with his classmate, stalking them any way he can. He felt a little pathetic when stooping to such levels, especially with a shrine, but his mother told him it's a sign of his love and devotion and he was just like his father.

He knew other kids didn't do this, but honestly- He didn't care. A part of him enjoy the sick feeling of knowing you better than anyone else ever could. Maybe he was just sick... But who was anyone to tell him he was wrong when all he was was a man in love?

[azen13]

The Lives and Losses of Lovers

Description: This is actually inspired by a post by @lum1nesc3nce, which you can find here! TLDR: Zhongli x God!Reader, where Zhongli kills his lover but they stay alive. This does have a bit more of a Yandere!Zhongli flavor, though, so be warned!

CW: Yandere Themes, Descriptions of Violence, Descriptions of Blood, Murder, Mild Gore,

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The patio is warm, blessed with the touch of the sun’s earliest rays. Already you and Zhongli sit in two comfortable chairs; he sips on tea, you on coffee. It is a scene that has played out a thousand times, yet one Zhongli never tires of. He never tires of seeing your face aglow, of feeling your body leaning against his, of knowing you are here, miraculously breathing life through your bones and skin.

“My dear, I was wondering,” Zhongli starts, his soft contemplative voice shattering the flimsy silence blanketing the porch. “Would you like to accompany me to Liyue Harbor to purchase some groceries?” It is a reward–he thinks as he revels in your surprised reaction–for how understanding you have been in these turbulent times. With the whole mess regarding the Fatui cleared up and a mundane mortal life ahead of him, Zhongli can afford to spend more moments with you in sweet, blissful love.

Perhaps one day it will make up for that vile scene years ago, the moment his heart became stone: your body splayed stunningly on the ground, looking like the most gilded, horrific masterpiece he had ever seen. Painted in sunlit hues, his spearhead sticking from your chest splattered with blood made of molten gold. 

Even nearly dying you looked breathtaking. 

He is still suffering from regret for the decision. At the time, the situation was looking grim; Guizhong and Azhdaha were both gone, leaving you his only close friend. He spent many moonlit nights sharing tea and hushed conversation, as well as tears and heartfelt confessions with you. Zhongli is not the god of words, but just the sight of your iridescent eyes made him want to tell you every trouble and every worry had. You were his most valuable treasure, his lover through and through. Your contract with him, to always stand by side, loyal to one another, made him so weak, so soft, so human.

But that was the issue. Everyone knew of his love, his tender affection; unbecoming of a god who wielded earth and stone as weapons. His life was plagued by phantoms day and night. When he dreamed he envisioned you being kidnapped by some evil god like Osial and being tortured. Killed. Doomed to a fate worse than death, even. In the day, every action you did reminded him of a delicate tree weathering a deluge. Your branches swayed in the intense winds and even the earth couldn’t anchor you.

So he pleaded. He begged you to stay tucked away in his private domain where no great evil could stalk after you, promising to love you for an eternity of eternities. He would love you until every mountain had become a valley. But you refused, saying you wanted to live every facet of life, turning the world like a kaleidoscope in your hands.

The mirrors shifted and the skies turned red.

Those prophecies he had dreamt, uttered to him by ghosts haunting his mind, came true. You were taken away by some pesky, lowly god, and confessed all that you knew. That was fine. Zhongli was made of stone and Cor Lapis, and even if this insignificant insect of a god knew his weaknesses–few as they were–Zhongli eviscerated them.

But the contract.

When the god was sealed away beneath the sea, Zhongli fell to his knees, mouth opened but unable to utter any words.

Zhongli is not the god of words.

It is horribly tragic, he mourns as he stares at your hollow expression, that you must face the wrath of the rock because of a ridiculous choice of words. “To always stand by his side.” You have technically betrayed him.

The earth shakes for weeks afterwards. The sudden freak earthquake is talked about for weeks on end before people move on, as life does. Zhongli does not. His memory of you remains petrified, his new specter. He will never truly love again for thousands of years. Every time he is reminded of you, a piece of his heart chips away

But then you came back. 

That day is amber, crystallized in his mind. Seeing you in the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor, so lost after centuries away from home. At that moment, Zhongli decides he will not make the same mistake twice. He would have preferred more time to draw you in carefully, but he is afraid now. Afraid that some hideous twist of fate will rip you from him again. So he whisks you away to his private domain, and drafts up a new contract, binding you to him in matrimony forever. 

Please forgive him, he begs after you sign the contract in gold, tears dripping down your cheeks. He only wishes to protect you; he has always wished to protect you. But the world is cruel to lovers, and not even the strong can uphold such a delicate thing. 

In Zhongli’s private domain, wicked things like time and fate are nonexistent. Zhongli is the only god that rules these lands. He is a benevolent god, if a little possessive. After being deprived of you for so long, he craves your presence, he claims. Day and night, he tries to spend every living moment with you. When he cannot, you are ever-present in his mind–a living, breathing thing instead of the dead spirits that once terrorized it for all those years.

Some days you seem despondent, craving room to spread your branches far and wide. But Zhongli simply chuckles and kisses the top of your head; he smells the gentle scent of your shampoo, knowing this is what is best for you. He whispers it quietly, lacing sweet nothings and honeyed words into his voice as he pulls you into his arms. You haven’t tried to fight him on this in years, either. It’s part of the reason why he has proposed going on a  little trip to Liyue Harbor. Perhaps if all goes well, he’ll allow more trips out of the private domain. All supervised by his watchful eye, of course. After a few moments of stunned surprise, you finally have the courage to speak. “I-I’d love to. Thank you, Zhongli,” you say quietly. Zhongli smiles, leaning to press a delicate kiss to your lips.

“You are very welcome, my treasure,” he whispers, a hand reaching to cup your face; his thumb reaches to brush your lips tenderly.

He can tell that you are still afraid of him, fearful that he will hurt you again. No matter. One day, Zhongli hopes, you will shed your fear like a caterpillar in chrysalis, and emerge into a glittering world full of Zhongli’s love for you. 

[civilight-eterna]

OOOOOH.. any of the hunters + irene breeding kink for request

(because you're a goated polyshipper like me...you get laurentina/irene/skadi sandwich. love and kisses)

...

Perhaps Irene's time with the Abyssal Hunters had neutered her fears in a way that others had not experienced. She has always been one to speak her mind in the first place, and when she observes-on multiple occasions!-Skadi dismissing herself from a talk with Laurentina the moment Irene arrives, she begins to wonder at it. Laurentina's musical giggles and the barely-masked scowl it incurs from Skadi sit Irene with the all-too-familiar sense of having things unsaid about oneself in thinly-veiled secret.

She's been singled out before, during her studies. She should be used to it.

But perhaps, she expected a little better of her newer peers.

So she steels her resolve and confronts her directly, on a whim, in the corridor.

"Skadi. You have been avoiding me, and I would very much like to know why."

"I've been avoiding you because I want to get you pregnant."

A beat.

"E-Excuse me!?"

This time, Laurentina is the one to excuse herself. She grins and hoists the hem of her skirt with a sweeping curtsy and a mirthful smile, dipping around from Skadi as she exits the conversation-

Or at least, she tries.

"Y-You! You stay put-you're, you owe me some explanations too-" Irene fumes, her face burning hot, still reeling from Skadi's blunt remark.

"Oh my, such an aggressive little birdie today. But I don't think staying would be very wise of me-"

Irene did not think it possible for Skadi's face to ever entertain an expression that could plead for mercy. And yet, that is exactly how she looked as she turned her gaze to Laurentina with haste.

"Please."

It takes Irene aback to see her ask so plainly, even though saying things plainly is what she knows her for.

Laurentina smiles and acquiesces, much to Skadi's visible relief.

"Then let's take this conversation somewhere more private, shall we?"

...

"-It's something of a leftover gene with our less-Aegir side. It's quite troublesome, especially for a certain Orca that says things as she thinks of them." Laurentina finishes the explanation, mercifully succinct, and without too much teasing.

"It's frustrating," Skadi's voice is tense, cutting in sharply, "I don't even have the anatomy to make it happen. But it aches all the same."

"...I see." Irene wonders whether it was the best idea to have this conversation in Skadi's room, in full view of the bed.

Not out of any concern that something would-happen. She just thinks-

How awful it is, to be without control over one's body. How painful, to have to resist those urges, to constantly expend energy in such a way.

And...

How flattering, that all this time, what she'd mistaken for being made fun of in secret had turned out to be admiration, even if it were only because of some physiological response.

What should she even suggest?

"Is there nothing I can do to help?..."

Irene doesn't realize she's wondered it out loud until she glances up and sees Laurentina hide a smile behind her hand.

