#at least those are the songs I kept thinking of while drawing them

[chibishortdeath]

R.I.P Simon Belmont, he woulda loved the 80s 😔

[sysig]

Bad time of it, all things considered (Patreon)

[cc--2224]

I'll Show You Heaven

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair

Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Word Count: ~6.4k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 

You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.

You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.

You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 

He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 

And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 

You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.

"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 

Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 

He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 

"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 

"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.

"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?

Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 

Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.

You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 

Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 

"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.

"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."

The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.

You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.

He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 

"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.

You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 

You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.

He hummed in response.

"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.

"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.

— — —

“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.

Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.

“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”

“Again,” Tech chimed in.

“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 

“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 

His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”

The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.

Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 

“No promises.”

He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.

This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.

But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 

The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 

Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 

He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 

He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 

He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.

He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 

As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 

This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.

He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.

But would it be so bad if you did? 

— — —

Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 

Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 

He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 

"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.

He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."

He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."

You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."

Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."

"Did the Reg apologize to you?"

"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.

"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.

"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."

He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."

Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.

"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 

"Crosshair." 

You smirked then told him yours. 

"Where's the rest of your squad today?"

"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."

He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.

You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.

"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 

You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.

Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.

You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 

You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.

— — —

Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 

It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.

You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 

"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.

"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."

He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.

"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."

He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 

Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.

You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.

He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.

"What are you doing?" 

"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."

He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."

"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.

"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.

"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."

He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."

"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."

"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.

"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”

He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.

“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.

He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.

“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.

He walked back over to you, “Of course.”

He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.

"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.

"You sure?" 

You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.

He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.

He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.

"Make yourself at home." You told him.

He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 

"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 

You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.

"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."

He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  

"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"

"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."

You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.

"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.

"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 

You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 

His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.

"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.

"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”

His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 

He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.

Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 

Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.

His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.

His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.

"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 

You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 

You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.

He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.

"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."

His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."

"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."

"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 

You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 

When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.

He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 

When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.

He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.

"Come here," you said, your voice low.

He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.

"Closer." You breathed. 

He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.

"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.

"Yes, please, Crosshair." 

He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.

You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 

He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.

He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.

Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.

"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.

"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.

"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 

His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.

His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.

"Say it again." He said against your centre.

"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.

"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.

He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.

You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.

You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.

"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 

He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.

His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.

"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."

He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.

Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."

His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.

It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.

He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.

“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.

He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 

“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”

His cock twitched against his jeans.

“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.

“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 

Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 

You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.

“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.

Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.

You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.

“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.

You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 

You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 

“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 

“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.

You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.

He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 

You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 

“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 

You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 

You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.

His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.

“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 

You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.

“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 

You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 

He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.

He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 

“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 

You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.

His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 

“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 

His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.

His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.

“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 

He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.

You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.

“You gonna be good for me?” 

He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.

“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.

Heaven. 

That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 

Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 

You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 

“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 

He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 

You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.

“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.

“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 

You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 

His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 

“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.

His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.

“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.

“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”

You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.

“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 

He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.

“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”

The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.

“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”

“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 

His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.

“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.

He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.

Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 

“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 

You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.

“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.

“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.

“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.

“Please.” 

He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.

“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.

“Hm?”

“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”

You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 

He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.

“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.

“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”

You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.

[wintersongstress]

— mornings ;

In the time of spring when the bark of trees and the flat of pavements were washed with rain, Simon liked to visit the farmer’s market after his morning run. He had left you today in your shared bed, doubtlessly still dreaming as the sun dithered behind the veil of clouds, and shrugged on a hoodie, getting his trainers out from a rack in the closet. His route was dewy with a gentle mist, not enough to keep people from going about their day, but it was the good kind that cleaned the city air and sweetened the long brooms of blossoms hanging over the sidewalks.

The canopy over a flower stall dripped onto his hood as Simon stepped underneath it. Bundles of flowers were arranged in buckets with chalkboard plates sticking out, the signs advertising 3 for £10, and he browsed for a bit, thinking of you.

There was a time when all Simon knew about flowers was the memory of a window box in his childhood kitchen. Long gone, he remembers his mother potting red and pink flowers and relishing the process—the fulfilling feeling of dirt beneath her fingernails and the satisfaction of roots tenderly planted. One day a hummingbird flitted to the window while he ate his toast before school, and it was a still moment of wonder as the tiny bird prodded the ruby petals before zipping on, quick as light.

Now he was in love with his own hummingbird. A love rare and fleeting, one that, when you don’t catch it in your hands and earn every moment of keeping it, would flutter away and never return. Love could speak in flowers, he decided, when he first began to visit your flat and admire the fresh bouquet you kept on your table every time he came. I like them, you had said simply, and he smoothed a petal between his two fingers. And though he saw himself as a brute with hands better suited for violence than caresses, he wanted to learn about the gentler things in life he once thought could never be part of his.

Simon frees his nose from his face mask to smell a strange spire of green, bell-shaped flowers he had never seen before.

“Those are called Bells of Ireland,” the aproned shop lady pipes up from behind her booth. He glances over and finds she isn’t put off by his tall, dark, and out-of-place presence in the least.

“I’ll take them,” he replies. Their scent was light and earthy, like mint and lavender mingled, and their bells resemble leaves with their vein-like texture. Rare and exquisite, and perfectly you. He also picks out a cluster of mauve roses and peachy ranunculus, thinking about the way you smiled with your eyes closed when you smell his bouquets, your lips still curved when you kiss him afterwards, and lays them all on the counter.

“What a lucky girl,” the woman comments, gathering his selections and bundling them in wax paper secured with a rubber band. Simon wasn’t so sure. He always thought you could do better than him, but you would never let him catch himself thinking like that out loud. No matter what he believed of his nature, he vowed to fight like hell to be the kind of man you did deserve. So he pays the woman and bids her good day, heading on to the next stall with you on his mind as he picks out fresh strawberries and bread for the beginning ingredients of a wholesome breakfast. 

At home, Simon fills a vase with the tap and trims the flower stems, arranging each fragrant bloom in harmony with the other. He brews one of your favorite teas and sets out the honey, tending to a sizzling pan in between, then decides to open your bedroom window to gently wake you.

A warm and pleasant wind sways the curtains. Amidst their wispy movements you lay on your back, breathing deep and slow, until the song of church bells and finches twittering from the chimney tops flutters your lashes to take in the tranquil morning. Simon draws his knuckles across your forehead and follows your cheek. With sleep soft in your pretty eyes, this was his favorite view of you.

“There she is, my everything,” he murmurs.

“Hmm. I was dreaming.” With a brush of his thumb over your smiling lips, you open your eyes and gaze at him warmly, happily, holding his hand there.

Funny…he muses.

You kiss his caressing hand. “You smell like oranges.”

“I made breakfast.”

And with that you’re throwing the comforter back, springing to your feet and wrapping a sweater around your nightgown-clad form.

“It’s not going anywhere, love,” he chuckles. These mornings were you had the whole day together were his favorite. You sat out on the balcony, taking in the trees with their sprouting green tips and cutting into your French toast, planning your day together with your bare foot resting over his socked one. The sunshine of your presence fills the depths of his chest to the brim with contentment, and he wants it to last forever.

[queentala]

Random small headcanons for my fav SJM men

Those are totally random thoughts I had and just kept collecting, also I'll be adding new ones when I'll come up with something. Feel free to reblog and add yours <3

I think Gavriel can draw really well, especially with pencil. Like, you know, he's a really precise and detailed guy, plus thanks to his soldier skills he has really stable hands, and it just sits right with me

Azriel loves when you paint his nails black. Also once you made him wear eyeliner and he actually really liked the results, so now from time to time he lets you do it

Aedion has his ears pierced but doesn't wear any earrings (it was probably a dare, even more likely he was drunk then)

Ruhn likes to have a small, faint lamp put on when he sleeps. It looks like a white sparkle and doesn't cast much light but having it next to his bed makes him feel somehow more safe and comfy

Also, he loves being held while sleeping. When you let him snuggle to your chest and hold him tight... It's his paradise, he can stay like this for eternity

Cassian is very ticklish (especially on feet). It's actually his secret because, come on, he's the Lord of Bloodshed, how can he be ticklish? And of course you fully respect that, not wanting his reputation to suffer, however, when it's just the two of you... Let's say Cass has to be pretty alert most times as you love to take advantage of that

Fenrys always brings you a plushie from his travels to foreign countries. Actually, he brings you many different things like jewellery, dresses, combs, mirrors, gems... everything. But a plushie, is a must. You have a whole collection of small cute stuffed animals (mostly wolves) from different parts of the world. Every one of them has a name, personality and a back story which you and Fenrys always come up with

Aedion is a horse girl. He rides so well and just loved being around those animals since he was a little boy. Often he takes you on all day long trips around Terrasen. Also he has few of his favorite horses and he spoils them so much, they're just his babies.

He also probably has like six dogs and wants to adopt every one he sees on the street

Lorcan most of the times either doesn't cuddle or is the big spoon. However, after really hard day he loves to fall asleep with his face in your breasts and his hair stroked

Sometimes when Rowan is engrossed in his work, he hums songs mindlessly

Fenrys talks in his sleep, and this goes to the point where you can literally argue with him or have a whole conversation as he's asleep

Aedion swears a lot. Gavriel doesn't swear almost ever and his face when Aedion starts throwing curses he could never imagine is just priceless

However, Gavriel knows many langues. So, whenever he's angry and finally hit his breaking point, he starts shit talking and insulting everyone in a foreign langue no one knows (just imagine him aggressively talking to himself in Spanish while walking around and throwing hands in the air lol)

Cassian always sleeps naked and refuses (will literally get offended) to do otherwise, even if there are different people sleeping in the room (read: Azriel)

Dorian baby talks to his dogs. Sometimes when he does this he forgets that he is a king and then have the whole castle talking about it for the next week (people find it adorable though. some of them at least.)

Rowan always has some blades with him. Always. Dude could be standing in the room only in his boxers and still proceed to pull out a knife from gods know where

Also, he will never admit it but he has some of his favorite blades that he had named. But if you'd ever done this he would laugh at you

Once you've gotten Ruhn a bracelet for his birthday that was a guitar pick of his favorite guitarist on a black string and from then he doesn't take it off. Ever.

