#between going off the cliff or finding a way to stay on i always do manage to stay on?

[wroteclassicaly]

so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe

I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)

Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?

Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.

You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…

Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.

You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.

And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.

He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.

“Welcome back, baby.”

His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.

“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.

“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.

He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.

“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.

You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.

“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”

You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.

“You want it like this tonight?”

You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”

“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.

He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.

“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.

You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.

His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.

He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”

That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.

“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.

“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.

He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.

You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”

His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.

“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.

Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”

He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking

You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.

“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”

“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.

He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.

“Honey? You alright?”

You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.

And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.

“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.

His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.

Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.

“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”

“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”

“But you’re tensing on me —“

“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”

His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.

Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.

“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.

“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.

And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.

// eat me paragraph //

[jpnriikicore]

Paul Aron as your best friend core

paring paul aron x reader, word count 994, genre fluff, warning roughy translated estonian, authors note sorry, for not releasing this faster i was writing other works for charles and lando <3 ( masterlist )

beach days.

you spend a lot of time on the beach in your free hours lounging around. go off swimming in the ocean. the sun is like a warm blanket wrapped around your body that came fresh out of the dryer. filming him on a cam-recorder when he backflips from a cliff. he somehow tricks you onto the cliff with him occasionally.

late night on the beaches or watching the sunset is the best part. your sides bumping into one another as you walk barefoot along the shoreline feeling the warm sand between your toes and chill seawater slash up onto your ankles. he swings your sandals back and forth from the straps of your sandals since he offered to carry them for you knowing that you hated carrying them yourself. admiring the sunset ahead of you or the moon above you.

boat days.

the sun shone on them basking in it's warmth. a good way to celebrate a podium win for paul. you hit the sea together for a weekend to be still and peaceful in just nothingness. away from his fast life to just have a moment of tranquility together. it’s makes moments like this more special. your legs spread laying onto top of his as your back leans against the comfortable plush white cushions of the boat. his hands soothing rubbing up and down your legs. his pink swimming trunks clad against his thighs after taking a dip into the water. his initials on a chain around your neck.

supporting him during races. through thick and thin and high and lows.

you're always spotted in a secluded corner on the floor of the prema truck. you’re seated together his jacket draped over to you keeping the chill off of you. if qualifying doesn’t go well that day you would sit in comfortable silence whilst reassuring his negative thoughts and feelings through physical touch. your head resting against his shoulder, your slight grazes over his hand, the feeling of you fiddling with his fingers, or the traces on the lines of his palms. just a reminder that everything will be okay. a feathery kiss on the top of his head with a whisper of praise makes him believe that he can do better tomorrow and make all his nerves disappear into thin air.

quality time ( exercise ver. )

you wake up tangled limbs in the sheets of your shared king-sized hotel room bed. the waves crashing on shore was heard from the cracked open balcony doors. seagulls flying around in the early morning blue sky. you vaguely remember him mentioning earlier that morning that he was going for a run before pressing a gentle kiss on your temple before leaving.

some mornings or evenings you would attend runs with him and karl. even staying with him when he works out in the gym maybe getting a mile or two in on the treadmill. he enjoys quality time with you. so, even if you're just sitting crisscrossed on a yoga mat watching him he enjoys it.

he’d convince you that he needs a spotter. even if the weights are a bit too heavy for you and you could help him only very little if you needed too. he still enjoys having your company and letting you feel included. he lightens the load of his weights when you finally do agree on spotting him.

"nii lõbus ei tohiks trennis olla. ( exercise shouldn't be this fun )."

traveling to tallinn and races with him when you can.

traveling around northern italy on a vespa, him driving you around as your arms are wrapped around his torso. towards the end of the night you ride towards a fancy friendship dinner date.

you settled in flimsy chairs on the balcony of your shared hotel room trying out different pastas and slices of pizza from restaurants attempting to find the best one in the country that you’re visiting.

while visiting his home in tallinn he would ensure to bundle you up in thick coats for the cold estonian weather. crunched snow underneath your boots a trail of footsteps in the white left behind you as you take a walk in the snowy weather around midnight.

his siblings.

during, your friendship with paul you’ve become close with his siblings, anna and ralf. anna is like a sister to you. ralf gives you lots of advice and shows embarrassing childhood pictures of paul. which for the record you find oh-so adorable and he finds incredibly embarrassing. you’ve grown expectably close to them due to tagging along on family vacations occasionally since him and his family seem typically fond of your presence. him and his extended family tend to have dinners when his finally back home leading to you practically being apart of his family since you sit in with so many of his family dinners and get to know his close and distant relatives.

"meil peres juba uus ralliäss kasvamas ( we already have a new rally ace growing up in our family )."

teaching you phrases in estonian.

after expressing that you wanted to learn how to speak his native language to speak to his family in the most comfortable way for them and show gratitude towards his parents for raising him the way that they did. he taught you simple phrases, to begin with just enough to get you around his home country without being completely lost.

dino and ollie.

after getting introduced to dino and ollie during the first race you attended with paul you’ve become quick friends with them since it was so easy to speak with them. your often spotted joking around with dino and ollie. just chilling on the floor of the prema truck goofing off with them even walking around the track with them. especially, dancing around with dino to whatever song that plays from his playlist on rainy qualifying days. you was there with the prema team supporting ollie’s debut in formula one.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[essentiallyleaf]

day 12. praise kink. with. choerry.

944 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x female reader, praise kink, pet names, public masturbation, oral sex, squirting, welcome to fluff central.

notes.

just trying something out. a permanent state of being at this point. exploratively, leaf.