"Or-I mean!" Irene's face warms instantly as Skadi regards her, "It-doesn't need to be me, if you don't want-"

"I do."

"Excuse me?"

"I am attracted to you. You bled two weeks ago. You're fertile-"

"H-H-How do you-?!"

"Sharks can tell." Skadi answers her outburst calmly. Laurentina's smile is wider, if a little guiltier for it. "And-"

"I-I'm-" Irene's mind reels, feeling like she's reacting to each point in halved time. She doesn't even have the chance to be outraged or indignant-it's all just shock.

Skadi closes in, her presence slow and calm, like she's come to some determinations about her in the last few minutes on her own.

"-Willing. Aren't you?"

Skadi's hand closes around one of Irene's, and she brings the back of it against her mouth.

Irene has been aware of her shorter stature for some time. In general, but especially compared to her new colleagues. She beholds Skadi with quietened awe, the sleek angles of her cheekbones, the texture of her lips against her fingers, the velvet-steel look in her eyes.

"Y...Ye...s."

"But I would break you apart." Skadi says seriously, "Even without something to put inside of your-"

"Aa-ah-! I get-I get the jist!"

I'll die if I hear another word of this!

Laurentina, her fingers curled beneath her chin, tilts her head and shares her musings.

"Suppose you just...went through the motions until you were satisfied? I could help."

"Help how?" Skadi's brow furrows.

"Relax, no need to be so territorial! You said as much yourself-you'd break her apart. If I were beneath her, to counterbalance you, you should be able to really cut loose."

"I wasn't being-"

"I know. But it's cute when you get flustered. Right, little birdie?"

"I-It's no laughing matter. Skadi is in considerable pain, no? And this is-"

-Sacrilege, if the church ever caught wind of this arrangement-

"-fine with me. I just want you..."

Irene trails off, glances up into Skadi's eyes. Back down again.

"...to feel better."

...

It's not wrong to help someone who is hurting. Surely, there were-contingencies, for this sort of thing.

Irene knows very well there are not.

But there should be. It's not the church's fault they had no way to conceive of all of the ways in which her people might suffer, when the scriptures were written.

She rapidly realizes that there is absolutely no justification she could offer, to herself or any higher power, for as to why she agreed to be held down against Laurentina's supine form as Skadi doubles over her and grinds, hard, between her legs.

But she soon becomes more concerned with more mortal matters.

All of Skadi's weight is anchored into her hips, and she ruts into Irene through their clothes like she's chasing her very bones. Laurentina writhes beneath her, rolling her between them, easing the worst of the pressure, but the sensation is suffocating.

Her hands scramble for Skadi's shoulders, and she can feel Laurentina's thighs pressing into her backside as she cocoons her with her body.

"Hhhah, you're close?" Laurentina coos, and Skadi groans into Irene's neck, closing her between them like a vise-

My...ribs are going to crack, Irene thinks numbly, and her head dips back over Laurentina's shoulder as a strangled cry rumbles out of her chest, She's going to break every bone in my body, if this keeps up-

Skadi's hand clutches her suddenly beneath the knee, hiking it up as she grinds closer, harder than before.

"S-Skadi, you're, g-going to kill me-!"

Those must have been the magic words, because Skadi's voice pitches and her entire body shudders, rolling with the aftershocks as she slumps over Irene, breathing hard. Something in her was sated, Irene can tell that much.

She's breathing hard too. There's a little too much humidity between her legs to all be sweat, and she pants, desperately-

"-It's, it's hot-"

"Take these off next time then." Skadi's voice is slightly muffled over her shoulder. She doesn't move a muscle.

"N-Next time?!"

"Mmhm."

Laurentina's hands are drifting, silky-soft, beneath her skirt, pressing and poking at her thighs.

"Oh, see." She hums as Irene winces, "I don't even have to see here to know that she's all bruised up."

Irene whimpers, and Skadi nuzzles her, just below her ear.

"...Sorry. Really."

"D-Don't worry. Just save your strength."

"Mmhm."

It's funny. Irene thinks. Anyone else, I would expect to say something about the obvious divide in our abilities, would point out how strange it is for someone like me to tell her what to do. But she doesn't sound disingenuous at all.

"You too, brave little birdie." Laurentina's legs tremble beneath hers, and she takes a shivering breath that makes Irene wonder how she managed to take on everything at once. "Not even my finest clay can withstand such pressure-you're truly a resilient medium of your own right." Laurentina's dexterous fingers slide up around Irene's shoulders, gently kneading them, releasing tension, "That being said, you'd probably appreciate a slightly...softer touch? I promise I'll be careful with you while Skadi sleeps it off."

Irene sighs, tilting her neck into the touch.

She has nothing to say for Skadi having fallen asleep already-she'll be joining her soon.

[milkbvne]

Guys….. guys sunday/robin/reader triad….. is this anything

(Gn reader, sfw, also it’s not outright but I believe sunday and robin are kissing too so, tw incest)

(Also I’m including some hcs about halovians, cope/lh)

Listen I’m just thinking about human family member reader (idk which family tho, I’m not sure I care yk) meeting and working with Robin until they become friends, and then robin confesses that she likes the reader and would love to go on a date and she’s so sweet and cute but there’s just something… off about the vibe. This little gut feeling that she’s leaving something out.

But you ignore it and go on your date and it’s private and lovely and there’s a big long conversation about needing to present as single bc she’s a pop idol so you both will need to be careful in public.

So you end up seeing her out and around less and more just laying around with her in her home. She’s so soft and comfortable and cuddly, the textbook definition of a cinnamon roll.

You don’t really notice how she slowly migrates you both to laying in a cozy little pile on her couch to doing the same at Sundays home. Until you have the realization one day that you’ve been spending more time in his home than your own and you’ve somehow never met the man.

You mention it to Robin and she’s all sweet and a little nervous when she tells you that she’s been meaning to introduce you both but has been hesitant bc he’s… unsettling to a lot of humans. From a distance it’s fine but in private when he lets himself relax he feels far less human, and you understand immediately when you meet him.

He’s beautiful and terrifying. Calling him the most handsome man in penacony is an incredible understatement. The wings behind his ears flutter loosely as do the wings on his hips and back that usually stay tucked under his coat, his eyes are so bright and clear you’d swear they’re glowing. And he never seems to blink, it’s like staring down a predator, you feel like you’re being hunted every second you’re in his eyeline.

But that’s unreasonable, he’s not hunting you. His voice is smooth and even. His smile doesn’t quite feel genuine but it manages to soothe your nerves anyway. Then before you’re even fully aware of it he’s joined you both when he has the time to sit still. Your head in his lap and Robin laying on your chest, his wings sprawled out over you three and robins tucked against her back. You notice at some point that she only has two sets of wings, while he has three. You consider asking but the thought slips your mind when sunday, ever so casually places a chaste kiss on your forehead. When you look up his head wings are flicking around like they want to cover his face, but he isn’t letting them, and his face is brushed with the sweetest little blush.

It’s never formally talked about but you all migrate to Sundays room after that, the space is modest and small but his bed is comfortable enough for dozing and reading together. Putting a movie on one of your phones and just laying in his nest, as you’ve come to call it. Slipping into a routine of going home long enough to shower and change into comfy clothes before making your way there. Robin returning first and you both chattering about your day while she wraps you in her wings while you hold her. Then later sunday joins you, gently head butting you both like a content cat before laying down.

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 23/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (Chapter 16). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

                Bradley wakes slowly, it’s already better than yesterday morning, no incessant buzzing of a phone, no alarm at all, just the slow coming back to awareness and the feel of Jake beside him, warm and asleep, little snuffling sounds he’s sure Jake will deny ever making. They only have four hours of filming today, although it will likely stretch to six or seven given yesterday’s interruptions. He feels tender, emotionally, like he’s reopened all his old wounds and reminded of the hurt they caused, like a fresh bruise, but knows from experience that the feeling will fade away again, there until he goes and pokes at it again.

                He rolls to give Jake a quick hug, his need to use the bathroom far more pressing than anything else. He tucks the blankets around Jake to make sure he doesn’t get a blast of cooler air and pads quietly to the bathroom. After finishing and washing his hands, downing a glass of water he grabs his phone and turns it on, realizing his mistake as it starts vibrating and beeping with notifications and he quickly puts it into silent mode and shoves it under a cushion, hoping it will muffle the worst of the vibrations.

                He hasn’t looked at any social media since yesterday morning, doesn’t care for it, although he does have several accounts, some of which are necessary for promoting his work, while others are private and locked down with only a handful of people. He has a non-private personal one for work, which he has Brigham manage for the most part, posting a picture every three to four days. It’s this one which has gone nuts with new followers and notifications and there it is right at the top.