We know Ruhn has this very rare and useful ability to speak in people's minds, however his favorite way to use those abilities is to make the dumbest jokes in your head in the most random moments and watch you burst out laughing around all those strangers that have no idea what is going on

GAVRIEL HAS DIMPLES

AND SO FUCKING DOES AEDION

(he also got the big d genes from him but it's the topic for other post)

So, Fenrys is a master at coming up with the weirdest nicknames for his loved one, however, no one compares to Cassian in this matter. His creativity sometimes is more than flesh and blood can bear

Lorcan is actually the biggest girl dad

Let's be honest, Dorian has better skin care than any lady in the whole sjm universe

Cassian loves being called your pretty princess

Azriel loves puzzles. And Legos! There's no better way to spend your day off than building castles and forts, and then having an actual battle between your kingdoms

Bat boys are not really fond of thunder... I think they have bad experiences with flying during storm and it haunts them to this day. They always want to be the little spoons and be cuddled when there's a storm outside

Azriel has bat slippers and Fenrys has wolf or bunny slippers

Dorian loves wearing sygnets. He has so many and you're simply obsessed with them. He's a king, he has to look decent, you know, but Dorian loves wearing them even if it's just the two of you snuggling or sitting in the library reading. Or when he fucks you and you can feel them dig into your skin when he grabs your ass..

Lorcan enjoys having his hair combed. He just melts when you do it. And if you do a little braid somewhere on his head he will keep it and wear it for the next few days

Gavriel is the best dancer you will ever meet. On the balls he can easily make everyone's attention turn to the two of you. But he also likes to dance with you in your house or chambers, where there are no people or music, and to be honest both of you like those moments much better

To be continued....

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 18 - Sapling

📖 This is it - The one song that inspired this entire fic. It’s so bittersweet I’ve gotten to this point. When I posted Part 1: Be Still, a small part of me thought I’d never get here.

I know everyone is probably sick of me saying thank you, but I honestly cannot stop. I could have never imagined the support or the amount of people who’ve loved this story as much as I’ve loved writing it. Whether you’ve been here since I posted all those months ago or just started reading, I cannot describe how important each and every one of you is to me.

Here’s Part 18: Sapling - The one I’ve been waiting for 💛

(If there was ever a song to listen to for this story, even though I know most of you guys don't, this one is it. I hope you do💛) . It's Liz through and through/and the one after this one, but more on that later.)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, sexual themes, angst, fluff, deployments, apologies, and mentions of shitty family dynamics.

# 5k words

Part 17 | Masterlist | Part 19

"Attention on Deck!"

Jake and Bradley stood in sync in the empty hanger, the sound of metal chairs scraping across the hard stone floor. Much like the day they were called in for the Uranium run, the space had been turned into a mock classroom. Only two desks sat before the podium this time, and Jake and Bradley were the only ones who had been requested to report.

Jake kept his eyes forward as two pairs of footsteps echoed off the hangar floor behind him. Cyclone appeared in the corner of his eye, the man holding two manila envelopes and a thick black binder. He wondered what awaited him or Rooster in those files. While Maverick had torn them apart for the dramatic display, he wouldn't be surprised if Cyclone suddenly decided that wasn't enough.

But Jake could only think it made sense the patterns and exercises they had been flying for the past week were in preparation for something greater.

At least, he hoped they weren't getting kicked out.

But as Cyclone each tossed a folder in front of him and Bradley, Maverick trailing close behind indicated it had to be something worse. Even with his eyes facing forward, Jake could catch the look on the Captain's face out of the corner of his eye.

Worried and apprehensive.

Jake had an answer to his question. It wasn't a reprimand from his and Bradley's dangerous flying from the week previous.

This was a special deployment.

Cyclone stepped up onto the podium, not once lifting his eyes as he dropped the binder down to the wooden surface, stating, "You may be seated."

Jake and Bradley did as they were told, instantly reaching for the papers in front of them.

"Good afternoon." Cyclone finally looked up and nodded to the pair. "Intelligence has gotten word of another illegal facility violating United Nation’s Peace Treaty accords. The flight tests you and your team have been flying these past weeks were a simulation of the area we expect to the best of our intelligence."

Most of what Cyclone was saying flew over Jake’s head. Not after Cyclone explained the stakes. Not after Jake started to read the mission report. Next-generation fighter jets. In enemy hands. And they wanted an air assist while they went after the factory responsible for making them.

Even if he believed he was the best, there was too much at stake for him to say he could make it out of there unscathed confidently.

This was the literal fucking definition of a suicide run.

Rooster suddenly pipped up from beside him as Cyclone paused. "Has the rest of the Squad been briefed, sir?"

Cyclone started him down, his face emotionless. "You misunderstand me, son."

Maverick bowed his head as Cyclone continued, "Only the both of you are going. This is a two-person run."

Bradley side-eyed Jake, who leaned forward slightly to gauge his reaction. All Jake could do was draw in a sharp breath.

"Take it for what you will, gentlemen. Looks like the Navy was impressed with your reckless display and wanted to award your bad behaviour," he remarked, turning the pages of the files before him.

"Now, the factory will be taken care of by ground forces. The technology and the data within the facility are too valuable to be destroyed. We need two F-18s to assist..."

Jake began to drown him out, despite his instincts telling him otherwise. Cyclone explaining everything to them was only a formality, a chance for them to ask questions. Jake didn't need to. Everything he needed to know would be in the brief.

Time.

That's what was on Jake's mind.

How much time did he have left?

How much time did he have left to make it right?

How much did he have left to give to you? And make it up to Sadie?

He jolted slightly when Cyclone hit the edge of his binder against the edge of the podium.

"Get your affairs in order," the older man commanded, walking away. "You have till 22:00 today."

---

The thick fog settling over your neighbourhood this late at night wasn't helping your current mood. You were extremely uncomfortable at the errieness, the dimly lit street lamps casting an unreal green glow. You couldn't even see beyond the neighbours' backyard from your kitchen window.

The rest of the house was silent, too. The lack of noise indicated the place was empty, except for the occasional creek or rustle of a tree branch against the roof. You were utterly alone, with nothing but your thoughts as company.

You wish you could say it was a welcome notion.

With everything that had happened the night Tyler was arrested, Penny closed The Hard Deck for the week, waiting for the insurance money to come through. The damage wasn't as bad as it could have been, and she didn't really need to close it down, but in a way, you realized she was probably using the chance to take a break.

Or at least try to give you one.

So, she decided to go sailing. That's where Sadie was, sleeping over at her place so they could go out on the water tomorrow. Penny had offered to take you as well.

You had refused.

It was funny to think you suddenly needed to process what had happened - you had never been good at processing shit before, so why would this time change that now?

Maybe you just wanted to be alone.

Even the cup of tea you made wasn't helping, having long since gone cold and still practically full. You didn't know what to think, finally alone for the first time in a while, finally finding the opportunity to allow yourself to sit and process.

And you still couldn't bring yourself to do it.

It wasn't as if you didn't know what you should be thinking about. You were thinking about all of it... Tyler, Sadie, Jake... and..

No, not that one yet.

Each thought was laid out in your head like an itemized list, neatly written and bullet-pointed. Each stood out on their own, colour-coded and organized into categories to the point you couldn't do anything more with them. Picturing each in your mind was easy, but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything beyond that.

Something was stopping you from going deeper. Maybe you didn’t want to admit you didn’t know how.

A hard couple of knocks on your front door startled you out of your trance, echoing through the quiet house. It took you a moment to acknowledge them and realize they were, in fact, coming from your front door. You placed your mug on your kitchen table, scraping your chair along the title as you made your way to the front hallway.

It wasn’t quick enough for the person on the other side of the door, impatiently knocking their knuckles against the wood in rapid succession again. The sound quickened your pace, socked feet on the coarse rug thumping with each step.

In retaliation to the urgent knocks, you ripped the door open in an aggressive pull, only to find Jake hunched over, forearm resting on your doorframe. His head was bowed, handing low between his shoulders until he realized you had finally opened the door. Lifting his head, several emotions flashed across his face. Hope. Despair. Then, determination, with wide and wild eyes staring back at you.

You realized he was dressed in his flight suit, his hair was flicked back, and his face looked like it had been freshly shaven.

And he was panting like he had run a marathon.

“Jake?”

"I thought we would have more time," he heaved roughly. "I thought we had all the time in the world to figure this out. For me to find a million different ways to say I'm sorry for what I said. For what I did."

The corners of your mouth quivered, and your eyebrows furrowed, knitting together.

"No matter the length of time, I never would have gotten it right. Because there is no right way to apologize for what I said,” he lamented.

He opened his mouth to say something else but froze, the words dying in his throat like he suddenly lost whatever drive he had while coming here. Pushing himself off the frame, he turned towards your driveway, looking lost. With his back facing you, he reached for the bannister of your front porch, leaning over and bowing his head between shoulders.

You didn't know what else to do except remain frozen in your doorway, watching him look utterly defeated.

“Rooster and I got called up. It’s dangerous. Extremely dangerous,” he said, his voice low. “I might be the best, but even this one worries me.”

Whatever feelings of anger or resentment you had been carrying towards Jake were suddenly overpowered by concern.

Despite knowing you would never be privy to the details of the Navy, you found yourself stepping forward, a hand reaching out as you asked, “How dangerous?!”

You stopped yourself from touching his shoulder when he lifted his head, a sad smile on his face as he looked out to your yard. “You know we can’t tell you more than that, Darlin’.”

You crossed your arms below your breasts instead, gripping your elbows with a hint of apprehension as you gulped. “Do you know how long?”

He dropped his head again, shaking it while doing so. “At least a month, maybe two.”

A month, even two, was too long. Not when… You didn’t even know. You didn’t even know what to say or to do. Because Jake had hurt you, had protected you, and then shown up on your literal doorstep late at night before another deployment to leave all his cards on the table.

Sarcasm, sass, or any attitude or brave face you've ever used from behind that fucking bar couldn't save you from this. Not when Jake was facing yet another death sentence.

That fact alone made your heart break just a little bit further.

“George called me,” he told you, filling the silence. “Said the first thing he did was kick the hell bringer off the ranch. I didn’t trust him. But then Janet called, saying his name was on the deed for some tax reasons, so George had every right.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you joined him, coming to stand next to him and gripping the front railing tight. It almost hurt - the way the wood felt under your nails.

"I never expected that. I never expected George to seek me out after what I did to him either. I honestly thought he'd report home, saying the damage had been done," Jake sighed, rocking his shoulders back and forth. "But he did. And the first thing he did was admit he was scared of you."

You dropped your chin to your chest. You couldn’t deny that maybe a little bit of shame was starting to eat away at your stomach. Yelling at George was more than just you being upset at both Seresin brothers. It was a deep-seated weight you had been carrying for too long, waiting for any moment it could unleash itself. George and Jake… had been the perfect excuse to scapegoat the underlying issue you refused to acknowledge in yourself.

Jake straightened himself, turning to face you with a bated breath. You spun with him, leaving your one hand on the railing.

"He told me the reason he wanted to change was not that I had shown him up at darts or that you had torn him apart with your words, but that either one of us should’ve to begin with. You made him realize that.”