It was the first time she tried ice skating, that day. A regular Saturday morning at the mall, wearing layers upon layers just to end up feeling way too hot. As regular as any day spent with Yerim can be. Her favorite part was when she was holding onto the barrier for dear life, but you managed to push her off of it a handful of times. Anytime you did, you helped her precarious balance by guiding her with your hands in hers, or on her waist. That was your favorite part.

“So, how was it? Did you like it?”

“I fell fourteen times, dude! I managed to fall as I was reaching for the cup of coffee you were giving me, and I was standing still! What do you think?” She said while laughing enthusiastically.

She didn’t like it at all, and she had the time of her life.

“I think you did great”

-

“How about you take me on a real date?”

“A what?”

“You know what they say about Paris…”

“That for each person there’s two rats?”

“That it’s the city of- wait, WHAT?”

She dragged you to a terrace bar in Montmartre, the sun was just setting, blues and oranges meeting on the roofs from the Sacré-Cœur down to the Louvre, giving the city a slightly wistful aura (it was hella expensive, but what isn’t, there? Plus, you’re okay splurging, if it’s for Yerim). It wasn’t sad, it was just cool, and dreamy. It was romantic. A postcard-worthy place to share your first kiss. It wasn’t for your first, but for your fourth that she asked a local to take a picture of it. It felt very awkward, both of you were laughing the whole time.

“Sorry if I taste like alcohol”

She usually doesn’t drink, so she felt really self-conscious about it. You found that endearing. The flavor had a deep cerise, leaning purple tint and resembled some kind of fruit, you couldn’t really pinpoint which.

“You taste like heaven”

-

You went to the lake together for a weekend trip in April. You convinced her to go on a hike on the first day (“You said there wouldn’t be any scary cliffs!” “Come on, it’s barely even a drop, you can do it! Just take my hand!” “You ugly liar!” “I am only one of those two, and you know which”; she always falls for stupid flirty lines like that), she was so tired at the end of it, so she decided that both of you would spend the next day relaxing. Relaxing ended up meaning hiding behind a large tree near the hotel and raising her cute white long flowery dress to her waist for you to finger her while your tongues met.

“You can stay silent while we do this, right?”

“Uhm…”

“Want a hand?”

“Yes, please…”

You put your other hand on her mouth and started sucking down her clavicle to her cleavage as you picked up the pace. She kept whimpering the whole time and even let a high pitched scream into your palm as she came. In the (very real) event that someone heard her, at least they had the decency to not show that.

“You did amazing, baby”

She really didn’t. Old couples kept looking sideways at the two of you for the rest of the day, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because you were a lesbian couple in the conservative countryside. But you know she needed to hear that.

-

She likes putting make-up on even when she’s staying home; she says she finds it fun, at some point both of you silently acknowledged that she also just wants to look good for you. And God, does she look beautiful with that exaggerated orange-pink blush on her cheeks. Or, actually, maybe it was just the wine that gave her face that amazing glow. You couldn’t really tell, you also had your fair share of glasses. You also don’t remember much of what happened before that sexy blush-tinted face found itself between your legs and was hit by a couple of little squirts as Yerim brought you to orgasm only using her tongue. What you do remember, is that all you wanted after that was to reciprocate the favor.

“Thank you, thank you so much, baby,” you panted out. “So good for me, that was so good”

“Hehe~”

The time of her life. This time though, with that slutty make-up, girl cum dripping from her features, it looked lewd.

“Now just lay back on the couch and stay still, honey, you don’t have to do anything else, okay?”

“Okayy~”

“Nice and cozy, just be my good girl and relax, yeah?”

She could only moan back as soon as you started eating her out. You couldn’t just give up on talking altogether though, so you compensated for the lack of oral stimulation with your fingers anytime you detached your lips from her core.

“Are you close, sunshine?”

Her adorable little whiny noises answered for her.

“Then I need you to do one thing for me, hm? Just one thing. I need you to let it go and cum for me, don’t restrain, sweetie���

When she cums, it’s a hurricane. Of spasms, screams, and sprays of transparent liquid coming your way.

“Yes, baby, so good. Let it all out, my baby cherry.” That’s what she tasted like. “My perfect baby cherry. Come here”

You surrounded her in a warm embrace and covered the two of you with her oversized zip-up hoodie. As you kissed her blushed cheek, Yerim looked like she was already asleep.

“You did awesome, cherry girl. You are so perfect”

-

footnotes.

sorry for bad dialogue. cheesily, leaf.

[ohbo-ohno]

Hi, I love your writing so so so so so much and it's like my goal in life to get as good as writing as you, but I was just wanting to ask if you would write a ghoap puppy play drabble but with a ftm reader, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but I actually can't find any puppy play stuff with a ftm reader in it and I would literally worship the ground you walk on if you did (if you don't feel comfortable doing this please don't)

yknow i dont take requests but you're actually the sweetest person alive (and i want to write puppy play rn) so sure!!! tysm for such kind words <3 (also your goal should be to get 10x better than me but i love you anyway)

1.8k of ghoap x ftm!reader with puppy play :) words used for reader's genitalia are cunt, hole, and cock (also reader is called pretty once)

It's a struggle not to beg, but you're a good boy. You stay still on your knees, paws resting on the wood below you, and you focus all of your attention on staying good.

Johnny's not good. Johnny's never a good boy, and usually that's a blessing for you, but right now it's a curse.

A whine slips from your lips, unintentional but loud. You lick your lips, swallow, and try to settle. Still, you've drawn Ghost's attention.

His hand stills in the air and he cocks an eyebrow. "Need somethin', pup?"

You lick your lips beneath the wire muzzle, shake your head. You don't need anything, you only want his hands on you. Simon's the only one who decides what you want.