                The photo Pete took last night, his nose and forehead taking up far too much space in the foreground, but then there is Tom looking resigned and quietly happy if you know him well enough, Bill smiling slightly whereas Kaye is beaming. Bradley and Jake aren’t looking at the camera, instead looking at each other, clearly caught saying something to one another just before they turned for the photo and he wonders exactly how many shots Pete took. He and Jake looks good together though, happy and relaxed and he guesses it’s Pete’s way of approving of it and supporting it. Then he reads the caption.

                Oh. Holy shit.

                He’s tagged Tom.

                Tom who is never tagged in anything except official trailers, press releases and people trying to get his attention. Never candid shots that largely feature Maverick’s nose as a starring feature.

                Holy shit.

Delicious dinner with the boyfriend, son, son’s new boyfriend and his parents. Always humbling when you’re not the most famous person at the table. Thank you Seresin family for your warm Southern hospitality.  @TKazanskyOfficial @JSeresin @2Brad2Sad @MmmKaye

                Pete has never referred to Tom as anything more than a friend, a colleague, sometimes, rarely, a close friend. Never boyfriend. He wouldn’t have posted this without Tom’s okay, and then his conversation with Tom comes into focus and he wonders if he’s going to see a picture of an engagement ring and he frantically goes searching… nothing. Yet. Oh god. What if Pete is also planning on proposing? He wouldn’t ask or tell Bradley first, he’d just go ahead and do it. If he has any grey hairs, they’re totally because of Pete.

                This is insane, and a quick scan through the comments tells him it’s blindsided a lot of people. Not anyone close to them, though he can see a few comments from people like Natasha and Bob. He lets out a long breath, taps his phone against his forehead before sending a quick message to Tom, asking him if he’s okay, if he thinks Pete is planning anything else. Not that it matters, far too late to do anything about it now. He puts his phone into do not disturb mode and slides back into the bed, grins when he hears Jake’s little grunt of displeasure at his cooler skin, pulls him close to help himself warm up and to annoy Jake a little, kisses his shoulder and lets himself savor the moment.

                “Hey…”

                “Hi. Morning.”

                “Mmm. It is morning. A good one, too.”

                “What makes a good morning?” Bradley asks, wondering if he could maybe get another hour of sleep. He still feels tired. Emotionally hungover, that’s what his therapist would say.

                “Waking up with you and nowhere to be for a couple of hours.”

                “Mmm. Yeah. That is pretty good.”

                “And no phone calls. That’s a bonus.”

     ��          “You turned your phone off remember?”

                “Ugh. Damnit.”

                Bradley can’t help but laugh as Jake pulls the sheets and blankets over his head, clearly refusing to engage with the real world and he pulls the blanket over his own head.

                “I’m not going to make you turn it on. We can still be asleep as far as the rest of the world is concerned.”

                “Or otherwise occupied.”

                “Yeah, that works too…”

…            …            …

                Later, after Bradley’s learnt the taste of Jake’s come, had his own come licked from his stomach, mentally thanked whoever it was that stocked extra toothbrushes, they shower and dress, stomachs grumbling at the later hour. He’s so used to eating breakfast around seven that now that it’s nine he really isn’t coping, pretty sure he has the beginnings of a caffeine withdrawal headache starting behind his eyes.

                “Coffee… and then food.”

                “Good plan.”

                They walk hand and hand to the mess hall, plenty of people are out and about and it definitely has the vibe of a small village community. Jake seems to be constantly smiling and he likes that a lot, wants him to always look happy and relaxed when they’re out together. He spies Reuben sitting beside Tom, deep in conversation; Bob and Natasha getting more coffee and they follow them back to their table with their on food and coffee, all exchanging various greetings.

                “Hey Tom. Where’s Pete?”

                “Still in bed. He and Kaye drank a lot more after you two left. They’re both now suffering the consequences of their actions,” Tom says, looking serious but the corner of his lip is twitching so Bradley knows there is more coming. “Bill thought it was a good time to chop some wood this morning and I thought I might practice the piano…”

                “You… you can’t play the piano,” Bradley states, because while Tom knows music, he’s definitely more dedicated to the strings rather than the piano.

                “I know,” Tom grins, and his grin is sly and amused.

                “You’re evil,” Jake breathes beside him, and he looks absolutely delighted.

                “I control the force known as Pete Mitchell, of course I’m evil.”

                “The fact that you think you control him is delusional, but sure…” Bradley mutters.

                “You have a valid point, doesn’t stop most of Hollywood thinking that I do though.”

                “Especially now. Boyfriend,” Bradley says with a smirk, shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. Tom lets out a sigh and looks to the ceiling like he will somehow get strength from some heavenly body, but Bradley knows it all a front, especially considering their conversation yesterday.

                “What? What are you talking about?”

                “Have you still not turned your phone on?” Bradley asks and Jake shakes his head, expression clearly indicating that he still doesn’t particularly want to turn it on. He pulls his own phone out of his back pocket and unlocks it, opening Instagram and placing it on the table so Jake can see.

                “Oh. That’s a nice photo…”

                “Apart from Mav’s nose and forehead, sure.”

                “I meant a nice photo of you. Us.”

                “Oh. Yeah.”

                “Yes. You look sickeningly in love and the whole world can see it,” Tom says dryly.

                “I’m glad you said what we were all thinking,” Natasha says and Bradley pulls a face at her, which makes everyone laugh at him, including Jake.

                “You’re meant to be on my side,” Bradley mutters and Jake just leans against him, firm warmth and whispers I am under his breath, which gets them eye rolls and gagging noises from his friends.

…            …            …

                He doesn’t see his mom or Pete all day, which is probably a blessing, but he does see his dad and Tom puttering around, his dad using the golf cart to drive them around and he likes that they seem to get on. Probably bonding over being with over-the-top extroverts, which is something they definitely have in common. He works through scenes with Javy and Callie. Is glad that he likes them both, makes work far more enjoyable.

                They aren’t working with any horses today though, nothing more dangerous than a couple of steps and he knows Bradley is off somewhere working on something, he’d said exactly what it was this morning, but Jake had just gotten distracted watching his lips move he’d not been paying attention to what he was actually saying. He might not even be able to pay attention when Bradley no doubt tells him about it later. It’s getting hot, the afternoon heat making them all sweat and there’s only so much the wet-wipes and shade can do to help.

                “Here, got you some water…” Bradley says, walking toward them holding several bottles, cold enough to be dripping condensation.

                ‘Well, he’s certainly thirsty for something,” Callie murmurs and Jake shoots her a look, but Bradley simply looks pleased. Jake grins, reaches up to give him a kiss, ignores the little worm of anxiety and worry when Bradley pulls back.

                “You’re filming, I don’t want to mess you up. I already get enough dirty looks from makeup…”

                “God you’re perfect,” Jake murmurs, reaching up with a hand instead to brush a thumb over Bradley’s lips, smiles wider when Bradley presses a kiss to it, the worm of anxiety dissolving.

                “No. I’m not. I am really really not. At all.”

                “Hmm. Maybe not,” Jake agrees, although he’s pretty sure Bradley is perfect, as in, perfect for him, as cheesy and corny as it sounds and feels. “I know you’re not. But you are very competent. And that does it for me apparently.”

                “Does it now?” Bradley asks, stepping closer and Jake can feel the extra warmth from his body being so close.

                “Like you didn’t know that already,” Jake mutters, knows he’s flushing.

                “I can’t cook very well, and I’m not interested in learning to be better. I miss obvious things. I’m stubborn and set it some of my ways. And I have a thing for your accent…”

                “Not me all dressed up in my cowboy clothes?”

                “Nope. Prefer you naked in bed.”

                “Well, aren’t you lucky that’s exactly where you can have me every night…”

                “You do know I’m right here, right?” Javy asks, the look on his face a little horrified, bottle of water halfway to his mouth.

                “And whose fault is that?”

                “The sun shade!” Javy says, waving his hand at it with exasperation. “We’re all protecting ourselves from the sun. Unfortunately we can’t protect ourselves from you two.”

                “You want me to get Natasha over here?” Bradley asks and Jake’s eyes fly to Javy’s face, Javy’s mouth opening and closing like a fish and Jake hadn’t realized that at all, then again he’s been busy untangling his own feelings for Bradley to pay too much attention to Javy, and he’s not even been home a week.

                “You’re not that unobservant…” Jake says to him, then turns back to Javy. “Callie doesn’t seem to mind.”

                “I’m much less of a whiner,” Callie states, smiling sweetly and Jake cracks up at the indignant look on Javy’s face at the subtle dig.