You failed to notice Jake’s hand slowly sliding along the bannister, inching closer to yours.

"My relationship with him is anything but fixed. He is more of an asshole than I could ever be. But when I told him he needed to live his own life, he said he couldn’t claim anything he had earned for himself without the hell-bringer handing it to him. Or say he did it with good intentions.”

It wasn’t a shock when Jake slid his hand over the top of yours, gently curving his fingers around your wrist. In fact, you let him, allowing him to pull you towards him as he stepped closer gently.

“But he also said he found you on the beach the night Tyler stormed the bar.”

You failed to hide your grimace at the mention of Tyler’s name, and Jake offered a sad smile. “He said he tried to make things right. Because after I quoted a dead president, he took what you said to him to heart..”

You swallowed hard, knowing just exactly what George had been referring to. It was the same point you made when you yelled at him, the words echoing in your head.

‘So you can gallivant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours?’

And when you asked point blank on the beach the last time, he had been happy. Which was when he did something for himself.

"He's never thought highly of me, but he said meeting you and Sadie was the best damn thing I could have ever done." Jake reached for your other hand, looking down. "Because my arena has two people willing to be in it with me, no matter what I've done."

“I’ve always loved that quote,” you laughed quietly to yourself, trying to avert your eyes.

“I know,” he replied sadly. “It was in a worn book on your bookcase.”

You lift your head, finally allowing yourself to stare into his eyes. It pains you to think you had forgotten how green they were. And how easy it was to get lost in them when so much happened between you.

"I should have let you explain yourself that day."

Jake huffed a small laugh, reaching up to stroke a piece of hair away from your face. “I shouldn’t have said those words to begin with. And not that it’s worth anything, I’m so sorry they did.”

Jake doesn't drop his hand but rather cups the side of your face.

"But you deserve more than an apology on the eve of a deployment. It's not fair to you. But I have to try because there is a chance I might not be able to. Because I'm trying to listen to the advice of a ten-year-old girl who once said she believed in me.

The admission guts you. Sadie’s impact on the world and those around you would always gut you.

“So let me be honest with you now before I don’t have the chance to,” He urged, his thumb caressing under your eye and across your cheek. "I'm in love with you, Elizabeth Beck."

A strangled sob tore from your throat, attempting to pull your hand out of Jake's and your face away from his touch. He was quicker, tugging you forward into his chest with a hand on the back of your neck. You were too weak to protest, allowing yourself to be pulled towards him.

"No, you're not running from this, darlin'," he shushed you, both arms encasing themselves around your waist, preventing you from escaping. "Not this time."

You couldn't do anything but cup your face in your hands, pressing yourself against his chest and sobbing. Tilting his head down, he whispered gently against your ear, "I'm not saying it to hear it back. I'm telling you so you never doubt that I do."

Strange enough, you didn’t doubt him. Not ever - even when he had hurt you.

He kissed your collarbone once through the thick fabric of your sweater, feeling as if he had touched your bare skin. He took a deep breath under your hands, body heaving up once as he gathered the courage to continue.

“Darlin,” he whispered. “ I know I can’t ask this of you, but I can only hope you love me back. Even after… Because I know how badly I fucked up. For a split second, back at the Hard Deck, I thought you would be better off without me."

"You hurt me, Jake," you cried into his chest. "You said those things..."

"I know, darlin'," his voice sounded broken next to your ear. "I went for the things I knew you'd leave me for, not because I believed them. Just the opposite. You didn't need me in your life, in Sadie's life, when I have so much baggage following me around. You didn't need another pair of assholes tainting your life, whether it be George, the hell bringer, or myself."

You gripped his flight suit tight at his confession.

"Then Sadie cornered me on the beach. And told me to get my shit together or not bother coming around anymore. Because you two would be just fine without me," he sniffed. "And it fucking hurt coming from her."

"Oh, Bug," you coo. You're not mad at her for going against your rule.

“I can’t promise I’m not going to fuck it up again. I’m the furthest thing from perfect compared to everyone I know. But I promise, I won't stop trying to get it right or at least stop at how many times I have to apologize to you for being me.”

You hate him. You hate him.

Except you don’t.

“I brought you your favourite flowers the first time I apologized because I couldn’t offer anything else. And I cannot bring you flowers when I’m apologizing for a second time, not because tulips are currently out of season, but because a man shouldn’t do that when apologizing to the woman he loves.”

He let go of your hip to stroke a piece of your hair behind your ear before pressing his lips to your forehead, letting them rest there for a moment.

“I should give them to you just because I can,” he murmured against your skin.

As Jake pulled back from you, he reached down to the side pocket of his flight suit against his thigh, his hand a firm fist as he pulled out something attached to a balled chain.

“So, I can’t ask you to forgive me, Elizabeth. Or even to wait for me. I don’t know what will happen when I am gone. Or if I’m worth accepting an apology from.”

He grabbed your wrist gently, pulling it up between the two of you, only to press something metal into your hand. But rather than let go, he threaded his fingers through yours, keeping the object between the palms of your hands, the chain dangling between.

“But if you can still find it in your heart to trust me, trust me when I say I want you and Sadie in my life. It’s you two or nothing at all,” he croaked, before adding, “I broke my ways for a literature-loving bartender and her ten-year-old niece because they both chose me knowing I am probably the most flawed human being, besides that asshole, ever to grace their path.”

You sobbed at that.

“If I make it back…” he trailed off. You shook your head vehemently. “When you make it back…” You corrected him. Yet, a small part of you died inside when he gave you a hesitant, bittersweet smile.

“I want you to tell me your answer then.”

Jake let go of your hand, leaving behind and revealing a pair of worn dog tags, making you gasp.

“I want these to stay with you until then. So you know I’m with you. Always.”

"Jake.. I can't.." you stuttered.

He ignored you, grabbing them from your hand to grab the chain in both hands. “They’re my first pair. My current set is in my bag.”

Watching him lift and guide the chain over your head, the protest dies on your lips. The intimate act brought him close enough to feel his breath on your face. The weight of the dog tags was a new feeling on your sternum.

"You know, in basic, they scare the hell out of you with these," he said, grabbing one of them and holding it between you. "Tell you that if you crash and burn, these are the bits they use to ID whatever's left."

He glanced away, eyes briefly distant. "They find you, leave one tag, take the other." He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Guess it's also their way of grounding you, reminding you of what’s at stake."

You stared at the tags between the two of you, gulping hard. 

"For me, giving you them is... it's not just some sentimental crap. It's me leaving a bit of myself with you, no matter what happens." 

Your breath hitched, and as he dropped the tag, a new weight was placed on your chest. The fog around you seemed to grow thicker, and if you didn't know any better, you would have blamed it for constricting your breath. 

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "Jake, I... I haven't... I haven't fully dealt with losing her," you whispered, trembling.

"I know you haven't, darlin'," he mumbled, wiping away another stream of tears on your face. "And I'm only adding another burden to your plate." 

Jake leaned forward to press another kiss to your forehead before peering down at your face, taking in the sheer devastation. He caressed your bottom lip, huffing affectionately, “I guess it's only fair. I broke your heart. You need to break mine, too.”

“Jake…” 

As you reached out, your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Your hands moved around to his back, sliding up against his shoulder blades. He was tall and broad. And as you tried to pull him into you, your arms didn't stretch enough. You wanted to hold to so many parts of him, latch on in hopes he wouldn't leave you so soon. 

You don't know how long you stood like this, on your porch in the fog, holding on to each other. It took you a while, but you eventually realized the two of you started to sway in a silent rhythm, back and forth gently. 

The action was so reminiscent of the night he drove you home. When he found you closing by yourself and swept you into his arms - before everything became so chaotic. 

It makes you look back on every memory with him, like a film reel in vivid technicolour. 

Water and Sand, a Mona Lisa smile. Math homework and Sadie's cheeky smile. Yellow flowers in apologetic hands. Dirty dishes and clean slates. A game of darts and an almost kiss. Walking next to mountains and trees. Poloarids, video chats, and scary moments. Fireworks on New Year's Eve, to a slow dance in safe arms. 

Thunderstorms and Sadie's tears to passionate kisses. First dates, Ferris wheels, Sadie in the hospital, and Jake catching your tears. Bradley lashing out, and Jake standing by. 

Purple blues and orange-reds, the sunset colours that made you cry for your sister for the first time since you don't remember when. 

Looking back on what was leaves you wondering what will be. 

Jake's voice cuts through the silence, faintly humming a Chris Stapleton song. Your voice is muffled against his chest. "I wanted to take you to a country concert for a date."

You felt him smile against the top of your head. "Would you have let me pick you up and put you on my shoulders?"

You huffed affectionately into the fabric of his suit, turning your head to rest your cheek against his chest. “Oh, people would have hated us for that.”

He laughs quietly. “I’m sure you would have come up with something sharp and witty to reply with.”

“Enough to get us thrown out?”

“I could always pull the military service card.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Jake chuckled softly into your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying on your front porch under the green-lit fog. Not that you would have noticed. You were too busy trying to imprint this into your memory. How he felt holding you, how he smelled, the sensations in your chest. Or how his heart felt beating under your ear.

Until the alarm on his watch ruined it all, and he stepped away from you, pressing another long kiss to your forehead. You felt him grimace each time he tried to pull away.

"I have to go, darlin'," he murmured. "I have to report in 30. Otherwise, I'd drag you inside and abandon my post."

I would have let you.

As Jake lets you go, you reach out to grip the railing again. Before he turns to leave, he says with a smile, "Send me letters if you can."

Watching him proceeding down your front steps, your heart ached in a way it never had before. Your hand moved to the dog tags, gripping them tightly. 

The idea of losing Jake, never seeing that cocky grin or hearing his sarcastic quips again, was paralyzing. But even more terrifying was the thought of him leaving without knowing how you truly felt.

If he were to... no.

You couldn't wait. You couldn't let him leave with things unsaid. The fog outside was thick, and Jake's form was about to become a silhouette in the distance, but you wouldn't let him leave without knowing.

"Jake!"

Running down the steps of your porch, you flung yourself towards him. He spun, eyes wide as you reached for his face, hands cradling either side of his jaw as you pulled him down, pressing your lips to his.

You put everything into that kiss, struggling to breathe, fearing you would lose him before you could ever truly be with him. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, moulding his lips to yours. And with each press, you commit them to memory, pushing away the thought this may be the last time you could.

You were already struggling to grasp the death of someone you loved. You couldn't survive a second.

Jake always kissed you like he was a man starved of affection. This time, he was holding himself back, hands deliberately resting lightly on your hips, unmoving and researching. His kisses were less than firm, hesitant against your more urgent ones.

It gave you the strength to continue pressing on.