He lands another smack against Johnny's bared ass, and the other pup wriggles on his lap, eyes screwed up - in pain or pleasure, you can't tell.

"Look'it him," Ghost rumbles, grabbing Johnny by the mohawk and forcing him to look at where you're knelt several feet away. "He's gotta wait for his turn because you can't remember how to be good. That seem fair?" He shakes Johnny's head for him, and you catch him smirk when Johnny whines. "You'd be barkin' and howlin' like I'd fuckin' shot you if your positions were reversed, but he's sitting there, nice and pretty."

You shift on your knees, padded hands tapping the floor in an effort to expel any of your energy. You pant with your mouth wide open, keep your eyes locked on Ghost, trying to ignore the clenching of your hole on nothing but air.

"Poor puppy," Ghost coos, voice edging into that part-affectionate part-condescending tone that makes you drip. "Having to watch me punish Johnny, when you should be getting all my attention. Is not fair, is it?"

That's a trick question, you know it. Anything Simon decides is fair, that's how this works, and you know intuitively that there's no right answer.

You whine, then yip, leaning forward a bit.

He laughs, letting go of Johnny's head and delivering another blow, this one making Johnny wail from behind his own muzzle.

"Little longer, pup," Ghost calls over Johnny's cries, every smack nearly as loud. "Just keep bein' good for me."

You can't help your noises as you watch Johnny's punishment, but you don't move. Your hips rock against the air, but you don't try and push your paws against your cock, don't try and get yourself off without permission.

You're good, you're a good boy. Ghost said so.

You try to keep your breathing even, try to keep yourself away from that cliff-edge of desperation that can get you in trouble, but it's almost impossible with the show you're watching

Johnny's face is red, streaked with tears as he takes his punishment. His thighs and ass are the same shade of red, and the cock hanging between Ghost's spread knees matches too. He's kept hard by the black cock ring at his base, but you know he doesn't need it. His feet kick and push at the couch cushions to no avail, his mitted hands punching and pushing at the arm of the couch.

He's more muted than you, his muzzle a thick leather instead of wire, but you can still hear the way he cries. Johnny's always been loud, and he's not shy about voicing his displeasure.

Eventually, Simon begins to slow his strokes, the sound of his slaps becoming quieter and the time between each one lengthening. Johnny's cries quiet to sniffles, and you shift forward even more, knowing what's coming.

You just barely manage to hold back a whine.

"See?" Ghost rumbles, stroking up and down Johnny's sweat-slick back. "You're alright, hush now. You bring it on yourself, Johnny. Wouldn't need a punishment if you could behave more than five minutes."

His eyes shift up to yours, and you can't bite back the whine this time. Ghost smiles at you as he shifts Johnny from his lap to the floor.

"Nothing like you, huh pup?" He raises a hand, motions you forward, and you're quick to crawl to him. You shove your head into his hand, melting into the scratches through your hair. Soap stays hunched on the floor next to you, head resting on Ghost's knee as he catches your breath.

"Yeah, you're my well-behaved puppy. Nothing like the mutt, hm?" You lean further into his hand, smiling when he chuckles and gives you the pets you desperately want. "My well trained pure-bred, hm? Maybe I should enter you in shows, let everyone see how perfect you are."

Johnny whines from next to you, digging his face further into Ghost's knee. Simon scoffs, but pets him too.

"Nah, couldn't do that with you, mutt. You'd embarrass me just for the punishment." His words are mean but Ghost's tone is soft, and Johnny's eyes nearly roll back in his head at the soft scratches to his scalp. "But you'd be jealous if he got all the attention, wouldn't you?" Ghost sighs, then uses his hands to push the both of you in so your muzzled cheeks are pressed together. "Guess I'll have to keep you all for myself."

Despite your own arousal, it's not too difficult for you to sit and wait while Ghost coaxes Johnny out of his punishment-headspace. It's nice to float in the softness, so rare with the three of you, and you're content with Ghost's hand on your head.

Eventually, he moves away.

"Alright, you want your treat, pup?"

You blink hazy eyes open, shifting to try and follow his hand with a whine. He smiles at you, and grabs you by the nape of the neck to guide you more fully between his legs.

"C'mon, don't you want a reward for bein' a good boy? I think Johnny deserves one too, for takin' his punishment so well."

Soap is quicker to perk up than you, quickly crawling so he's behind you. Realizing what's going on, you sit up more fully on your knees and brace your paws on Ghost's thighs, looking up at him and smiling.

"Pretty thing," he coos. "Don't worry, you'll get to come. Johnny." He snaps, the sound loud right next to your ear. "Go on. Mount him."

Johnny doesn't have the self-control to give you time to adjust, or to go slowly. One minute you're empty and aching, the next you're stuffed to the brim and stretched wide around Johnny's cock.

You both moan, and you feel the leather of his muzzle bump against your naked shoulder. You melt into the space between Ghost's thighs, eye-level with his cock tugged out of his pants as Johnny fucks you without giving you any time to adjust.

You whine loudly, eyes screwing shut at the near painful drag of his cock in and out of your hole. It's good to be filled, satisfying an ache that you've been fighting for what feels like hours, but your body can't help but fight the intrusion, pushing you further up on your knees and making you look up at Ghost for comfort.

He only smirks and pets a hand through your hair as Johnny snarls at your attempt to get away, paws landing on your shoulders and pushing you down into his ruthless thrusts. He snarls at your yelp, wide even behind the muzzle.

"You're alright," Ghost says, hand guiding your head to rest on his inner thighs. "We both know you like it rough, pup, be a good boy and let Johnny give you what you need."