                “I’ve got to go, I’ll see you later though okay?”

                “Yeah, course,” Jake says, watches a little distracted as Bradley kisses his own thumb and then proceeds to press the pad to Jake’s own lips. He smiles and kisses it, a little embarrassed, except Bradley had just done the same thing moments before, kissing Jake’s thumb rather than ruin his makeup.  Then Bradley’s striding away and Jake watches him, because it’s a nice view.

                “Man have you got it bad,” Javy says.

                “Yeah. I do. But that’s not a bad thing.”

…            …            …

                He’s walking to dinner when he gets a message, Tom’s notifications never silenced due to the fact that he never sends any type of message. Until now.

                I didn’t get to propose before he did. Check Instagram.

                He knew it!

                He fucking knew it. Fucking Pete. He looks around, steps to the side so he’s not blocking the doorway and opens Instagram. There are dozens of notifications, 99+, the little red bubble informs him and he presses on Tom’s profile, a little worried but a lot more curious. There’s another photo, Pete and Aunty Kaye sitting on the sofa, the room dark enough he kind of has to squint to see them. Pete looking very green around the gills, Aunty Kaye leaning against him but with what looks like a wet facecloth covering her face, another one over Pete’s forehead.

Someone partied too hard last night. And as of 5pm fiancé is the correct title. Because I accepted his half-assed proposal. Wonder if @2Brad2Sad is too old to be a ring bearer? What do you think @PeteMitchell?

                There are hundreds of replies, and he’d thought that Pete posting something was to take the spotlight off Jake, but he doesn’t think either him or Jake care about the spotlight anyway. It’s going to be on them eventually. He sees Natasha’s response I’d love to see @2Brad2Sad in a flower crown and he lets out a huff of amusement. Tom posting this, it’s putting the spotlight on them, but it’s not making their relationship the biggest news. He wonders if this is what they’d planned. He taps out his own response.

@TKazanskyOfficial We have a strict no returns policy.

                He slides his phone back into his pocket and heads inside, lines up for his meal and spies his friends sitting at what he now thinks of their usual table. It all feels a bit like high school, with the different cliques, except for the fact that everyone is far less precious about people mixing it up and sitting wherever that want. Tom is there though, sitting with his friends, along with Freddie, Javy and Callie. Jake is nowhere to be found, and Bradley knows he was planning on going home for dinner. The fact that Pete is also nowhere to be found makes him a little uneasy, but Tom smiles at him calmly, which helps settle the worst of his nerves and he sits down opposite.

                “I guess congratulations are in order?”

                “Yes, I guess they are. You do know him very well, but I don’t think he quite planned it.”

                “What happened?” Bradley asks, and he notices that everyone else around them has fallen quiet and is now listening, something Tom clearly also notes with a sardonic eyeroll.

                “I brought him a cup of coffee and some Tylenol. He said he loved me and asked me to marry him. So I said yes.”

                “Of course that’s how it played out. I’m betting that didn’t help his headache.”

                “Nope. He threw up.”

                Bradley snorts, feels bad, because he shouldn’t be laughing at Pete’s misfortune, except he brought it on himself. He’s sixty next year and should know better.

                “Romantic. Is he even going to remember?”

                “Why do you think I posted it to Instagram?”

                “And who helped you do that?” Bradley asks, because as much as he loves Tom, he also knows there are other reasons he doesn’t use Instagram.

                “Rueben. Natasha was too busy laughing at me,” Tom mutters, and he’s looking a bit dejected, because Natasha has never been intimidated by Tom, which he’s liked for the most part.

                “Yep. Sounds about right,” Bradley says, and Natasha appears to still be laughing. “Also, for the record, I’d totally rock a flower crown.”

                He feels a hand on his back, fingers trailing between his shoulders and he turns to find Jake there, face split with a wide grin, he leans down and gives Bradley a quick kiss, pulling an empty chair from a nearby table over so he can sit down, clearly not at the table or interested in eating, but wanting to be close.

                “Do I want to know why you’re going to be wearing a flower crown?”

                “For the wedding,” Natasha says, and Jake rears back, eye wide.

                “Pete and Tom’s wedding,” Bradley interjects quickly, pulls a face at Natasha, although she just laughs some more. Fortunately Jake hadn’t looked horrified at the idea of a wedding, just surprised and he tucks that away for later reflection. “You still haven’t turned your phone on huh?”

                “Well, I did, but only to take a video of my mom. She’s lying on the sofa and very hungover. I’ve never seen her hungover before. Dad said she’s been there all day. I’m not sure if it’s awesome or a sign of the apocalypse.”

                “Definitely the apocalypse if you don’t delete the video. Tom already posted a photo, but at least you can’t see your mom’s face and she isn’t tagged in it.”

                “Oh shit… did you really?” Jake asks and Tom nods. “Wow. I think her days of having a crush and hero worshipping you are well and truly over…”

                “Your mom has a crush on Tom?”

                “Had. I mean, maybe she still does? Pretty sure posting an unflattering picture isn’t going to exactly endear you to her…”

                “I don’t need to endear myself. It’s why I left them alone to their drinking,” Tom mutters and Bradley looks at him, raises an eyebrow. “They were talking about me.”

                Bradley’s now even more amused, because he’s heard enough of Pete’s drunken soliloquys about Tom to hazard a guess as to the nature of the talking, and if Aunty Kaye was throwing in her thoughts, okay, he can imagine why Tom left them to it and then had zero guilt about banging away at the piano this morning.

…            …            …

                He expects Bradley to be waiting for him in the trailer, but it’s empty and he goes through their last conversation, certain that they’d agreed to meet back here. Of course, if Bradley’s plans changed he has no way of contacting him, his phone is off again and he pulls it out of his pocket and turns it on.

Come by the bunk house?  -BB

                He sends back a quick message, saying he’s on his way, glad it’s only a few minute walk, taking the steps two at a time, knocking at the door even though it’s already ajar, pushes it open further when Bradley calls out for him to come in. Pushing the door open Jake looks around at the half-packed bags, reminds himself to not jump to the worst-case scenario.

                “Going somewhere?”

                “Uh. Well, I thought maybe I could move into your trailer, but then realized I should maybe talk to you about it before I just packed my bags and moved in. Ask you.”

                “Oh,” Jake says, realizing that it’s a best case scenario instead. “Yeah. That would be great.”

                “Great,” Bradley says, his smile easy. “You can help me finish packing then.”

                “Moving in together. You don’t think it’s a little fast?”

                “I can stay here…” Bradley says immediately and Jake’s gut clenches and he’s shaking his head.

                “No!”

                “Jake. This is our relationship and our timeline. I like the idea of sharing a space with you. If we can survive working together for the next couple of months and living in a trailer then… well. I was going to say this is like training wheels. But instead it’s the opposite. Trial by fire. But I am not afraid of these flames at all. Don’t feel like I’m in any danger of getting burnt.”

                Bradley has moved close to him and Jake swallows, lets his hands settle on Bradley’s hips, rests his forehead against his neck.

                “Listen to you, being all poetic.”

                Bradley scoffs.

                “I’m just… how often are we going to be working together on the same film, same location and sharing a trailer? Our future is going to have chunks apart, seems a waste to not spend every moment I can with you while I can.”

                Jake nods, breath shuddery in his lungs as he processes the words. Future. The surety and calmness of Bradley’s tone is centering and he pulls back to better reach his lips and kisses him, lets himself enjoy the scrape of stubble and Bradley’s moustache across his skin, already feeling the curl of warmth that everyone is going to know just by looking at him that he’s been kissing Bradley. A lot. It’s a gentle kiss, tender, one he feels is filled with promise and understanding rather than the desire to arouse someone. Sweet.

                “I love you,” Jake says quietly, the truth of it washing through him. Bradley’s grin is slow and Jake is reminded that while he’s mostly nothing but lovely and sweet, Bradley can also be a bit of an asshole. “If you Han Solo me right now I’ll –”

                “I love you too.”

[raineandsky]

#117

tw: gun violence, murder

The hero gets out of bed, folds their sheets back the same as always, and starts their day.

They put the TV on for the background noise, but it’s far beyond that now. The hero can recite this news story word for word.

“—and what’s to say this fiend can be stopped? I’m joined here by villainy expert Joyce Peterson for a glimpse into what may be….”

The hero pulls a box out of the cupboard, throws some cereal into a bowl. The same flake as always bounces off the edge and escapes onto the floor. They eat in silence, the buzz of the TV enough to fill the space for dread in their mind, and think over their plan again.