You pulled back with a gasp, looking him square in the eyes. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me you love me and expect me not to say anything. Not to call you out for your shitty perception of yourself when you, Jake fucking Seresin, are worth it."

You can feel the heat on your cheeks and more tears running freely down the sides of your face.

"I do forgive you,“ you rushed out in a breath. “I forgive you for all your faults and everything you will ever do to me, whether you are Jake Seresin or fucking Hangman. Life is short, and... and.. if I woke one morning to find you were gone,  I would never find the strength to carry on had you not known that I lo.."

Jake didn't let you finish, quickly grabbing the sides of your face to kiss you roughly, all open mouth and tongue. You whimpered into his mouth, struggling to breathe and to keep up with the onslaught.

He bent you backwards, your back curling around the sudden added weight of his arm. You tugged on his flight suit in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you as he attacked your mouth. His fingers were locked deeply into the roots of your hair behind your ear, angling your head just right so he could capture your lips in all the ways he wanted to. In all the ways he might never have the chance to do again.

Jake considered himself selfish. For most of his naval career, he had been selfish. But he never truly felt the weight of that feeling until he was trying to memorize these last moments with you. As if this was all he would ever get to have with you.

It was selfish to do this to you. To kiss you one last time.

Your body is warm under his touch. He tries to imprint the sensation.

Your kisses are firm. He tries to akin the taste.

Your grip on his suit is tight. He tries to remember the pain it creates.

Your whimpers and moans. He tries to imagine they’d be exactly what you’d sound like if he’d ever get the chance to be with you. Truly.

Or if they’d be enough to sustain his dreams.

He knows he needs to go. Needs to pull himself away from you before the next kiss, or the next touch is the one that convinces him to stay. So he tugs away first, and you chase his lips, whining at the loss of contact.

"Tell the bug she was right," it's a whisper against your lips. "And I'm sorry I disappointed her too."

Your bottom lip quivered as Jake finally wrenched himself away from you with a deep grunt. He climbed into his truck and started the engine, backing out of your driveway like a man possessed. As if one slight moment of hesitation or if he looked away from the task at hand and saw your face, he’d drag you back inside the house and lock the two of you away in your bedroom.

He would have if there were more time.

Your footsteps against the pavement were muffled in your ears as you followed his truck. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, even when you found yourself frozen at the end of your driveway, watching his red taillights fade into the fog.

And when you finally found the courage to move, absentmindedly walking back up your driveway, up your front steps to close the front door behind you, you fell against it. Your back pressed hard into the grooves and ridges as you collapsed to the floor. Your tears were falling freely, and the sobs racking your chest were each more devastating than the last. You heaved for each breath, trying to gather the strength to do anything but cry.

For Jake.

For Bradley.

For Sadie.

For Ridley.

...For yourself.

After working the heels of your hands into the corners of your eyes, you grasped for the dog tags, looking down at the worn-out pieces of metal in your palm. You could still make out his name and call sign imprinted on the surface, a finger tracing over the imprinted ridge.

The damn things were both a reminder he was still out there and could never return. A reminder he couldn’t promise more sunsets with you. A reminder there was a chance you'd never get to tell him you loved him, too.

You pressed your fingers to your lips, the other clutching his dog tags over your heart.

Come back to us, Jake.

Please.

Tag List:

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Part 19 - An Evening I Will Not Forget is being edited 👀

Wickett ;)

[theboywithburninghands]

So uh... in my last story I sorta implied Pomni was autistic. This is the story that confirms it. I wanted to explore more of her worldview and how she might find ways to pass the time. So this is what came out of it. It's a bit short, but it's personal and sweet and I think you'll like it. Lists T/W: profanity in some of the linked songs? I guess? I hope anyone who reads my stuff has heard the word fuck or shit before...

Pomni paced about her room. Pacing helped her think. She was here indefinitely, and while her boyfriend and girlfriend kept her from slipping too far into existential despair, boredom was a whole different animal. So, after racking her brain for several hours one evening after dinner, she finally settled on the one idea that would offer instant gratification.  

Lists. Lists of what? Well, any kind of list. Chronological lists, best to worst lists and vice-versa, top 100 lists… something about them scratched a hot red itch in her brain. Information could be so overwhelming when it was just flopped in front of you, especially in huge portions. If it was broken up piece by piece based on certain categories, it was far more digestible. You didn’t shove an entire pizza in your mouth, after all, you cut it into slices. Being able to break something down was not only comforting, but satisfying. Maybe that’s why she was so good with numbers…

So, Pomni went to Gangle. She had plenty of paper. Most of her room was covered with drawings of all sorts, done in crayon, colored pencil, watercolors, magic marker, even the odd charcoal. 

“Sure, I can lend you some paper…” Gangle had said with a timid but pleasantly surprised smile. “I didn’t know you liked drawing too, Pomni.” 

Pomni laughed a little. “Um, actually, I was going to make a journal. To keep up with all of the wild stuff that goes on around here, you know…?” 

“Oh, okay! That’s a good idea! I don’t know if I have any regular pencils, but I have some black colored ones. Would that be okay..?” 

Pomni had told her it was perfectly fine, and she went back to her room with ten big sheets of sketchbook paper, three black colored pencils and a red twist sharpener. She made a makeshift desk, the flat side of one of the oversized building blocks in her room and another building block for a chair. No real lumbar support, but eh. Her body was a bunch of pixels anyway. She set her things down tidily, placed one of the sheets in the middle of her desk, and began to write.

She tapped her pencil on her desk. Man, it felt good to have something to fiddle with while she thought… She decided to start with a profile of every other performer in the circus. She began by writing out a quick template, something she could use as a reference so every profile followed the same pattern. After some thinking, she came up with this: 

Name: Their name (duh)

Potential Real Name: Educated guesses on what their real name was before they came here

Likes: Hobbies, favorite foods and candies, favorite people 

Dislikes: Fears, least favorite foods and candies, anything else that bugs them 

Musical Taste: Music I’ve heard them listen to on Layla, or if I’ve asked them. 

*Hobby Related Stuff: See asterisk

Personality: What they’re like. What they’re like to me, others, etc.

*Variable, only if needed for major hobbies

Things like gender or age didn’t matter since she already knew all of those by heart. Personality would be the biggest category obviously… well, the only way to see if it satisfied her was to try it.

So she started with the first person that popped into her head.

Name: Jax 

Potential Real Name(s): Jackson/Jack, John/Jonathan/Johnny, Max/Maxwell, Braxton, First initial J, middle initial A, last initial X, Alexander/Alex, Xavier

Likes: Me, Ragatha, practical jokes, spaghetti and meatballs, lock picking, bowling, Nerds Rope

Dislikes: Corn, bad dreams, condescension, authority, anime, Ayn Rand, black licorice

Musical Taste: Radiohead, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, Foster the People, Soundgarden, Garbage (the artist), Linkin Park, Flyleaf, whoever wrote that song “Pepper,” Big Black, Bad Brains

Personality: Formerly a bitter, selfish assho-

Hm…

Pomni stopped to think. She had never tried actually writing down a swear word here before. They were never censored in her head, thankfully, but as soon as they left her mouth they were filtered out. 

She picked up her template sheet and wrote “asshole” in the bottom left corner. A few moments later, a black censor bar appeared over it. Pomni smirked ruefully and went back to Jax’s profile, scribbling out the beginnings of her swear word and continuing. 

Personality: Formerly a bitter, selfish jerk. In fact, in some ways, he still is. One of the first adventures I ever went on with him, he threw me out a window between two moving trucks. He kept putting things like tacks and whoopee cushions on my chair at dinner, hid bugs in my room, he was awful…  A few months later, he let me come into his room and talked to me about the law of entropy… He actually said he was sorry for the way he treated me after that. Then he got me my favorite food (honey-glazed garlic salmon), down to the way I like it cooked. I kissed him. He kissed me back. We kissed a lot. We didn’t really know what we were for a while, but it got made clear pretty quickly that we both loved each other.  

Now he’s… better. Not perfect… no one is perfect, but… he’s grown a lot. I don’t know what changed. He told me once he acted like such a bully so people would forget about this whole purgatory situation and be mad at him instead of at the world. I didn’t believe that then and I still don’t. I could ask him, but I don’t know how he’d react. I guess I’ll wait and see.

Anyway. He’s great, really. Underneath that sandpapery outer shell, he’s just as vulnerable and human as the rest of us. He’s funny, he’s charming, he’s handsome… and most importantly, he’s genuine. I love him. 

Pomni smiled at this completed profile and set it aside. She paused to sharpen her colored pencil, the lead on the end worn down to a nub. After it was sufficiently sharp, she grabbed a fresh sheet of sketchbook paper, cracking her knuckles and fixing her posture before getting back to work. 

Name: Ragatha

Potential Real Name: Agatha, Raquelle, Ann/Anna/Annie, Annabelle, Agnes, Anya, Christie

Likes: All of us here- me included, horses, video games, ballet, hugs, stuffed animals.

Dislikes: Centipedes, circus peanuts, ripping her stitches… she doesn’t have a lot of dislikes.

Musical Taste: Aretha Franklin, Roberta Flack, Smokey Robinson, Tom Petty, Pink Floyd, OutKast, Kendrick Lamar, Joan Jett, Carole King

Video Games She Likes (Heavily Abridged): Dark Souls Trilogy, Final Fantasy VII, Legend of Zelda, Goldeneye, Spyro the Dragon, Bloodborne, Uncharted 2, Assassin’s Creed 2, tons more…

Personality: When I first got here, I thought Ragatha was just being nice to me because I was new. But she just… never stopped being nice. She always had my back, always had something encouraging to say… I left her behind like a coward the first day I was here and she didn’t give up on me. I look up to her.

She’s not perfect. She can be a bit arrogant without meaning to, and she used to let Jax walk all over her, but… well, things are a lot different with Jax now. And I think she helped in some way with that… 

I love her just as much as I love Jax. I couldn’t imagine life without her sweet smile and her cute laugh and her hugs. Oh my god, her hugs! I HATE hugs, but somehow she makes hers incredible. She’s incredible.

Pomni re-read the profile and grinned. Oh, this felt so GOOD. Being able to put her thoughts down and in the form of a neatly organized set of lists. Scraps of order in this world of never ending chaos… She needed to write more.

She sharpened her colored pencil again and started work on Gangle’s profile, breezing straight through it and moving on to the next person. Zooble’s profile wasn’t as complete as the other three so far, since Pomni didn’t know as much about them. She would just have to add more to it the more she found out about Zooble. 

She was a good ways into Kinger’s profile, adding Luna moth to his list of favorite insects, when her eyelids sagged. Pomni grunted and rubbed her eyes. Time must have really gotten away from her. She should ask Caine for a clock. Well… maybe not. Seeing time slowly creep by in this prison would probably do more harm than good. Either way, she must have been writing for an hour or two, it made sense for her to be tired. She went on an adventure that day. 