He's right, Ghost is always right, and it doesn't take long for the sharp stretch to turn to pleasure, for the heavy drag of Johnny's cock in and out of you to leave you moaning instead of whining.

You pant with an open mouth, tongue lolling out to rest on your tongue as you try and breathe through the fucking, brain scrambled. Johnny's just as loud behind you, snarls and grunts and moans slipping through the leather as he bullies himself inside of you.

"There ya go, good boy," Ghost rumbles, giving you a solid pat. "Both of you, my two good boys. You're fuckin' him so good, Johnny, giving him such a good treat."

You work your hips against Johnny, pushing back in search for more pleasure, and whine high in your throat when it's still not enough.

"Y'need more, puppy?" Ghost asks, and you nod yes as vigorously as you can with your whole body being rocked in place.

"Here," he grunts as he shifts, moving one leg between your thighs and pressing his boot against your cock. You melt at the sensation, shoving yourself up and grinding against the strings. Your cries are almost deafening as Johnny's thrusts don't falter, the combination of stimulation heavenly.

"Go on, get yourself off. You've earned it."

You don't last long after that. You work your hips against his boot, the texture rough but perfect against your slick and swollen cock, sensitive hole still pounded mercilessly by Johnny. You feel insane with pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head and drool slipping endlessly down your chin as you let yourself drown in in.

You clench hard around Johnny when you finally come, cunt clenching him and milking him for all he's worth. He howls from behind his muzzle, pressing his face along your neck. You know if his mouth was free he'd be marking you, sucking bruises into your skin and covering you in his spit. You almost whine at the lack of it.

But you're far too drenched in your own euphoria to miss anything, really, your only focus on pushing yourself to higher heights of pleasure.

You float down, eventually, but you're immediately thrown into overstimulation as Johnny's pace continues exactly as it was. He continues to pound into your mercilessly, the sound of your slick shameful in the quiet room.

You paw in a panic at Ghost's thighs, looking up at him with wide eyes as you press closer to try and get away from the cock rearranging your insides. He only smirks and presses his boot up, the pressure against your cock so soon after an orgasm absolute torture.

"Let Johnny have his treat now," he scolds lightly, giving you a slight tap to your cheek that has you trying to nuzzle yourself into the crease between his thighs and hip. "Maybe he'll manage to get off, even with that pretty ring on his cock. Let's let him try, hm?"

You look up at him with vision blurred by tears, whining as you balance the sharp edge of pleasure-pain from Johnny's minstrations.

Ghost only smirks, petting you again. "Hang tight, pup. Be a good boy for me, let our other boy have his fun."

You whine, and bury your face next to his cock, trying to breathe evenly as Johnny only drives himself more and more insane inside your cunt.

[merrycrisis-if]

So I just want to say that I'm definitely not a suspicious person sending you a suspicious link - suspicious people wouldn't say that outright, right? I just tried to send an ask, hit the character limit, then tried to send a message, and uh, hit the character limit again. Haha. Anyway, here's what Qiu has done to me: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hcQ_-WQ635cSrgWtEWX1gz7Xv9GbzopT_A5MpvRZA64/edit?usp=sharing

THIS MESSAGE IS THE BOMB!!! I love that you created a google doc just to gush about / psychoanalyse Qiu because of Tumblr asks's character limit, that's so hilarious and amazing!!

OK, now to reply to the message :D

[Re: Qiu] ...They're NOT EVEN AN ADULT YET. It's easy to say "just give up on the only structure you've known all your life because it's toxic" but reality is not always kind; even ignoring any kind of emotional support (which we unfortunately don't really get to see one way or another. Maybe Qiu would have been better off just running off and taking a leap of faith and relying on MC but it's not wrong to feel that the unknown is far more terrifying than the known and there was no way for them to know that choosing MC would have been better. The love of her parents - in whatever form, whether or not it's actually love, is what Qiu has known for most of their life - is a constant as long as they meet expectations.

Exactly, this!! Like, we first meet Qiu when they're still very much finding themselves / figuring out what they want in life. It's definitely a 'coming-of-age' story for them — as much as it is for MC. So their relationship with MC takes place at a point where, like you mentioned, they are still a teen(!) and their parents' expectations and (conditional) love is all that they know. It's never easy to distinguish between what one's own desires, dreams etc. are, and what's simply fed to us by society, by the people we trust/care about (in Qiu's case, it's their parents).

So I think one of the greatest joys of writing Qiu (and their relationship with MC) is acknowledging the imperfection, the growth, and their initial failure to 'do right' by each other back in high school (and the potential to re-visit that and make different choices the second time around).

There are probably bits of “it would be entirely way too selfish of me to ask MC to give up on their opportunity and stay”, among other things, but I’d like to think that feelings of “I don’t deserve to ask this of MC” are also there... Asking or hoping for Qiu to ask them to stay - I get it, I really do, but there’s also a part of me that feels like god DAMN if that isn’t fair, putting the choice on Qiu... Just as Qiu could have stood up for MC, could have shouted their love for MC from the rooftops, could have asked MC to stay; MC could have CHOSEN to stay, could have CHOSEN to prioritize their relationship with Qiu. Could have written emails, snail mail, video calls, flew back for visits, could have given long distance a shot. Maybe it was just the wrong time, wrong place. Maybe back then, neither of them could have made those choices, said those things.

And you bring this up beautifully here, where I think I was really interested in portraying MC's hurt (from MC's perspective) regarding the way Qiu never fought for them, even when they were so ready to throw it all away for Qiu — but then also slowly unpeel the layers of Qiu's perspective as well, i.e. that MC expected grand gestures from Qiu, but truth is, reality was tugging them in opposite directions, and perhaps Qiu did fail to jump off a cliff the way MC wanted them to, but they both failed to try to figure out a more mundane, less grandiose way of keeping in touch, staying in each other's lives etc.