It’s been like this for two weeks now. The same news story, the same breakfast, the same glum look on the superhero’s face when the hero walks into the agency. The same “[Hero], a word, please”, the same confession that their villain is going haywire.

The hero wants to say they’ve lost their mind. They’ve tried everything—don’t go to work, don’t talk to the superhero, don’t accept the mission they’ve been given every day for the past two weeks. Even the inconsequential stuff: don’t have breakfast, don’t turn on the TV, don’t go in through the front door. Every day has brought a new attempt to break themself out of this time loop, and so far every day has remained exactly the same.

They look up a little too early when the superhero approaches them at the door. “[Hero],” he says predictably, “a word, please.”

The same as always. The superhero ushers them into an interrogation room for lack of a better place to speak privately. They have the same conversation, the words practically rehearsed in the hero’s head like this is some fucked up theatre performance. Your villain is going off the rails, the hero thinks along with him. You need to bring this to an end before they destroy everything.

The same walk down the corridor, the same idle suit-up, the same wish of good luck from the superhero.

The hero turns to grab the same pair of cuffs before they falter, caught in instinct. They let their hand drift a little further to unlatch a handgun from the wall. Something new. Another attempt at freedom.

Not that it’ll work. It never does.

The hero goes out there to face the villain, as always. They laugh at the hero’s presence, throw themself into the same grand monologue. The hero points their gun at the villain and, without a thought in the world, pulls the trigger.

Killing people is a lot easier than trying to catch them. The hero’s never wanted to kill someone—god, they can’t imagine what it’d be like to want to kill—but it’s a curiosity sated. It feels bad. They hate it. The villain is dead, the gun is hot in their hand, and this will all reset tomorrow.

The hero returns to the agency with the news. The superhero doesn’t seem to know whether this is good or not. “It’s another evil off the streets,” he says, but his brow furrows as he says it.

The hero goes home that evening, their routine slightly altered with their new line of action. The water of the shower is cold, their dinner made when the streetlamps outside the window are already flickering on.

They tumble into bed without a care. What will they try tomorrow? Maybe they can try just incapacitating the villain this time. Shoot them in the leg or something. They go to sleep and dream of another day of the same.

Morning. The hero gets out of bed, folds their sheets back the same as always, and starts their day.

They put the TV on for the background noise, but it’s far beyond that now. The hero can recite this news—

Wait.

“—No one’s sure what happened. The public has gathered here to celebrate this victory, but not everyone is so pleased about this. I’m joined by a citizen, who wished not to be named, who was there at…”

The hero stumbles into the kitchen, wrenching their usual box from the cupboard. They pour it into a bowl, and all the flakes stay inside.

The drive to work is a blur. They stagger in through the doors and another hero bounds up to give them a pat on the back. “Someone needed to put the trigger on that one,” she says brightly. “They weren’t going down without it. Good job.”

Their routine is shattered; they cringe away from the other hero’s touch. This is wrong. They weren’t meant to get out. They were in a time loop. Where’s the superhero? Where’re his usual concerns about the villain’s destruction?

They know they’re meant to be glad. They broke out of the same loop they’ve been in for two weeks. The relief of a new string of events should be palpable. All the hero can seem to feel, though, is overhanging, gnawing dread.

They’re free. They’re a murderer.

[seruadoric]

unmasked .

incl . xie bi'an and fan wujiu ( wu chang ) , luchino diruse ( evil reptillian )

request . “ with a s/o who often wears a mask to cover their whole face, but when their in private and feel comfortable they take it off ”

content . requested work , possibly ooc , implied poly relationship w/ wu chang , headcanons , gn!reader

XIE doesn't immediately express any curiosity towards it, unlike fan and luchino.

. fan shows more interest in the mask than xie. he understands if it's for your own comfort, and won't force you to take it off for him whether or not you're in a relationship.

. both xie and fan don't pressure you about it and let you take your time with them. the two of them are very loyal and patient, so it's not a worry with them.

. xie is always very gentle and soft with you, he would be happy to see your face. just knowing that you're comfortable enough with him to reveal yourself just like that - it must not be a very easy thing to do.

. but then again, unmasked or not, it will not affect your relationship in any way. he's very loving towards you, and it remains like so.

FAN is more straightforward and outwardly expressive than xie - if he takes interest in your mask, expect a few questions about it.

. though that does not mean that fan would continuously prod about the topic; if he sees that you're uncomfortable with it he would stop immediately. though the reason as to why you wear it remains unknown, he keeps his mouth shut if you express any discomfort about the topic.

. you can't have a good relationship without trust and patience; fan knows that. he tries his best to be patient with you, and doesn't pressure you into anything. he understands your boundaries and doesn't cross them, he just learns how to shut up about it.

. fan understands the gravity of this gesture; he would be grateful that you trust him enough to show your face - something that you wouldn't do for just anyone. maybe after some time of being with him, you finally take it off. fan is proud about that gesture, and you know that he is.

LUCHINO's manic curiosity brings him success in the academic field, yet it also leads him into territories of taboo.

. luchino doesn't strike a conversation with someone first unless he finds them especially interesting. if something about you provoked the curiosity and interest in him, he'd approach you and start a conversation.

. similarly to fan, he may as well ask a few questions out of curiosity - though he understands if you don't want to disclose any of them. he might be a bit persistent on it, but ultimately doesn't mention it again.

. i believe he would be more casual than xie and fan once he sees you bare-faced. he doesn't find it that big of a deal; it's irrelevant to your relationship.

. though he knows and takes that as a sign of trust from you. he trusts you as well - you'd know from how he lets you in on his research and things he usually keeps private from others.

. he's glad you trust him enough, but something so small would never change your relationship. whatever you look like beneath that mask, he'd love you irregardless.

this was just my personal perception of wu chang and luchino, it might be a bit ooc ໒ っ˕ - ১ i've reread their lore multiple times to get a decent grip on their personalities, though i'm not sure if i did a very good job on it ! still, this was very fun to write ໒ ◜ ﻌ ◝ ১

[merrimentsmight]

I could be persuaded to read some cute domestic fluff with Cicero x Listener 🥺

I could also very much be persuaded to read any kind of NSFW about Cicero. Literally doesn't matter what kind, whether he's alone or with Listener or anyone. And bonus point if he's a sub 👀🙈 but honestly anything goes with my funky little jester man, he is so versatile in terms of NSFW, like is it just me?

The common area was hot, the oven full of coals, and Cicero and his Listener were baking boiled cream treats together. He had the jacket of his motley off and draped over a chair, and stood in his undershirt constantly stirring a pot of hot sweetened cream and egg yolks over the fire, sweat glistening on his forehead.

Conversation had fallen into a comfortable lull, but unless he was focused, sneaking, hiding, Cicero could never let silence stretch on too long. “I once met a man, a fair sailor,” he mumbled to himself, half singing half talking, “who thought of his wife as his jailer.” The custard was starting to bubble, it would be done soon. “Well, I took him to bed, left a hole in her head, and we both sailed away feeling haler.” Cicero giggled, and gave the pot a final stir before grabbing it with a thick cloth and removing it from the fire.

“Hmm, is that one true?” asked the Listener, looking up from where they were cutting dough into careful squares. Cicero came up behind them and placed the pot of boiled custard onto the table, where it would probably burn a circle into the unfinished wood.

“Wouldn't you like to know, my jealous Listener?” he asked, standing on the tips of his toes to tuck his face in the crook of their neck, which smelled like spring and powder. He watched them fold in the corners of each of the squares and place them onto a baking sheet, and unhooked himself from around them before grabbing the pot again and dolloping custard into the centers of each folded pastry. 

The Listener raised an eyebrow and picked up the full baking sheet; the raw pastries sliding around as they moved. “You’ve never killed my wife,” they scoffed, and slid the sheet onto the grate over the hot coals, “you've never even offered.” 

Something sparked in Cicero’s eyes from under the cloth he used to wipe his forehead, and he watched them as they bent, watched the shape of their back, the curve of their ass through their clothes. Accosted by a softness inside of him, like his insides were necrosing, full of a neediness that felt like weakness and was weakness but that he would never be free of, he was sure, even when he was dead and in the void, Cicero realized that he needed them now. Not when they were done cooking, or later after they retired to bed, or even in the couple of moments it would take to bring them to somewhere closed off and private. 

By the time they turned back around he was kneeling in front of them, pressing his face into their apron. Crazed, sycophantic, cloying. “Cicero is sorry! He would if you had one! You wouldn’t even have to ask.” Soft lips pressed to the back of the Listener’s hand, and Cicero followed, pivoting on his knees as they readjusted to lean back against the cooking table. 