She decided to take a break, give her brain a chance to wander. She crossed her arms on her desk and laid her head atop them. Sketchbook paper always had a pleasant, ethereal smell to it, like a shaft of sunlight illuminating a shelf of old yellowed scrolls in a castle’s study. She loved that smell. Pomni felt even more at ease. She found something to pass the time, and nobody could stop her. She could write as many lists as she wanted, about anything she wanted. She closed her eyes, the warm, private dark behind her lids the perfect place to imagine what she could write next. 

Within minutes, she was asleep. 

——

The faint yet insistent song of birds woke Pomni up. She blearily opened her eyes, lifting her head up off of her arms, the spots on them where her head rested warm and flushed. Pomni reached a gloved hand to her right eye and rubbed it, something slipping off of her shoulders and drifting politely to the floor. She turned around to find her comforter rumpled about her chair. It must have been draped over her while she slept at her desk. Did she do that..? She turned back to her desk.

 It took her eyes a moment to defog, but everything on her desk was right where she left it, Kinger’s profile stopping at Luna moth. She stretched, a yawn bubbling up and escaping her mouth. She picked her blanket up and made her bed, tempted to flop right back down onto it and get some more sleep. But she needed to organize her things first. 

She yawned into her palm and picked up the completed profiles, tapping the sheaf of papers on her improvised desk so they fell into order. She blinked and examined the top sheet. It was written in purple colored pencil, not her black one, and it definitely wasn’t her handwriting. She held it a bit closer.

Name: Pomni

Potential Real Name: No idea

Nicknames: Pompom, Poms, New Stuff, Newbie, Shorty, Clownface, Jingles

Likes: Jax and Ragatha, Salmon and rice, number puzzles, swimming, long walks, lemon drops, fudge ripple ice cream, cuddling

Dislikes: Hugs from strangers, snakes, spicy candies, cooking, whoopee cushions

Musical Taste: U2, Coldplay, Snow Patrol, Marina and The Diamonds, Regina Spektor, Keane, Ariana Grande, Corinne Bailey Rae, Duffy

Personality: Pomni shouldn’t have lasted long here. She’s a nervous wreck that’s prone to crying, depression, overstimulation and anxiety attacks. We were all a little worried she would abstract early. 

But she never did. She showed everyone that not only is she tougher than she looks, she’s smart as a whip and one of the most courageous people any of us have ever met. She’s a great friend to everyone, and never gave up on even the people here that seemed beyond help.

We all love you, Pomni. 

Pomni set the piece of paper down on her desk. She rubbed her eyes again, her glove coming away flecked with water. She got everything organized, sliding her paper and pencils under her bed. She took the sheet with purple handwriting, folded it neatly, and tucked it into her pillowcase. She rubbed her eyes again, sighed shakily, and opened the door to her room, ready to meet the sunrise. 

[axailslink]

Backseat memories

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

SongFic: Touch me by Kehlani

Summary: You and Riri have agreed to forget that night but you can't lie it's always on your mind it's always on hers too. So what happens when you're haunted by the thoughts of that night as the same song you had on then plays now.

Snippet from the fic: “

A/n: Alright I hc that Riri has tattoos especially the one that Dom has behind her ear.

Awkward and uncomfortable are the best two words to describe your current situation as you sit in the back seat of your best friend's car with what you said was a light buzz next to an also lightly buzzed Riri Williams. "Yo Y/n" you glance over at Riri "yeah..?" She smiles as she leans back "remember last Friday?" You groan out of embarrassment "I was intoxicated just like I am now" "a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts and if I recall that night you said "do whatever you want to me."

The memories play like a vcr tape you can rewind but due to fuzziness of your brain right now the thoughts are all over the place you can't remember who was on who was she licking you or the other way around? You're just remembering snippets. "I don't remember" you slouch into the seat as Riri smiles "I do. I remember we were both intoxicated like we are now and you just kept telling me how horny you were-" the embarrassment shoots through your face but Riri keeps talking "-you know you ramble when you're drunk you say whatever is on your mind with no shame. You said so much that night like "Riri right there" "oh God Ri don't stop" and my personal favorite "Are your windows tented?" Trying to keep a stoic facial expression doesn't last for long because the smile you crack at those last words brings a smile to Riri's face too "I was worried someone would see us... I remember... Some not a lot but I remember that I was covering my chest and looking around all panicked but you just kissed me and..." The memories come rushing back and with them comes that all too familiar feeling of wetness in-between your thighs one you wish would go away but it's hard not to get a little aroused at the thoughts. It's not something you can ignore with the ease because now that she's reminded you every time you blink you see her sprawled out before you every time you take a deep breath you think about how your breath hitched when her pretty manicured fingers were curled deep inside you and right now you're thinking about how tempting her stare is.

"And?" You stare at Ri who's sitting rather comfortably leaning against the door her legs in a nice man spread and her head against the window while those pretty brown eyes stay on you. Your attention is taken off of her momentarily when the sound of a familiar song plays from the radio you laugh while you realize Riri's confused to say the least because her brows draw together "that song...Touch me it played when I made you climax." Riri's the one who takes a moment to herself now reliving the moment too "oh you talking about when let me see" Riri hums to herself before scoring over to you "if I recall one of your hands was right here-" Riri grabs your left hand and gently places it at her throat and the other you off instincts slide to her clothed crotch "was it right here?" Riri just stares at you begging with those damned eyes of hers without having to say anything or make any gestures she's begging you to kiss her and you do. You lead with a gentle peck on her lips but she sits up on her elbows leaning up to deepen the kiss and you hum as she does so her tongue slipping inside of your mouth and fighting with yours. Without really noticing as if it's muscle memory your hand tightens around her throat cutting off that air wave just a bit not a lot but just a bit to make her dizzy to make her head spin make her surroundings seem more profound and that's what it does. Riri's so warm she's sitting up moving weakly as if you're sucking the life out of her with this kiss she rids herself of her shirt and loosens her pants. This is the moment your mind is dragged but to the reality that you're in the back of your friends car because you two are too drunk to drive home but obviously not drunk enough to be freaky horny fucks. Maybe you shouldn't do this. Here at least. You can almost scoff at those thoughts seeing Riri waiting on you to kiss her again those wanting eyes of hers give you all the confirmation you need as you kiss across her collar bone and loosen your grip on her neck so she doesn't pass out.

Your lips connect with hers again and she's a smiling mess but it's wiped gone as quick as it's found itself to her face when your hand centered at her crotch strategically takes a nice dip into her oversized jeans. As if to tease her you play with the edge of her underwear before allowing your hand to dip farther and cup her clothed pussy but like an alarm the music comes to an end and the conversations of friends beside the car has you running back to your side of the car and Riri doing the same. When the doors begin to open you scoot over to a poorly dressed Riri as everyone gets in pushing you into her you take a chance to smile at her before turning your attention to the conversations coming from both of your shared friends. "Leave it to Ri and Y/n to not be able to drive home."

A/n: obviously not edited like much because I have work and did this on the way there but I guess it was finally time to post this.

[siennaditbot]

Just finished watching all of Kim Possible for the first time ever (and in English) and man, it's such a great show.

I did watch it as a kid whenever it aired in Finnish. (I miss those fun school mornings...) The dub was ok as well, though I won't go back to that again. Did check for some clips and I'm glad I was able to watch it back then, but CCR and Will Friedle are so good. The others are too, ofc.

Anyway, back then it was all tainted by my own feelings, cuz I too had a guy childhood best friend I had feelings for. I saw him and myself in them and wanted the same yadda yadda yadda. Well, stuff happened and we haven't talked in at least a year. No big, pfft.

At least this time I got to enjoy this show without them stupid feelings affecting my experience lol. (Except with the So the Drama "a loop has been formed and I'm not in it" and all the Ron feelings about Kim finding someone else. Ugh, been there.)

Anyway, binge watching gave me a completely new experience. Not much shipping related stuff in the first 2 seasons, though there were some I giggled over and replayed to analyze. Mostly just best friends being best friends. No significant awkwardness.

Seasons 3 and 4 though? GAHH. So much ship teasing. Emotion Sickness is my absolute fav episode with Kim getting a device that controls emotions and makes her fall in love with Ron, and the guy's so confused but also so so lovestruck. (He didn't know abt the device at first btw)

I love all those soff little Ron moments, I keep replaying them over and over.

"It (them dating) could happen!"

"It's not that I haven't thought about it, I mean who hasn't?"

"What's not to like about Kim? She's smart and cute..."

"Something's different now. I mean there's something between us... Who am I kidding, that's not different. There's been something there for a long time. I think there's something there. Does she?"

Gahhh I love soff Ron so much.

Also yes I am the type to rewatch all the soft and kissy scenes over and over, there are others too since compilation videos exist!!

Anyway, just realized how most of their kisses are initiated by Kim, but my favourites? (Lol that feels cringe to say. Fav kisses? Pfft) Either both going in or initiated by Ron! (The Emotion Sickness one is great too, Ron's so love struck!!! Adorable.)

-> So the Drama dance scene (THEY'RE SO SOFF GO LOOK AT THEIR FACES), one where they run into each other's arms, and the final one where Ron places his hands on her face and goes in first.

I never knew how much I wanted to do a forehead touch->kiss or have someone hold my face like that.

Also S1 EP1 Ron voice superiority. So low and cute. That makes me swoon. Gahhhh. Rewatched the first few minutes and DANG I WISH HE KEPT THAT VOICE. I'm barely able to form a sentence rn. Gahh.

Also adore all the denial scenes, Kim's too. Girl's so jealous of Yori. "Awk-weird" to bring your best friend as a kinda date to an event? Oh yeah, feed me. I love the awkward pre-dating stage so much that I'm mad my Sonic fic doesn't have more of it lol.

All the tiny nods to stuff changing during season 3? Ron going "She's not my girlfriend!!" to Shego of all people, all of a sudden and without probing, just cuz she asked where Kim was! I love him.

Also, the theme song is banger. Also also, I set the communicator beep-beep-be-beep as my notif sound. Kinda confusing while watching, though, heh.

Was that all? I think so, maybe. I'm pretty sure no one will read this but hey, what is Tumblr for if not stuff like this. Yay for fictional men and couples!

As a final note, I don't think Ron's an absolute swoon worthy guy (barely feel compelled to draw him), I just appreciate guys being soft. Yes, go talk about your feelings and yes, stutter your way to victory!

Anyway, now I'm done.

I'mma throw some gifs under the cut though.