MC back then had been seeing things in a very 'black and white', 'you do or you die' kind of way (as most 'first love' stories go), but I think now that they've had years to mature / grow, there's space for both MC and Qiu to appreciate the nuances of what had happened between them, how things fell apart etc. and acknowledge that in some ways, they were each incapable of doing the things they needed from each other, but nobody was truly at fault.

Again, thanks for the lovely message <3

[thetriumphantpanda]

The Way You Miss Me | Joel Miller (Chapter Two)

It's been a week since you and Joel threw yourselves over the cliff of the unknown together. It's been tense and you're worried that things have changed for the worst. That is, until you receive a message.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings | Smut, dry humping, rough sex, protected PIV sex, hair pulling, alcohol consumption - nothing else that I can think of but let me know if I've missed anything.

Word Count | 4.5K

Authors note | Thank you for the love on chapter one - it's spurred me to write part two which I hope you enjoy as much as me! If you love it, I'd love to hear from you - send me ask, keeping reblogging and liking.

Your phone buzzed on your bedside table to signal a new text message. Setting your book down on the bed with the corner folded to keep your place, you picked up your phone and your heart skipped a beat. 

J. Miller 

Sarah at a sleepover tonight. Can you sneak over?

It had been a week since you had been pinned underneath him for the first time and whilst you’d looked after Sarah each weekday there was nothing in his behavior that suggested anything had happened between the two of you. When he came into the house each evening, he’d merely told you your dad was waiting outside for you and bounded up the stairs to check on Sarah. Sensing he was thinking that he’d made an almighty mistake in stripping you naked and sitting you on his face until you saw stars you always made sure that you were gone by the time he came back down the stairs. You didn’t even wait for him to come back down to give you your money. 

To say the message was a surprise was the understatement of the century. Butterflies bloomed in your lower tummy at the thought that he wanted to see you. How were you going to play this? It was a Saturday afternoon, still unbearably hot, but it gave you options. You could tell your dad you had a date in the city perhaps? No. That wouldn’t allow you to stay out all hours of the evening, he’d expect you back at 10pm sharp. If you were going to see Joel you didn’t want to have to rush things this time. 

You went through a range of options before settling on your final plan. You padded down the stairs to find your father sitting in his chair reading the paper. 

“Hey dad,” You called from the bottom step, “Emma just text to ask if I wanted to go out tonight, would that be okay?” 

He looked up from the paper and smiled, “Of course, will you be staying with her tonight?” 

“I think so,” You replied, “It’s easier considering her apartment is right in town, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” 

“Alright sweetheart,” He nodded, moving his attention back to the newspaper, “Just make sure you drink water with your alcohol, it’s hot and you’ll make yourself sick otherwise.” 

“I will, you know Emma is the sensible friend.” 

Your father chuckled, “I have to head into town in a little while to sort some paneling for next week, do you want me to drop you down?” 

You thought for a moment. It would add to the story for sure, but the town center was in the opposite direction to Joel’s house, “No that’s okay, you head off whenever, it’ll take me a while to get ready.” 

He folded the paper and threw it onto the coffee table in front, “Alright, I’ll head off now – if I’m not back before you leave then have a good night but be safe and text me to let me know you’re okay.”  “I will dad.” You reply, walking over to give him a hug before he picked up his truck keys and left. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in before bounding straight back up the stairs. Deciding to leave replying to Joel for a little while longer, you scrolled through your phone and dialled Emma’s number. 

“What’s cookin’, beautiful lady?” Her chipper southern drawl answered. 

Emma had been your best friend since high school. You’d met on day one and bonded over a love of British history and music. Despite being the same age, she was almost like the mother you’d never had. Your mum had passed away when you’d just turned 4, not old enough to understand the consequences of being left with just your dad, but old enough to realise something was missing. Emma was an old soul, she liked to drink tea and be in bed by 11pm, even on a weekend. She instinctively put her arm in front of you to stop you crossing the road when she deemed it unsafe. She’d sat next to your dad at your college graduation, crying tears of pride just as your mother would have. 

“I have something to admit to you.” Was your response as you flicked the phone to speaker and set it on the bedside table. 

“Oh hell yeah, this is fun,” Came Emma’s response, “Let me guess, you’re a hardcore crystal meth user?” 

A laugh ripped from your throat, “Emma I wouldn’t even know where to start buying it, so no.” 

“Damn, you’re hanging around with the wrong people,” You could hear her shuffling about at the other end of the phone, “Put me out of my misery then, what have you done?” 

You took a deep breath, “You know Joel Miller?” You asked, “The guy that pays me to babysit his daughter?”  “Honey, of course I do,” Emma snorted, “You never shut up about him and his big arms and his dark hair and his beautiful eyes.” 

“I slept with him.” You blurted out. 

There was silence on the end of the phone. This was going to go one of two ways. She was going to kill your ass for being so reckless and fucking your dad’s best friend, or she was about to nominate you for a Nobel Prize. 

“Fucking get it girl,” A sigh of relief came at her response, you could hear her throwing ice into a cup at the other end of the phone, “Was his dick as good looking like the rest of him?” 

“Jesus Em,” You chuckle, “Yes, okay, everything looked great and was in proportion.” 

“I applaud you, ethics aside, this is going to be great for you, a summer of being ridden by your neighborhood’s most eligible bachelor.” 

“I appreciate it Em but I have a favour to ask?” 

“He’s called you over and you’ve used me as the excuse to your dad?” God damn she was good. 