They looked around. Babette was off killing a healer in Markarth, and the rest of their siblings were, well, dammit, they were adults. More significantly, none of them were immediately present, and Cicero was. He was very real and making himself known, two fingers sliding slowly back and forth beneath the waistband of their pants.

“You're insatiable, aren't you?” they said, feigning annoyance, untying the apron and lying it on the table next to them with a puff of flour.

Cicero nodded, looking up at them with wide eyes, like he was about to start salivating. “Oh, I’d do anything for you, kill anyone for you, please, please, please let me make it all better, show you how I need you...” His voice leveled off into a whine, and sent arousal rolling down the Listener's spine. 

Face hot already, the Listener played along with their overeager fool, “if the food burns I'll be terribly, terribly upset.”

“Mhm,” he laughed, lusty, stupid, lovesick, unbuttoning the Listener's pants as fast as he could manage, and only pulling them down to their thighs before his face was buried in their cunt. His nose pressed into their clit, tongue laving against their labia before he drew back. 

“The Listener has nothing to be jealous of,” said Cicero, pressing his hand up to tease their entrance, “nothing at all.” He jammed two fingers up inside, curling them forward, and his cock throbbed at the choked gasp they made. He dove in, too enthralled for moderation, for buildup, lapping at their clit fast and hard, pushing the Listener’s hips up onto the table so that they could kick off their pants and lock their legs around his shoulders. 

“The sailor didn’t moan like you, my sweet Listener,” said Cicero, fingers anchored and thrusting inside, the Listener starting to fall apart around him already. “He didn't taste like you, didn't follow our Lady.”

They were gripping the table with both hands, squeezing hard, occasionally looking around. It was silly. Cicero would not have stopped no matter who walked in; not until his job was done. It wouldn’t take all that long. The Listener had started to rock their hips, and when they breathed out his name, harsh, like a warning, he knew they were nearly there. 

“He didn't love Cicero like you do,” he said. Simply, finally. He leaned back in to wrap his lips around the Listener’s clit as they cried out, legs shaking, hand shooting out to grip Cicero by the hair and hold him in place as they rode out their orgasm against his face. They couldn't see it, probably couldn't even feel it, but he was grinning. His cock was so hard it was starting to hurt.  

The Listener had to let go of Cicero’s hair to lean back against the table, afraid that if they didn’t prop themselves up they would collapse backwards. “Where did you get so good at that,” they said, and then, “oh, gods, the oven.”

Cicero was able to get to his feet first, and looked over the still baking pastries. “No worries my love, they look perfectly fine,” he said smugly, “Cicero thinks they might even be a little undercooked.”

[allurilove]

How do the classmates react to each other?

Like we HATE yearbook president but can tolerate sub. How do they react to each other on a normal basis? Also how would they react seeing us be friendly with another guy? Even if we aren’t interested in him either.

Yandere Classmate’s

(Honestly maybe they do need names oml)

They tolerate each other at work, well begrudgingly at first. Yandere yearbook guy would be nice to him in front of the customers, but be a total dick in private. Yandere classmate is the only man that gets to see this side of the yearbook guy. They both can sniff out each others true intentions, and yandere classmate knows the yearbook guy is a total phony.

They do team up when they try to get fired/quit from their ice cream job. Yandere classmate just started to hand out free ice creams. And yearbook guy has “principles” so he doesn’t partake in that, instead he flirts with the managers kid and gets fired from that.

At school yandere classmate avoids yearbook guy like the plague. He hates the sight of him, and how he has the whole school wrapped around his finger. Yandere classmate literally has to hold him back from fighting yearbook guy when he purposefully bumped into yandere classmate.

Yearbook guy doesn’t care for yandere classmate- as long as he shuts his mouth about yearbook guys real personality. He thinks it’s funny to bump into the shorter man, I mean he’s built like a damn stick. If yearbook guy breathed on him, he would send yandere classmate flying.

Their beef would be intense. And both men tried to brawl with each other, until yandere classmate decided to play dirty and hit yearbook guy with a rock.

They are both different socially. While yandere classmate prefers to be alone, yearbook guy would be surrounded with his little clique.

Both guys stand there as you talk to another man. Yearbook guy looks at the man up and down, he doesn’t see anything appealing about the other man. He almost feels bad for his retinas for even having to look at him. Yearbook guy sighed and he leans on his locker as he examined how giddy you seemed talking to the other student. He wonders is you are genuinely okay. Like, do you have a fever? Did you hit your head? Because why are you paying attention to that guy, instead of him?

Yandere classmate is more upset about it. This is the only time he can tolerate yandere yearbook guy as they both talk shit about the other man.

“Maybe they fell down a flight of stairs today.” Yearbook guy shrugged nonchalantly. “And it jumbled their brain up.”

“Should I push them down the stairs again? Maybe it’ll snap them out of it…” Yandere classmate mumbles.

Yearbook guy rolled his eyes and smacked yandere classmate on the head, causing yandere classmate to scowl. “Don’t be a dumbass.” yearbook guy groans, and he can’t even believe he’s talking to the twerp.

Your conversation was cut short as you slowly turned behind you to see your two yandere classmates arguing with each other. Yandere classmate tried to yank on the yearbook guys hair, and he just put the smaller man in a chokehold.

[lamamasjamas]

Love at First Sight: A Complication (3/9)

A/n: LOL LOL LOL, continuation of the first pregnancy. Again, if you read this before uhm... no ���. I changed some minor things. I already liked this part so it was fun to reread and revise.

Warning: Dark!Din, Dub-con smut, breeding/pregnancy kink, very heavy with the kinks in this one, Stockholm Syndrome, dark fic!!!

Love at First Sight Masterlist

You watched Din from the kitchen, washing dishes as you were softly reclined against a rocking chair. He gathered enough credits for it after a few bounties off world, he said it was to help you relax, to help you feel better.

You glare from where he stood, drying his hands on a towel at the side of the sink and turning to you slowly with a warm smile. You couldn’t help but think he looked smug.

His eyes roam over your form that you kept hidden with a blanket. His gaze stays on your belly.

You wince as you shift, trying to find a method to have the least amount of pressure on your back. The pain has been building up for months. It was hard to find relief now so late in your pregnancy.

You were slightly overdue. He wasn’t as worried as you and you were practically trying to get him to do something about it since the first few days the complication occurred.

You’ve been begging him to see a doctor for the past month before your due date, but he denied, stating that he knew a lot about pregnancy and birth and that he was practically prepared for anything. You were a bit frightened when he came to you with a vial of pills and tablets one day, claiming they were vitamins.

He said he asked a physician for them but you had a feeling the barrel of his blaster did most of the persuasion. Especially since you only went to the doctor once to confirm your pregnancy and Din refused whatever they wanted to prescribe you, even denying them the chance to talk to you in private and to schedule another appointment.

You didn’t think it was healthy being cooped up in a ship for most of your pregnancy. Ever since he took you, you’ve been idly waiting for him to return each and every day from his missions. You had nothing to do, nothing to think about except him, him, him.

And the child. But taking care of the green baby was more effort than it was before. It used to be a reprieve. A solace. But he stays the same age. He was fifty and he still toddled like a three year old.

He constantly needed attention and care. He’d wander and get himself hurt if you weren’t vigilant. You often wonder if the mandalorian knew he subjected you to constantly be a mother. If you were stuck with him for the rest of your life that is…

That may have been his plan after all.

Din stays longer because of your restrictions in mobility as the child inside of you grew. It makes you feel suffocated. Although everything does at this point.

He moves towards you and you think you would have liked it if he had his armor on. It made him seem less human. As if his depravity was justified.

Your hands shake when he pulls you up from your seat carefully. You’ve been on the verge of crying lately, one because you physically were exhausted and two because he refuses to take you to a doctor or even a midwife often causing you to shun his advances tries for conversation.

He guides you to the bedroom and you pass by the nursery, slightly peeking inside to hear the soft snores of Grogu bundled up in his blankets. Your hand goes to your stomach as you stop for a moment watching the rise and fall of his breaths.

To think soon there would be two little noises of gurgles and giggles in the house. You almost laugh at the predicament. You would have never thought you would be here months ago.

A part of you believed that you would have travelled the galaxy before settling down. You glance at the mad beside you. Maybe in another life, one where he was normal, where he was sane… you would have travelled the universe together, willingly had a family together.

Dins hand puts pressure on your back and you groan. The bedroom seemed like a good idea now, you wanted to lay down. Dins heavy steps creak against the wood as you shuffle to bed, reaching out for the blankets and attempting to crawl to your side of the bed.

He chuckles as you struggle to get comfortable, rearranging and moving things around and then sighing again when it didn’t look or work right. He stops and his face falls when he could see the tears drop against the pillows below you, making the covers darken.