JUST LOOK AT THEM AND THEIR SOFF FACES AND EYES AAAAAAAAAAA

[random-meme-bot]

When did you initially come up with your oc's? Like... long has the concept of hexes on the shelves existed in your head? :0

Also, this may be a hard question but do you maybe have any voice headcanons for them? :o

Ok this is actually a hard question to answer, since the actual idea of a duo of character that can see ghost and it's ghost partner started way way back when I was a kid due to a pair of Spanish educational point & click adventure games called "Central de Fantasmas" (ghost central)

While the games are surprisingly high quality for the standars of educational games (the guy voice actor also does Fry in futurama as well as a lot other characters in other shows), all things considered they didn't do much with the ghost idea, so it led to my kid shelf imagining this stories about a duo of characters one human and one ghost, I'll be honest I don't remember anything about them.

A few years back, on 2022 I got really nostalgic for this games and decided to play them (took a while to make them run since these where designed for Windows XP tops) and the memories of me playing came back and through the next days of playing I started again tinkering with the idea of a human/ghost duo, it all clicked when YouTube recomended me the song "All my friends are ghost" by Dib Dooley (the original non music video is older but it's no longer on her channel)

That's the point where my mind gave form to Ely, this parody of a mystery children book protagonist, unlike those who pieced things together out of clues that then would lead them to traping the villan thanks to their quick thinking and resourcefulness, Ely was clumsy, almost always was in the wrong track with her assumptions, and only managed to catch the bad guy at the end and survive fighting against literal crime bosses because of her friend Dan, a grumpy ghost who despite what he says really cares about Ely and makes sure to protect her, all lead to this.

The first ever art of Ely & Dan.

Ely's dressing was roughly inspired by another parody of Kids mystery books, Jenny LeClue, while Dan's was inspired by Gibson from the Webtoon "Greetings from Grisley".

Despite the fact that Jenny doesn't have a hat while Gibson does, the hat actually was originally drawn as part of Elly's design to complement the detective look, then it was given to Dan as it's design looked to simple.

The idea kept going in my head and some questions started to form "Why can Elly see ghosts?" "Why does Dan want to become a writer so bad?" "How does Dan manage to pay the bills with him being a ghost and his book store not making any money?".

That's the point where I decided to actually make a story out of this and started to learn how to use adventure game studio, when I more or less had an understanding of how everything worked and had programed a way to switch between normal Ely & Dan Elly, I realized that I didn't have any sprites or artist abilities, after some days and a bunch of re doing I had the sprite versions that I posted over here.

I decided to park the project for now and develop some art skills moment in which I started to draw other ideas I had (check the art section in my pinned post for more on that).

The Ideas for Ely & Dan keep going in my head evolving until their current version and at that point I just couldn't take it I needed to share them, so I took your advice and decided that even if they weren't going to look the best they could at least they were going to look, and so Elly & Dan were posted.

So yeah, to answer it simply, the concept as we know it today, middle of 2023 more or less, the original concept more or less middle to late 2022, the Original idea 2010 or so...

Also about the second question, I don't, I've tried to come up with voices for them both in English & in Spanish but they always change.

[the-official-account]

Episode 19 liveblog take two

We made it happen!

@threeofheartscast

Because I do actually really want those notes on QC. Listening at 2.35 speed which sounds....awful. but useful! Semi from memory this may not be entirely in order

OMG HI!!!! I KNOW YOUR FROM THE TWITTERS!!!

QC elf, brown eyes and longhair In ponytail wears all black suit, gloves, book, robin-mask

Is this sir thimby person thinbleton? Sigil on card with future slanted font helmet with two crossed swords

Despite the fact that it's morally wrong I kind of ....yk maybe let him kidnap diamond a little bit? Some light kidnapping

I love how his first insibt when a fire starts is to stick to the CEILING. How are those lungs looking bestie

This music is GROOVY

IF ITS NOT GAY ITS GOT TO GO he's gonna love the agents.

For vellums kidnappings minimum 7 times depending on

-if random count extra,

-or if he wandered away and someone picked him up,

- didn't notice kidnapped,

- kidnappers forgot him and he just left,

- infodumped until the kidnappers got so annoyed they let him go

-about to walk into an open net while reading but manhole instead

The music is not as good as 2.35 speed

This entire scene was very cute and my original reaction included a lot of keysmashes. Vellum just went for it I appreciate that.

I feel like if there was a field agent hand book vellum would have at the very least edited it.

Xbala and spar having kissed us very soar behavior

Fic of them eating dinner after 2nd kiss before hotel

Vellum giving him a kiss. Draw spar half up in bed, with his face in vellums shoulder, vellum looking soft blushing (this shit is cute) muttering, petting his hair "mmmm breakfast is good, important part of the day....mmmm yup" -spar

Their argument here is the best

I FORGOT VELLUM SAID "YOURE VERY CUTE LIKE THIS" THATS A FUCKING DORABLE

I'm just gonna assume spar has a thing for suspenders

QC just Speedran becoming a coming of interest in a kidnapping (so fast the kidnapping hasn't happened yet)

HE HAS TELEKINSESIS what a little guy... He's so absurd in the best way i adore him. In my mind he is a Manlet I will die on this hill

Jack has a druid parent... Sanguinia. Stays with "g/Cladia" friend in...........city stoneloft

RADIO MOVIE NIGHTS ARE SO CUTE

I remember freaking out about greggins and Jack being qpps (just like me, fr!)

"Intense feelings and situations"

Grey just know it wasn't worth lying to vellum, he's too smart

There was a lot of freaking out about Max being the kid, but I landed on the theory that Grey both kept them seperate and wants vellums blood because Max is a werekid, and it wouldve been traumatic for both of them to raise them together but maybe vellum can help him find a cure. I can understand why there would be so many feelings messed up in all that

Vellum got SO cold in this question and I don't mean in a mean way but it's the...determination

Grey does have the best outlook on clovenheart & I think that's sus

Persuaded the FUCK outa him

Providince......don't thing I trust this. Grey's in his Gatsby era

"Fix other harms that needn't have happened"...........*squinting* return magic?

I WANT GREY TO COME BACK now that's she's less immediately evil) sus

Also I DID say I thought resurrecting vellum's parents could be a part of Grey's motivations!!!!, I did say that!

I really like joy

your sparkliness sounds very diamond

QC and the agents being at odds with eachother at this party sounds like the setup for SUCH a good time

HELL YEAH!!! Songs were groovy. Formatting still banging. I made a note herea out how juggling scenes like that is hard but Jordan did it really damn well. Kitt's so funny!!! I'm excited that they're here. QC is just a funny little guyyyyy he's just a little guyyyyy!!!

Note: hey future lushlet if you get up to wiki shit dont trust this I make hella typos

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

okay here’s my dwd review, buckle up 🫡

beginning to middle was pretty slow, middle to end was good!

the fluffy scenes between Alice and Jack were done really well, the chemistry between Harry and Flo felt so natural

HARRY LOOKED SO HANDSOME 😩 ON HIS PRETTY BOY SHIT FR!! The camera loves him, it makes me sick

Chris Pine played an excellent villain, he really embodies that egotistical manipulative psycho role perfectly

I felt like the plotline of Alice starting to realize something was wrong happened way too abruptly and inorganically. Like she just randomly started having flashbacks and doubts for no reason. I know Margaret kinda played a part in it, but Alice’s initial doubts didn’t really have much to do with her. I know the song was also a part of it, but its implied that she’s been harmlessly thinking about the tune for a while, and the idea that it just spontaneously triggers her despite the fact that she had it in her head for a long time is kinda unrealistic to me 🤷‍♀️ When things happen in a series of events/a domino effect, it really builds an exciting plot, and that’s what was missing from the beginning. I remember that in the original script, Alice finds a key while she’s doing Jack’s laundry, and her curiosity about its purpose is was leads her to find the portal and causes everything to unfold. Personally, I feel like they should have kept that, or at least kept the theme of it and have something like that set everything off.

Speaking of the tune, Harry did a really good job with it!! It was the perfect amount of creepy and it fit the entire film to a T

The entire dancing scene just seemed very unnecessary to me tbh! I heard a take about how it’s supposed to be a metaphor for how Frank puppeteers Jack and the entire community bc he’s literally seen as a god by them, which makes sense ofc, but the only reason I understand that analogy is because it was brought to my attention. Someone who is watching the movie and trying to draw their own conclusions from it probably wouldn’t have realized that’s what it was about (I’m using my sister as an example: she went with me and had absolutely no clue what the dancing was about and thought it was stupid 💀)

The whole thing with the plane crash was so ??? it’s one of those things that just felt like it was scribbled into the plot for the sake of haphazardly connecting some dots

The tension/face-off between Alice and Frank was 🤌 I loved the way he challenged her and she took it in stride and put up a good fight on her end. And Gemma’s entire ruthless monologue was done so well on her part

Flo’s acting is insane!! Like her talent never fails to leave me speechless, the way she’s so good with microexpressions and acting with her eyes…I adore her. The character shift she underwent when she had her epiphany and finally remembered her real life?? How she went from a proper housewife to cursing and yelling and fighting back?? 🫡

The whole scene after the dinner where Alice and Jack are discussing running away and then she gets taken by the Victory people was done really well!! Again, Flo’s acting in the car scene was so raw and realistic, 10/10. And Harry’s acting in this scene also really impressed me, I feel like he kept up with Flo nicely, which I honestly didn’t expect at all LMAO 💀 he did well with his expressions, his body language, and his dialogue, and I was like wow okay he has good potential

As for his acting across the entire film, I think he did good! He was going up against some legendary, experienced people (Flo, Chris, Gemma), so I expected it to be a very starch contrast in terms of talent to the point where he’d likely get overshadowed/stick out, but he managed to hold his own!! I remember when the Eternals scene came out, I was one of the people who felt that it looked very fake; he didn’t seem like an actual character, he just seemed like Harry in a superhero suit reciting some lines 💀 but in this movie, I think he actually embodied his role, and it felt like he was the character, and that he was playing who he was meant to play. Which is great, cause I was terrified that he’d flop and embarrass us 😭 a summary: he did good, still needs some work (which is expected), but he did his job and it was a nice acting debut on his part

I was left wanting some more depth to the characters. I wanted to know more about Jack’s background/identity in their real life, about Frank and what led him to create Victory, and how Jack discovered Victory and what he had to do in order to put Alice in it. She was a surgeon in a hospital and had tons of people depending on her, so how did he just manage to basically rip her from her career and her life without anyone coming to look for her?? What about her family, who would definitely try to come find her if they hadn’t heard from her in a while?? And his family?? Stuff like that. And also, I wanted to know much more about Jack and Alice’s marriage before the simulation (how they met, how their relationship developed, when they got married, how and when things started going wrong after he lost his job, why he was such a useless bum 💀 etc etc etc).