“I appreciate you very much Emma, just cover my ass if he calls you.” 

“Will do!” She called back, “Now go and get ready and leave me to my margarita in peace.” 

You said goodbye and ended the call, immediately noticing a second text message notification. 

J. Miller 

You’re not ignoring me are you baby? 

Never. Just cooking up a story for my dad. You have me all night. I’ll be with you at 6. 

You hopped straight in the shower to divulge your body of the thin sheen of sweat that had been gathering on your skin throughout the day before fighting through your closet for something to wear. You had no idea why it mattered to you what you wore, Joel had seen you at your worst, turning up to his door in sweatpants and oversized jumpers more times that you’d care to admit, but things were different now. You didn’t want him to view you as the young babysitter, you want to be a woman for him. 

Settling on a light-yellow sundress pulled over the cream lace underwear, you threw a change of clothes in your rucksack for the morning and slipped on your sandals before practically running out of the door. 

***

Joel had been pacing around his kitchen for ten minutes when a knock at his door roused him from his thoughts. He had no idea what he was doing. Once you’d left him to his thoughts after last time he had spiraled. If your dad ever found out what he was doing with you he’d be dead, no questions asked. He was 36 after all and should have known know better than to give in to his temptations. 

However, every single night he’d led in bed and replayed the images of you in his head. You were spread out underneath him, trying so hard to keep quiet as he pushed inside of you. When he allowed his hand to take hold of his cock when he was alone in his bed at night he thought about how tight you’d been around him and how you’d fluttered around his length as you’d cum for him. He had it bad. So bad that as soon as Sarah had asked if she could sleepover at her friends place he had agreed. No arguments. She’d raised an eyebrow at him showing him that she knew something was going on – she certainly didn’t know what, but she’d always needed to plead her case to do anything outside of the home.  

He yanked open the front door and you were a picture in sunshine yellow. The dress you wore barely made it mid-thigh and although he couldn’t see what you had underneath, the bra was certainly doing wonders for your chest as it was heaving in front of him as you caught your breath. 

“Come in.” Was all he could manage to say as he moved to the side of the door to let you pass. 

He watched intently as you dropped your backpack in its usual place next to the kitchen island. 

“You look lovely.” He offered as he watched you walk to the back door, looking out at the garden. 

“Thank you.” Was all you said, not even bothering to look at him. 

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked, “I don’t have much food in but if you want we can order in?” 

You finally turned to look at him, framed by the late afternoon sun pouring in through the window. He couldn’t help but think that you looked positively ethereal. 

“A drink sounds good,” Your reply was blunt, that’s what he deserved for basically ignoring you he supposed, “I’m going to sit outside.” 

Joel went to reply but before he could you were gone, settling yourself not in the chair you’d chosen before, but on one edge of the bench. That was something at least. He quickly made you up a tequila pineapple, just like before grabbing himself a cold beer. Too early for whiskey. 

“You mind if I sit?” He asked after he’d handed your drink over, motioning to the other end of the bench. 

“It’s your house Joel, you can sit wherever you’d like.” 

You hadn’t meant to be so cold but as you’d walked to his place you couldn’t help feeling like a fool. You’d dropped everything for a grown man who had all but ignored you all week. No, if he wanted to see you he was going to have to explain himself. You’d expected to have to coax it out of him but thankfully the cold shoulder wasn’t something Joel was enjoying. 

“I’m sorry darlin’ for keeping my distance,” He offered, placing a hand softly on your thigh to test the waters, “I just couldn’t trust myself to make smart decisions after last time.” 

You could feel your heart soften a little at his words, “So you don’t regret it?” 

“Not a single second,” He replied almost immediately, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you – when I’m alone at night it’s always you my mind comes back to.” 

“You couldn’t even touch me though?” You challenged, “A hug? Or a brush of the fingers?” 

“Darlin’ trust me I wanted to, every time I look at you it’s like I want to consume you, but I know if I did your dad would get real suspicious about what was takin’ so long whilst I had your thighs wrapped around my head again.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat for a moment at his words as you were processing that fact that Joel Miller was struggling with his need for you as much as you were for him. You took a sip of your drink as you thought over your next words. 

“And tonight?” You began, “Am I just some kind of booty call whenever Sarah leaves?”  “Baby…” Joel trailed off, taking a long glug of his own drink, “I need you to know that’s not just what I want but this,” He said motioning between the two of you, “Whatever this is, it’s complicated.” 

“I need you to know that this won’t be just sex to me Joel,” You ran a hand over your face in frustration, “I’ve never been good at that, separating sex from feelings, so whatever this might be, I want to do it right.” 

He took his hand from your thigh and took hold of your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, “I don’t want you to be just sex to me either darlin’ but we’ve got to keep this a secret whilst we figure out what the hell we’re gonna do about telling everyone.” 

You nodded in understanding, “I’m not going to shout it from the rooftops, and I don’t want to rush this, so it stays between us,” You reassured him, “But I swear if you pull whatever bullshit that was from this week again, I’m out.” 

“I promise to try harder darlin’, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” 

You smiled at that. How could a 36 year old man make you feel like a teenager again. It was like he was trying to traverse his first ever relationship in high school. You gave him a reassuring squeeze to his bicep to let him know you got the message. 

“So, I’m starving, how about pizza?” 

***

Several hours later, with more pizza than you should have consumed in your stomach, you’d laid yourself on Joel’s couch whilst he prepared another drink for you. You’d sat in this space more times than you’d cared to think about, never did you imagine that all those evenings sat with Sarah would conclude with you being sat in her dad’s lap making out like two horny teenagers. 