His hands roam frantically over you, finding nothing physically wrong. He frowns and smooths a hand over your head and face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks panicked, his words short and quiet. You sniffle. You couldn’t help but start to ramble.

“I’m so tired and I feel heavy and I need to see someone, something might be wrong with the baby, with me, I just-“

He stops you, holding your hands gently.

“Hey, hey, we’ll go tomorrow, yeah?” His voice was shaky. He was desperate to placate you.

Your tears stop and you calm instantly. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“Okay,” you respond and lay on your side. You really were worried, and scared. You also wanted to go outside. It was a chance to see the world again before you inevitably had to hide in your wooden spacious cottage.

He wrapped you up tightly in winter clothes. He said it was cold when you started to complain, and he was right, but he didn’t have to know that as you stepped out into the snow your teeth clacked slightly before you willed them to stop.

The planet was covered in a soft blanket of white. The homes expelling fumes from their heaters and fire places. You’ve never experienced snow in your home world.

You stared at the open door suddenly feeling nervous to get to know this new village.

The 'trip' was going to be to Grogu's school, since you've never seen it, and straight to the local midwife's home.

Grogu was wearing his mittens and his boots, and you gushed over him when he huffed and puffed from Din putting a hood over his head, protecting his sensitive ears.

You couldn't bend down to pick him up, but Din brought him to your arms and he stopped his whines considerably. Your mobility was further restricted from the fur lined coat placed on top of your shawls.

The sheer amount of clothes you were enveloped in made you look hearty, rather than expectant.

As you shed your layers once entering Grogu's classroom, you still felt as big as before, especially as everyone started to crowd and lean over to watch as the mandalorian carried your coats for you. You sigh, watching as Grogu twaddles off to his friends, giggling and happy.

Everyone was surprised by your presence. They’ve never seen you before, except for the time you arrived a few months back, your stomach was still small, at least smaller, and only a select few were able to catch a glimpse of you if ever when you were out of the house to get some air.

Still, your cottage was located further away from the others. It was bigger as well, with plenty of land around it. Din cared for privacy and only the neighbors were able to keep up with your outdoor appearances.

Rumors spread quickly of the Mandalorian and his “wife”. They thought he was very protective of his family by the way he scoped everyone out the first few days he brought his son to school, almost cold in his demeanor when he asked about the classrooms and their policies.

Din had gone momentarily to speak to a teacher assistant. A droid. You’ve learned of his distaste for droids early on. He keeps you far from them if he can.

He leads the assistant to the side as they try to greet you. Your mouth opens in a polite greeting but Din’s sharp tone cuts the droid off midway.

For a moment you stood there, suddenly feeling your heart beat rapidly in a mix of embarrassment and anxiety.

Many of the parents approached you, asking which child was yours. You pointed towards Grogu, and they gawked, looking to the Mandalorian and wondering what he looked like under the helmet.

They initially thought you were the green one. Now they were wondering if it was him.

As many of the parents chuckled softly and began to pull you into a group of gossipers, your nerves died down.

You appreciated being talked to, maker knows how long it had been since you’ve interacted with anyone.

You gasp when they ask to touch your stomach and you’re suddenly pulled back into a cold and hard chest. Some swooned at the protectiveness and some looked at you in pity, especially when he stared down at the parents talking to you.

You rolled your eyes. They took it as you showing your annoyed fondness towards his actions.

——————————

The walk to the midwife was short, and you didn't have to wait long to be admitted into her makeshift office.

You appreciated the padded chairs and the homey feeling inside. The warm brown walls and the vibrant plants inside made you feel safe. But the midwife, not much older than you, watches in amusement.

Din complains when she orders you to undress quickly after shaking your hand, not yet being told the problem but looking smug as she puts on her gloves.

Your eyes blink up at him pleadingly as you start to shrug your many layers off and she pats on a medical table located further into her cottage. Her warm smile invites you onto the table easily. He sighs loudly, passing over his blaster at his waist pointedly before leaning against the wall next to the doorframe outside.

She rolls her eyes before closing the door softly.

"Very protective, hm?" she mutters cheekily. You nod, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"When was your last check up?"

She sits in front of you, a rolling chair whose creaking wheels make your eyes shift.

"Eight months ago."

Her brows furrow slightly before relaxing again.

"You're really far along, sweetheart," she scolds softly.

You wanted to cry. You felt guilt build up in your stomach, even if it wasn't entirely your fault. Her eyes glance from her notepad to you and she pauses at your anxious state. Your hands shake as you place them over your stomach.

"I think I'm o-overdue..." you stutter worriedly. Her brows shoot up and you start to panic, your eyes start to water, and your breathing picks up. She shushes you gently, her eyes glancing towards the door.

"I'm going to do a checkup for you, okay?"

You breathe in deeply and exhale. Nodding along to the instruction to calm.

The checkup took about an hour, Din was practically pacing outside of the door by the time you came out, smiling tightly and fully dressed again.

The midwife sat you both in her office, which seemed almost comically small for Din's bulking form.

"The baby is fine," you both sigh in relief and she smiles at you, she turns to Din, "I performed a membrane sweep on your wife-"

"I'm not his wife," you interrupt quickly, fiddling with your fingers over your bump. He turns to you in slow silence, obviously irked by your comment. She stares between you both, clearing her throat and continuing.

"Like I was saying, I performed a membrane sweep on her and-"

"What is that?" he demands.

She sighs deeply, maintaining her smile with a strain.

"It's a technique where we take the amniotic membrane off by sweeping over the cervix. Helps her body know that she’s ready."

He nods as if he understood. You sigh.

"The success of the procedure isn’t certain. I suggest other methods of inducing labor as well."

She smiles cheekily as she leans her elbows on her desk, Pressing her hands over her chin and grinning fully at your confusion.

"Of course, the most enjoyable method is to have sex, but there are other methods."

You tense, Din shifts in his seat, watching as she writes down on her notepad and rips the sheet off loudly.

Before she pushed you both out of her door she winked.

He was relatively silent on the walk home and you were buzzing, practically bouncing on your feet as he started opening the door.

He was expecting you to jump him the moment he took off his helmet and you started shedding your coats to the floor. But he was shocked at the way you practically ran, more like waddled, to the kitchen, taking out ingredients for spicy stew.

You didn't even notice him walk out the door to pick up the kid from school, too busy pacing around the house and eating fruit.

During dinner you breathed in and out your mouth wide open, pouring water down your throat from the excess amount of spice you put in your own serving. He shook his head gently at your antics, especially when you went to sleep without even looking in his direction.

——————————

It's been two days; the membrane sweep did not work, and you were getting antsy. You've checked off every single thing off the list, except for the ones that needed a certain partner.

You were getting antsy, your hands were constantly on your belly, almost pushing down as if that would make the baby come out.

The house was warm, Grogu was playing in the common area, gurgling half mumbled numbers as he pushed building blocks and toy ships one by one.

For a brief moment you imagine a baby next to him, a human baby. Brown hair, brown eyes. Playing along.

You brush the window curtains open, the slight chill of the glass migrating to your cheeks. You shiver as you see the image in front of you.

You watch Din's deft fingers work over the panels of his ship, hyper focused on the way they flexed against the metal and the way they gripped tools.

Sparks flew, illuminating his armor and helmet. He grunts in irritation when a weld didn’t come out as well as he’d liked.

He turns. His hands making their way to his hips as he watches you back.

You retreat further into the house when he quirks his head in question of your stare. The moment he entered the household he was met with you waiting at the table for him, food ready at the table and steaming.

Dinner was relatively silent; you were unfocused, and you ate mechanically. You hurried to the bedroom the moment you finished and placed your plate in the sink.

You take a yawning Grogu from his seat and hurriedly strode to the nursery.

He sighs, getting up to wash.

He stood in the hallway, dishes done and left to dry in the rack, watching his son sleep peacefully. The crib next to his empty and half of the room vacant. He sighs, wishing the baby would come soon.

There were two separate bedrooms apart from the main bedroom, each big enough to accommodate two or three children. Grogu had chosen his little siblings toys. The color of the walls.

He was just as excited.

"Din, I need your help," you shout from your bedroom. He comes in immediately.

"What happened?" he shouts back, looking frantically throughout the room.

You were in the bathroom; he ran towards you only to see you in your underwear twisting and turning in front of a mirror.

"Why did you take me?" you ask, tracing over the trimming of lace lining your panties. Your ass looks incredible as you pulled up the waistband over your hips, it bounces as you poke at it, wincing when the cellulite emphasizes over the lighting.