Ending was good, you could see Jack had some major screws lose by that point and Harry portrayed that well!! The chase scene was cool, but when she stopped and literally just stood there thinking about him I was like girl that man is DEAD!!!! GO GO GO!!!! and then she woke up and it’s implied she survives and gets to go back to her life 🫡 good for her

This movie being marketed as an ode to female pleasure completely missed the mark. The only “pleasurable” thing was the surface-level sex, which honestly felt unnecessary to me, if I’m being honest. The scenes just felt thrown in there, which makes me believe that the only reason they exist in the first place is merely to use them as a way to draw people in since it’s Harry having sex 🤷‍♀️ one would have been more than enough, and it’s the only one that made any type of sense to me: the one where Frank is watching them. Gross and fucked up, I KNOW, but it’s the one that actually aligns with themes in the film. Again, Frank is seen as this overlord figure in the community, and him looming over that entire exchange when Jack and Alice thought they had privacy kinda reminds me of that saying that goes, “God sees all.”, which is later supported further by how Frank informs Alice that he knows about her attempt to get Bunny on her side, implying that he’s “always watching.” That was my take on it, anyways, so I can see how that one was useful to the plot. The other scene was just there SJDNSNDNSN

That’s all I have to say, I think!! All in all, I give it a 7/10. I was entertained, but I was left wanting more from it, especially with how long it took for this movie to finally come out

[midchelle]

What songs do you think were written by John with Paul in mind at least? I know there’s so many of Paul’s which are arguably about John but because John’s life was cut short we only have his songs from the 70’s which seem pretty straightforward in being about Yoko and Jealous Guy seems to be one of those despite Paul thinking otherwise.

There are a few Dakota demos floating around that seem to be about Paul, or at least The Beatles, but I think in general John kept that stuff off his albums. I don't think it was a headspace he enjoyed being in. Paul probably didn't, either, but when he writes a song he enters a fugue state, comes out of it, and examines what he's made like an archaeologist studying the ruins of a prehistoric society: It's possible that this was made in response to An Emotion, but we're not sure. More information is required.

The Beatles A lot of the songs people think are about Paul assume that he's in love with him, and while I might agree with that to some extent, it's not a very good way of doing history. So here's the ones I think are probably about him without assuming that.

Day Tripper (1965) Expanding brain meme where the top tier is 'write a song about how he sucks and make him sing lead on it.' Makes you wish for a world where they stayed together during the seventies and John sang harmony on Too Many People.

Nowhere Man (1965) It's a very Paul kind of songwriting move to write a song about yourself and frame it as 'so there's this other guy I've heard of who's a total fuckup, not me though.' So is it about John? Is it about Paul? Actually, it's about both of them.

These are two different people. And one of them, believe it or not, can't see me at all.

And Your Bird Can Sing (1966) Process of elimination, it's probably about Paul. I know Marianne says it's about Mick, but I don't know if John cared about Mick like that. His bird couldn't even sing at that point. He was still going out with Jean Shrimpton's little sister. There's another theory that it's about Frank Sinatra, which I thought sounded kind of plausible, but it's probably about Paul.

Come Together (1969) You think you're just moseying along this beautiful, lazy river of agreeable nonsense, and then he hits you with 'got to be good looking 'cause he's so hard to see.' Wonder what that's about.

Post-Beatles

I Found Out (1970) It's a song about becoming disillusioned with things you once believed in. Paul is literally mentioned by name.

How Do you Sleep? (1971) Yeah we all know.

Jealous Guy (1971) Maybe it is a little bit about Paul, I don't know. There must be some reason why he thought that song was about him. It could just be cope. There's only one way for us to know for sure: FBI, release the seventies John Lennon wiretaps!

I Know (I Know) (1973) I've already mentioned the riff at the beginning, but let's talk about:

#9 Dream (1974) It's been ten years since The Beatles broke America, and he was referencing back to A Hard Day's Night with the promo for the album. He's clearly feeling a little nostalgic for early Beatlemania, before he was so cruelly forced to learn what money is and how shares work. If not directly about Paul, it is about their shared past. It's about playing music with someone you loved, so long ago. It literally came to him in a dream, the most Paul McCartney songwriting behaviour that there is. Look at this:

(Just Like) Starting Over (1980) Me when I write a song about rekindling a dormant relationship with someone I love while drawing on the artists that influenced me and my songwriting partner when we were young and also name-dropping both his hugely successful second band and one of his songs: it's not about Paul.

[i-came-i-saw-i-loved]

Veni Vidi Amavi Part 8

Pairing: Doom Guy x Reader

Reader type: Gender neutral

Song:

Warnings:

An: Ok. I know this chapter is short but it's gonna go into the next chapter centering around y/n next lol. Sorry for such a long wait as well. But I promise that I have some good stuff planned for the next few chapters.

I am so scared to speak the words. :Let me show you instead:

"-Tell me, frankly, have you ever loved?

-Let us not touch on old wounds not yet healed."

-Anton Chekhove, from the works of Anton Chekhov; "A Play,"

Flynn was lost in you. It bled into his every waking thought. The sound of your voice. The words carved from your lips a deadly song. He would do anything to hear you speak. It was in your scent. Sweet and tantalizing. It stole his very breath. His lungs yearning to be full of you.

You. You lit his body on fire. Pins and needles along his skin. Electrified his soul.

Flynn craved the taste of you. Your lips on his. To listen to the sweet sounds you made. To be able draw his fingers along your skin once more.

The wrench misses a bolt. Clattered to the floor. The sound barley echoing in the silent room.

Flynn B.J Taggart was a mess. All of it was your fault. Truly it was a problem that wasn't really a problem.

He wonders often if he can tell you. Speak those three simple words that leave him breathless. His tongue heavy in his mouth. It bites his lips. Not wanting to pass them.

If he spoke them it would be all to real. To tangible. To.

To vulnerable.

Flynn has been avoiding you. He knows this. Accepts it. He only reaches out to you during your healing. Futhered along faster due to the medical care within the fortress.

He picks the wrench up. Pushes his chair away from the armor he was repairing. It would be a long process leaving him away from earth for at least two weeks.

Two weeks here with you.

You. He doesn't think you realize that he knows that you are here. The soft pull of breath. The smell of a warm meal. The smooth shuffle of fabric and the clinking of dishes against the table.

The door closes behind you as you leave.

Alone. He was alone.

With a heavy breath he rises from the chair. Stretching stiff muscles and popping joints as he looks to see what you left him.

Spaghetti. A glass of water. The very same meal he gave to you the first day the two of you truly met.

The Slayer eats in silence. Plate held in one hand. Leaning against the table with one ankle crossed over the other.

Halfway through he pauses. Something ears at his chest. A swell and surge of emotions. Flynn finds himself missing you. The soft banter. Your laughter. The curl of your lips as you smile. Just. Talking while the two of you are.

He finds himself yearning for your company.

Suddenly he is no longer hungry.

Something burns him. Familiar and ancient. The company of one kept for so long it might as we be him.

Anger.

At him.

At you.

His emotions and feelings.

His needless and fleeting emotions.

He pauses. No. Not needless. He huffs in frustration an runs his knuckles against his jaw. Stubble scratches his hand.

It is but fair to you. Not fair at all the way he is treating you. Ignoring you. And for what? The fact he is not man enough to admit the way he feels? The fact that he cares so greatly about you he'd sooner allow himself to burn just to see you safe?

Flynn truly never cared for his life. Loss after loss has left him a bitter man. Cold and isolated from a world that fears him. A world he so desperately has tried to save.

You? Oh you were the type of person gods damned themselves for.

You brought out the parts of himself he has since thought lossed. That but of humanity that reminded him what he is fighting for.

Not of anger. Of pain. Of loss and ruin. Flynn has been fighting for the life he lossed. The one he refused to let go.

The human part.

The loving part.

The hallowed and revered.

The one thing demons could truly never be rid of.

Could you forgive him? He wondered. The way he ignored you. Fell back to his wordless self.

It didn't feel right. Pulling back on that part of himself. It was uncomfortable. Like wearing clothes two sizes to small.

Flynn closes his eyes. Thinks of you. Of the way you tried to pull him back.

You back was bared to him. A pillow held to your chest as you sat cross legged in front of him. His fingers skimmed over your skin. Placing a cream not so necessarily needed at this point. The skin pink and tender. Healing.

Just an excuse to touch you. Watching as your muscles pushed and pulled. Felt the shivers run down your back.

"I tried a new recipe. Vega said you made it often. I figured you might like it?" A pause. "There's a book, Of Fallen Stars, in your collection. I was wondering if you read it yet? It looked pretty new." Flynn said nothing.

Guilt burned him when he saw your shoulders fall.

Somehow it felt like one of his greatest failures yet.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Vega spoke.

"Y/n has fallen asleep. I suggest bringing them to their room. They are currently in the recreation room." Flynn sighed. Both cursed and thanked the A.I for giving him the excuse to go see you.

Flynn pushed himself off the table and began the short treck down the hall.

He paused in the doorway. Leaned against the threshold. A soft smile pulling at his lips. Warmth in his chest as he caught sight of you.

You were on the couch. Legs pulled towards your chest with crackers pressed to your cheek. The Slayer gave a quiet laugh. Stepped to you quietly so he did not wake you.

He stopped. Crouched down beside you. Flynn traced the features of your face. Rested his hand in your cheek.

He looked away. Down to the floor. A heavy breath. Then back to you.

"The things you do to me." He rumbles. "Do you know?" He shakes his head. You do not. The everlasting effected that you have on him. The one that makes him yearn for you so desperately. The one he has been ignoring for weeks now.

He wanted to give you a choice. To know if you truly wanted him. Despite the kiss. Despite the words you gave him. Ones that you would always care. That you were not afraid of him.

That you would stay.

Some part of him. Some cruel part of him gave way to fear. Told him that you didn't mean it. That everything he has now would be taken from him. That you would be taken from him.

Flynn gathers you in his arms. One beneath your knees and the other across your shoulders. It's nothing to him to lift you. One of the few times he was truly thankful for his strength. For what they did to him.

It would keep you safe.

He glanced down at you. Gave a low chuckle when he noticed you had stolen one of his shirts.

Your head shifted as you pressed your cheek into his chest. A soft mutter of words leave your lips. Flynn says nothing. Chalks it up to aimless sleep taking. Truly he thinks nothing of it until he sets you down onto your bed.

Your eyes open blearily. Still glossed with sleep. Almost said as you look to him.

"I'm sorry." Came the words. Broken on your tongue. Flynn shakes his head. Confused. Sorry?

"Rest. Y/n. There's nothing to be sorry for." You sigh. Rub at your eye.