A few moments later Joel was back with two drinks and you’d resumed your earlier position, you stretched out long with couch with your legs in Joel’s lap whilst he ran his hands over as much skin as he could reach. 

“Joel?” 

“Hmmm?” He replied, shifting his head to look at you. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wasted no time in following the instruction you’d given him, instead of settling himself between your thighs like he had done earlier in the night, he effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, settling your hips above his own before cupping your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips. 

Once the both of you had fallen into a rhythm of kissing each other, taking it in turns to switch from featherlight kisses to the lips to, nibbles of bottom lips and chaste kisses to each other’s neck’s, you felt Joel’s hands move from your face to the thin straps of your sundress. Without even realizing it, he’d softly slipped the straps from your shoulders, causing the material to fall away from the sheer lace bra you'd thrown on when getting ready. 

"Darlin', this all for me?" Joel's husky voice spoke as his hands came up to cup your tits. 

"Unless anyone else is here then yes, it's all for you Joel." 

He looked up at your face and his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. The feeling of his hands cupping you through the sheer material had your nipples hard in seconds and you were silently begging him to take the material from your body and put his mouth on you. 

Thankfully he did just that, pulling the straps down just like he had with your dress before pulling the cups down, exposing your tits to the air of the room and to his almost immediate assault. He bent his head slightly and captured one nipple in his mouth, softly rolling his tongue over the exposed bud, whilst his fingers worked on the other, rolling it between thumb and finger. 

How on earth a man could make your pussy flood with warmth from the tiniest of ministrations against your tits was beyond you at this point, but your hands ran to clasp together at the nape of his neck, pulling yourself flush against the rest of his body as a small moan fell from your lips. 

Joel pulled his mouth from his place at your chest, looking up at you with your head tossed back, “I want you to be as loud as you want tonight baby, you got me?” He asked you before taking your other nipple in his mouth to give it the attention he’d been paying to the other just moments before. 

Taking advantage of your position, you dipped your hips a little lower until you felt your clothed core settle on Joel’s growing bulge at the front of his jeans. You felt him tense slightly at the friction and felt a little smirk appear on your lips. He didn’t let up with his mouth, swapping every few minutes to the other nipple, which spurred you on. Using your hands around his neck as an anchor, you started grinding your hips against his. Even through layers of material the friction it created was delicious. A low guttural moan left your lips as Joel pulled his mouth from you, opting instead to place his wide hands on the curve of your ass to lead the movement of your hips against him. 

You bent down and captured his lips in yours, moving your hands to rest on his broad shoulders as he continued to slowly move your hips so your pussy was dragging against the harsh denim underneath you, the lace of your panties doing nothing to protect you. 

“You like that, huh?” He asked, “You think you can make yourself cum like this? Grinding that pretty pussy over my jeans?” 

There was something about the filth from Joel’s mouth that lit a fire within you which made your grind into him even harder. You could feel the beginnings of the tightening in your abdomen – how, when men who touched you with their hands and mouths but couldn’t get you aacross the cliff edge, could Joel do this with just a flick of his hips through his clothes. 

“Hmmm… Joel.. I’m.. Oh god, I think…”  “That’s it baby, grind a little harder.” He encouraged with his lips right at your ear, “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

Within seconds you were mewling as you were grinding yourself through your first orgasm, hands squeezing Joel’s shoulders so hard you were sure your fingers would leave little bruises in the morning. 

“Such a good girl for me,” He breathed as he stilled your hips, “Look at you.” 

You looked down and could see a patch of denim at his crotch that was a deeper blue than the rest, your wetness was seeping through your panties. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath and you could tell if you attempted to stand your legs would fail you. 

“Don’t stop now,” Joel purred into your ear, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he stood up with your legs wrapped around his waist, “That was just number one.” 

***

Orgasm number two had come shortly after by Joel’s mouth. He had you pinned to his bed, a wide hand splayed across your tummy as your writhed beneath him whilst his tongue flicked mercilessly across your clit. 

Number three had been drawn screaming from your throat as you leaned back against his naked chest with his erection pressing into the small of your back. Two of your own fingers planted deep within your soaking pussy as his fingers rubbed circles across your clit. 

Four and five came quickly one after the other, the first as you sat on his face like you had done the first time, pressing yourself so hard onto his tongue you were sure you were going to suffocate him. The second caught the both of you by surprise as Joel lightly teased your clit with his thumb as you leant back to catch your breath. You were so sensitive it took less than a minute for him to pull his name from your lips as you collapsed into a heap next to him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Was all you could breathe out, which earned a chuckle from your side. 

“Afraid not darlin’, it’s just me.” 

A half-hearted swat to his chest was earned for that – before you could move your hand from his skin, it was taken into his own and he was pressing soft kisses to the palm of your hand as he shifted about next to you. 

“Baby you’ve gotta let me fuck you,” He growled into your ear, moving your hand down to his boxers that neither of you had taken the time to remove just year, “See how hard you’ve made me? Cumming for me like a good girl.” 

You looked up at him through your eyelashes as he shifted his weight to look at you, “I’m not stopping you.” You tried as seductively as possible to open your legs for him. 

“Not like this,” He mumbled, “Turn over.” 

He pushed lightly at your hip to turn you over onto your front before hauling himself up behind you, “Lift your hips a little bit.” You did as you were told and watched as he placed a pillow under your hips to lift you up a little. 

You craned your neck to look at him behind you as he was stripping himself of the final barrier between the two of you. It was still as impressive as you’d remembered from before, thick and hard and just waiting to take you right to the edge again. As Joel was putting a condom on you opened your legs as wide as you could, displaying yourself for him before you gave him a little wiggle. 