You sigh, looking towards him in a heady stare. He walks over to you, envelopes you in his arms and sighs as you turn your face away from his chest.

"I love you."

"Do you? I don't think you can fall in love so quickly-"

"Well, I did," he says shortly.

You sigh, his hands smooth over your abdomen and you stop his hand, watching him through the mirror intently.

Something was wrong with him, he knew. You drove him to do things he wouldn't do otherwise. It was as if the moment he saw you, something was triggered in his brain. He couldn't function without you now, he would get angry, depressed, demoralized.

You were a necessity now.

"Would you fuck me, Din?" you ask innocently. He shivers at the way your eyes lift lazily up to meet his in the mirror.

You lead his hands under your underwear grinding against his palm as he cups your mound.

His fingers get sucked into your cunt and you sigh. You rest your head against his shoulder.

"Please..." you beg. A quiet okay was said behind your ear and your feet shuffle in anticipation.

His hand quickens and his fingers work you over slowly and firmly. It was as if you were being rocked by a wave, back and forth his palm connects with your clit, rubbing it firmly and then sliding across it, letting it go and doing it over and over again.

You gnaw on your lip, you could feel heat build within you ever so slowly, so gently that you sigh in content. The pain and throbbing of your body was soon forgotten as he led you to the bed, his fingers gliding over your folds and moving to your opening mouth languidly.

You suck his fingers as he laid on the mattress pulling you on top of him. He imagines your sucking motions to be akin to your lips around him, you look into his eyes deeply as your tongue swirls over his digits. He groans, slowly pulling away from your lips and trailing his fingers over your neck and towards your breasts, cupping underneath them and making your eyes roll up.

His chest was firm underneath your hands as you closed your eyes and moved your hips to an invisible rhythm.

The next morning, he would finally notice the red marks marring his skin, as he glances towards you, watching him as you pull the sheets up to your breasts, covering them in an innocence he knew was a farce.

His cock bumps against your cervix repeatedly, and you speed up, feeling him open you up each time your hips met.

You whine when your thighs start to cramp from your desperate movements.

"I-I can't -"

He flips you making sure you bounced and landed carefully on top of the sheets and pillows.

"You want it hard or soft."

You moan.

“Hard. Please.”

He has you with your back against his chest, your legs spread wide as he spears his cock into you quickly. You gasp with each thrust, arching your back against him as he sucks bruises against the tender skin of your neck.

His hips plop against your ass loudly, you had to cover your mouth from the feeling of your slick running down towards his thighs and making you slide easier against him.

You feel pure pleasure, almost as if your body is renewed and numbed down to a form in which pain doesn’t exist. You cum harder than you ever had before in your life and as you fall limply against the sheets, your belly atop a comfy pillow placed under you by Din, you sleep instantly.

He was convinced he made you pass out and for a second he worries, almost sliding his cock out of you before you whined, gripping his hand and pulling him so that his arm would wrap around you, effectively forcing him to stay put.

You shivered when you felt him shove himself deeper inside of you because of the proximity. Eventually when you were deep in sleep, which hasn’t happened in a long time, he pulled out, his seed and your slick rushing out of you.

You woke up that day feeling better than ever, albeit a little sore, but you don’t think you’ve felt that much relief in a while.

As you sit up you groan, the weight of your bump finally getting to you. You look to your side seeing the outline of his half erect cock through the sheets and hold your breath.

He woke up with his cock in your mouth, already hard as you climbed on top of him and started grinding.

He was elated at the fact that you were initiating this. It made him feel as if he was wanted, as if he had a purpose.

You couldn’t agree more as his thick cock stretched you that morning, making you see stars and replacing the aches in your body with pangs of intense pleasure.

——————————

It felt good to be fucked. It felt good for him to tire you out and to sleep from satisfied exhaustion. So, you did it each and every night until you would inevitably go into labor.

It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even worry about how overdue you were, you just wanted the excuse to have him inside of you all of the time.

He was feral for it. He loved your body; it was so plush and swollen and his. The fact that anyone from the outside, when you make him take you out for walks to aid in your predicament, could see that you were carrying his baby made him want to ravish you then and there.

You would often have mothers come up to you now, saying that you were going to have a big baby, and that they would probably be as strong as their father. It made him keen.

The whole village knew you belonged to him, especially as you stuck to his side and huddled for warmth from the heavy winds and the freezing air and especially as you hold his son as if your own, close against your chest as if you haven’t seen him for years even though he was just a walk down a path the whole day.

Everyone thought you were a happy family. They thought that when you wrapped your arm around his you were cherishing your time together, you were, in a way, it was just that you only wanted his cock. He usually took that as a signal to hurry up home, especially when your hands started to wander over his chest plate, supposedly wiping off dust or snow from his armor.

A big and happy family is all he wanted. He was just missing a member at the moment.

——————————

“Fuck, Din, h-harder.”

It's been three days so far. The midwife said you were dilated 1 centimeter. It only made you more desperate for his cum.

Sperm softens the cervix, and a soft cervix prompts dilation.

"I can't-" he groans, holding your hips still and leaning away.

"Please-" You press your ass against his crotch, pressing him deeper into you and making yourself gasp out against the pillows, your drool accumulates and spreads against the pillowcase, prompting you to lick your lips.

"We're so close..." you say pleadingly.

He squeezes your waist, stilling you from bouncing your hips against him.

"Close to what?"

"Our baby," you whine.

You knew him well. You knew what made him tick, and how well you could manipulate your way for something you wanted. That being, getting plowed into the mattress, with the bonus of speeding up the process of labor.

Your voice echoes in his head. Our. You usually referred to them as yours, because you're carrying them and you're going to be the one taking care of them. So you thought.

Also, because you didn't want him, at all and in any form, out of sexual pleasure.

He twitches and you swear you hear him growl. A shiver runs down your spine and you push him further.

"I want to give you a baby. Don't you want me to?" you murmur moaning and whiny, mimicking the women in holos usually seen in your same position.

Your hand moves under the swell of your belly, making you wince from the uncomfortable position and connect with your clit. You circle your hips, feeling him start to thrust lightly against you.

"You can put another in me after..."

His fingers meet yours and rub with you. You almost scoff against the pillow from his sudden eagerness, but your breath catches from a particularly hard thrust.

"I'll give you as many children as you want," you blurt out as you feel your body heat up quickly. You didn't have a filter anymore, your mind was shrouded in the feeling he was giving you, in the need to reach completion.

"Please- I want to expand- mph, our clan-"

He hushes you, thrusting into you with precision and pushing you into the sheets below careful to not put pressure on your stomach. You didn't even notice that he turned you over, your back hit the mattress, his hands pinning you beneath him. His mouth glides along the valley of your tits.

His tongue slides over to your swollen and dark nipple, helping him engulf your fatty tissue into his mouth. He sucks in pulses.

He lifts your ass in the air, pressing himself as deep as he could go before pulling out and thrusting in again. His pelvis slides against your clit each time his cock meets your cervix.

You come apart with a tremble and a high-pitched whine. He groans into your breast, sucking until your milk coats the inside of his mouth. Your back slowly lowers back into the soft blankets and he holds himself up, his head buried in your breasts.

You sigh, pressing your hands against his hair as the pressure on your chest was being relieved. His cock was pulsing in time with his suckles.

Your nails were scratching behind his head, caressing his brown locks and smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone.

He came with a long groan, still inside of you, when you tug on his locks after he bit you lightly.

He lifts his head, his eyes search your own blissed out ones, half lowered and drowsy. When he kisses you, you respond back sensually, slowly and as if you meant it.

It stung him.

The only way he could get you to show him affection was if you were in a state of euphoria and not your complete self. You grumble as his lips start to part yours.

"I'm tired," you mumble. He chuckles, nodding his head, helping you shrug some pillows under yourself and placing his body behind you. You hum as you press your head against the pillow.

His lips meet your earlobe and you smile lightly, still in a daze. You pause when he speaks, lowly.

"I will get you swollen again. I know you; you seem to forget that. I know your using me to get off, but any words said to me are a promise."

Despite yourself and despite everything else you clench around him, a quiet moan escaping you as he presses himself against your back and slid back into you slowly.

The very next day the contractions hit, he carried you to the midwife across town and you met a very beautiful, yet slimy, chubby baby.

Your eyes softened when he first handled her with gentle care, as if she were made of glass. He smiled, almost grinned, when she gurgled and moved her head from side to side, looking for you.

You forced your hands to stop shaking when you gently cradled her to your chest. Staring into her eyes as they opened slowly, you truly started to believe it wasn’t unbelievable he fell in love with you so quickly.

A/n: Reblogs and Comments much appreciated lol. 🥰❤️ mwah! 💋