"But you're mad at me." Flynn chokes. Uttered a curse.

"I'm not. Why. Why would I?" You sit up. Sleeve falling as you did so.

"Flynn you've been avoiding me. I. Did I do something wrong? Please I." He stops you then. 

"Y/n." It comes out in a breath of air. "I'm not. You've done nothing." You looked to him. Eyes wide.

"Then why? Flynn." He looks away. Those three words stick in his throat. Your hand on his jaw guides him back. "Please?" He falls into your hand. His own comes up to cover it. A kiss to your palm.

"It has been a long time. Since I have cared for someone. " He pulls your hand away. Keeps his hold. Using it to ground himself.

His stomach turns. His heart pitters in his chest.  His eyes find yours.

"The things you do to me. Oh the things you do to me."

[oreozfox]

Alone Together

Fandom: Sally Face

Pairing: SalAsh

Words: 866 (lol this is a v short drabble)

Notes: This was inspired by @beholdthemem 's tags on my drawing of the same name, which was in turn inspired by a scene in SU.

Warnings: None!

Ashley Campbell wasn’t a shy person. That was a given, from the time Sal had met her. She loved to meet new people, and was friendly to anyone who didn’t give her or her friends a hard time. And for those who did give them a hard time, Ash certainly wasn’t shy about giving them a piece of her mind. She also seemed to love physical contact, never being afraid to put an arm around or just straight up squeeze one of her friends. As much as it made Sal’s heart jump every time she leaned on him, or draped an arm around his shoulders, or gave him a hug, he loved that aspect of her personality very much.

Still, there were other parts of herself that Ash kept hidden away, under layers of grins and jokes and sarcastic remarks, never to be indulged in front of others. She never let them out beyond the comfort of solitude, no matter how happy those parts of herself made her. 

And yet, she let Sal see some of those things. Not all of them. Not yet. But she trusted him, at least a little bit, and that touched Sal more deeply than he’d ever be able to express. She trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t judge her.

Perhaps that was why she told Sal that she loved to dance.

They’d gotten on the subject of dancing somehow, while talking one evening under the treehouse, as Larry’s boombox softly played. Probably through discussion of music, which turned into them taking turns admiring how musically talented Larry was. Even his dancing was great!

“I know, it’s crazy.” Ash had agreed with a short laugh, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I could never do what he does.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love to dance but I’ve… never danced in front of anyone before.” Ash admitted, her voice lowering like it did anytime she shared one of those secret sides of herself. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can never bring myself to go to our school dances, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t stand the thought of everyone staring at me.”

“Well… nobody’s staring right now.” Sal told her, his voice questioning, offering. Normally he’d never, ever think to offer to dance with her. The thought of it would probably make his heart combust, but the thought of Ash limiting herself, keeping herself from doing something she really loved out of fear of being judged for it, broke Sal’s heart. There was no way he could let it be.

Ash turned to look at him, performing the hard task of searching his hidden face for signs he was joking. After she’d been silent long enough for it to be awkward, she snorted and gave his shoulder a light shove. “Yeah, nobody except for you, Sally Face.”

“Oh… yeah.” Sal murmured, embarrassed. He averted his gaze for a moment, wringing his hands in contemplation. “Uh, one sec.” He got up, moving towards the boombox and turning it up. Satisfied with the song choice, he stood and turned to face Ash, though he covered the eye holes of his mask with one hand as he held the other out invitingly. No one would stare at her; not even him. “So, what I was trying to say was… come dance with me.”

There was a pause, before Ash gave a short laugh, and Sal felt her take his hand. Frankly surprised that she’d accepted his offer, Sal removed his hand from his eyes to take her other hand and pull her to her feet. 

For a time, they just shuffled back and forth on the grass, keeping their hands interlocked. Once they settled into a rhythm, Sal reached way up to twirl her around, and she happily went with the motion.

Once she turned back to face him, she was smiling, and Sal found himself the shy one, as per usual. With a laugh he hurried away a short distance to dance on his own, hopefully encouraging her to do the same.

And it did. Ash began to dance, letting go of the fear of people staring. He witnessed the Ash he knew returning, vivid and moving and laughing and so… alive. He didn’t stare, he watched as he danced, completely captivated.

Their dances led them to run past each other a couple of times, but the second or third time that happened, Sal tripped over Ash’s foot and felt himself pitching backwards. That was, until Ash caught him halfway, wrapping her arms securely around his midsection. Sal would have thanked her, but realizing how close her face was to his made the words get caught in his throat. His face heated up, from his ears to his collar, as he gazed up at her with wide eyes.

But then, Ash laughed again, and Sal found himself put at ease. She pulled him closer still, resting her forehead against his, and Sal recognized that she was wordlessly thanking him. Sal felt there was no need to. After all, if this was a way to get Ash to express herself without fear, then how could Sal possibly do anything else?

[thewordworrier]

Live Forever In The Lights You Make

Word Count: 1,239 words. Notes: ~ Title is from “The Kids From Yesterday” by My Chemical Romance. ~ Female!OC ~ Established relationship ~ Yeah, Current!Era ~ Family!Fic. Oh man is this a lil indulgent. Hey, I follow what my muse wants, and she wanted soft fluffy family stuff! This is, to date, the second shortest thing I’ve ever written, I think? BUT HEY. The shortest, for those wondering, is Call Me Babe For The Weekend: Chapter Twenty Five And A Half - Caught Up In A Moment. (This is if you don’t include the Bonus Part from Born Bob Dylan, which I don’t.) Edit: Lil follow up - If We Can Find Where We Belong

----------- A concert in England, current era. Gerard was back on stage with his brothers - in rock as well as blood, having the time of his life. Everything just felt so… More. So right now. The other guys were playing their hearts out and the fans - oh god, the fans. So many of them were old fans - he knew, he asked every show and was overwhelmed by the roars he got back in response. They had always been there, carrying on quietly and now he believed that they would always be there. Many of them were new fans and that was just as overwhelming because they were singing just as well as the old fans and… They were new fans - the band was still drawing people in and it was amazing. That MyChem had been away for so long and people had still been finding, loving and following them. It was also so… Humbling to hear the crowd out-singing him for every single song. Even when they were songs they never used to play very much. Especially when they out-sung him during songs they’d never even played live before - like tracks from Conventional Weapons. These people had never stopped believing in My Chemical Romance; they had lived, they had carried on for the last however many years. They were the incredible ones, not them as a band. During a short break between tracks while he waited for the others to fiddle with their instruments, Gerard glanced to the side-stage area to see Shelly trying to wrangle their daughter and their son. She was trying to anchor them to her so they didn’t run onto the stage while he was performing, and she seemed to be doing a good job for the most part, at least with their son, who was cuddled against her leg. Their almost teenage daughter, on the other hand, was a little more stubborn (and she got that from both of them) and was currently pouting at her mother. He knew that no matter how well behaved their son was acting right now, he would definitely copy his sister if she managed to get herself loose from their mother. “Hang on a minute guys,” he spoke to the audience. “Just a second.” The rest of the band, and the audience, watched Gerard carefully put his mic back into the stand and take a few steps towards the side of the stage his brother and Frank were before rolling his sleeves up a bit. The rest of the band looked between their frontman and the side of the stage where he was looking, watching as he held his arms out. Shelly held onto their kids a bit tighter, raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. Gerard nodded. The blonde sighed and loosened her grip on her kids, making their daughter, Melody, look up at her as Zack looked up at his sister. Shelly smiled and nodded, giving them permission. At this secondary permission from their mother, both kids untangled themselves from her and hurried across the stage to hug their father. The other guys watched this with a smile, and Frank was reminded of when you finally let go of puppies - the way they would excitedly bound over to whoever they were being kept from. Gerard let out a soft “oof” as his daughter collided with him first, snuggling into his chest as his younger son grabbed onto his legs. Gerard looked up  from hugging his children to where his wife was standing, just offstage, watching. She had her hands clasped in front of her until he caught her eye. When he did that, she held her belly gently with one hand/arm while holding up a finger on her other hand, while keeping that hand low near her stomach so it was almost hidden. She tilted her head slightly to the side, silently asking a question. He knew exactly what she was asking - or at least he thought he did. He’d have to double check with her later. Shelly heard the coos and chorus of “awww!” from the audience at the same time she saw the smiles from the rest of the band. She watched Gerard kiss the top of Melody’s head as he squeezed Zack’s shoulder. She could tell by the way the young girl hid her face against Gerard’s shirt that she was giggling and, probably blushing. She knew her daughter would be reacting like that, even if she couldn’t hear it because of the new wave of affectionate noises from the audience. She giggled to herself as Gerard tried to get them to head back over to her after he’d given them a squeeze, only to have them cling onto him a little more. After another minute or so he managed to get them to start moving away from him but… They got distracted by two of their Uncles. Zack almost rugby tackled his “cool Uncle Mikey,” who ruffled the young boy’s hair, and Melody attached herself to “colourful Uncle Frank.” (Carefully of course, she knew Frank had been hurt and was still healing). She seemed to pout up at him when she realised he didn’t have many of his tattoos on display. Shelly laughed a little more and shook her head at her distractible children before making her own way on stage to try to round them up. Zack was easier to pry off of Mikey than Melody was to tear away from Frank, but Shelly managed. She adored the way the other three were with her children, and how much her children loved them in return. It made her heart swell - especially with the way the kids were waving at Ray, who was too far across the stage for them to have been distracted by him. She knew that the kids would give Ray a massive hug after the show to make up for it though. If they were still awake. She looked up and caught Gerard smiling at her, so she smiled back, Gerard’s smile got bigger and he dashed across the stage to embrace the three of them and to give her a quick kiss. The noises from the audience were a combination of “awws” and wolf whistles. Melody, in the middle of her parents, let out a soft giggle which Shelly echoed. Gerard grinned, let his family go and sauntered back to the mic. “My tolerant, patient, beautiful wife. She’s from here you know,“ he said proudly with the brightest smile. “And my wonderful children, ladies and gentlemen.” Shelly rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t stop smiling, especially when the attention made Melody hide against her. She hummed and quickly led the two off stage, where she settled with the young ones to watch the rest of the show. “Sorry for the slight interruption there guys,” Gerard pulled the mic out of the holder on the stand again. “Sometimes you’ve gotta grab that moment though, y’know?” “Kids don’t stay small forever,” Mikey spoke into Frank’s mic, having moved to stand next to him so Shelly could gather the children better. “They’re always the light of your life though,” Frank added. “No matter how old they get.” “Yeah, and you live on through your children,” Ray nodded from Gerard’s other side. “Your children and your music,” Gerard smiled at his surrounding family. “Your children, your music, your ever faithful fans who wait decades for you. Right, who wants another song?”