“Minx.” Was all he said before he gave a swat to your ass, causing a gasp and a chuckle from you. 

You held your breath as Joel moved closer, “You ready baby?” all you could do was nod in answer as you felt the head of his cock at your pussy. 

He was slow as he pushed himself inside you, just as he had been the first time, giving you ample time to catch your breath and enjoy the delightful feeling of being stretched open like you never had been before. You heard a throaty growl leave his lips as he bottomed out inside of you, stopping to get himself used to the feeling of your pussy clenching around him again. 

“Fuckin’ Christ baby, you feel incredible.” 

“Joel, please fucking move.” You had no time for his compliments right now, he’d pulled five orgasms from you and all you needed right now was to feel his cock moving inside of you. 

“Alright m’lady, whatever you want.”  He pulled almost all the way out of you before thrusting back into you hard and you were lost. You could feel his heavy hands gripping your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts which somehow had him reaching even deeper inside you. The angle that the pillow had placed your hips at had Joel going as deep as humanely possible into you, ripping a moan from your lips every time he thrust into you. 

“Holy fuck Joel, that’s so fucking good.”  “Hmmm I know baby, you sound so fucking good when you moan for me.” 

He set a fast pace for you both but you knew he was holding something back, the feeling of his cock inside you was dizzying but you needed more. 

“Joel,” You cried out as you shifted your hips, “Joel I need more.”  “More?” He asked, coming to a complete stop inside you, “What more could you possibly need from me right now?” 

“Harder,” You begged, “Or faster, God I don’t know Joel, I just need more.” 

You could hear him chuckle behind you – you didn’t need to look back to know that he’d be beaming with pride right now at being the cause of your frustration even whilst he was balls deep inside you. 

You felt a rough hand make its way up your spine before it tangled in the loose hair falling around your back. He pulled hard causing your position to shift, your back now arched into a position you didn’t think was even physically possible. When he began moving again you could see stars. He was perfectly hitting a spot within you that made your vision blurry. It was rough and it was loud but God wasn’t it perfect. 

“Is this what you needed baby?” He asked, his voice giving away that he too was close to the edge, “Like it when I get a bit rough with you?” 

“Oh god…” You choked out, “I fucking love it Joel, don’t stop.” 

Not knowing it was even possible, you felt him shift gear and he was fucking into you harder and faster than ever before, you were so close to your sixth orgasm you could almost taste it and you knew Joel could tell. 

“You gonna give me one more Darlin’?” He growled, not letting up the pace, “Come on, I can feel you getting tight around me, let go.” 

The mix of his dangerous Southern drawl, the angle of his hips and the way he was sliding in and out of you with such ease were enough to tip you over the edge. Joel let go of your hair and, with a hand placed on the back of your neck instead he pushed you into the mattress as he pounded into your pussy from behind, seeking his own high. 

It took less than a minute for him to seat himself deep inside you as he came, growling your name into your ear, peppering your skin with kisses. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but once he slipped from inside you and you were free to turn yourself onto your back you had never felt so empty. 

You watched as Joel disposed of the condom in the bin next to the bed before leaving his room and coming back moments later with a warm washcloth that he handed to you. You took it gratefully and cleaned yourself up as best you could. You knew you needed to get up and use the bathroom but right now, as Joel was peeling back the sheets and motioning for you to get under the covers with him, the cloth would have to do. 

Despite both of you feeling like you were on fire, you wrapped yourself up in Joel’s strong embrace. You rested your head on his chest and used your hands to trace tiny patterns across the skin of his shoulder. 

“I can’t remember the last time a girl stayed long enough to cuddle with me.” He mused, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“I can’t remember the last time a man made me cum six times in one night.” Was your response. 

The rise and fall of his chest told you he was silently chuckling to himself, “Six?” He asked, “You think you’re getting away with just six tonight?” 

You shifted enough to look into his eyes thinking you might find that he was joking but the look on his face suggested otherwise. 

“I’m not having you here all night and not making the most of it.” He whispered into your ear, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, despite the temperature in the room.

“Give me a chance to catch my breath Miller and you’re on.” 

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[clouds-by-me]

𝓡𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Request; All I can think of is when Scaramouch becomes wanderer and remembers who he was and how he would react. I can just imagine him being absolutely horrified and better yet what would have happened to the winged reader?

Yan!Genshin x winged! Reader

Character; Wanderer, Xiao

Gene; Angst, Yandere

Au; Winged!reader, also implied black reader

Synopsis; being A winged creature of such purity, you'd expected to gain someones interest, but not like this, not in this horrific way.

An: I hope that you don't mind that I added some more ppl...

@owl-witch-prompts

Wanderer

•Scaramouche was obsessed with reaching God hood, it was all he really talked about. After so much time he just left...

•Not that you were complaining

•He went months without coming back, and in that time, you managed to escape. And once again you were free, as free as a bird

•Paranoia still was engraved in your bones, but you managed, living in a large tree, isolated from the world and you didn't even mind

•That was until you saw him

•And things got worse when he saw you

•Behind his eyes you could see something change, and that look so you deeply stained in your mind that instantly you ran. Your right wing was far from Healed, so that was all you could do

•And he chased you, calling out to you. Yelling something like an apology

•He tired convincing you that he'd change

•From that day he stayed close to you much to your oppose

•There wasn't a time when he wasn't around

•He stayed around, protecting you, buying things for you. He did his best you respect your boundaries, but he couldn't help it! he had to stay near you at all times! what if you got hurt? he has to be there to keep you safe

•soon you had no choice but to accept him, it's not like he would've given you that option anyway

•there were times where some of your friends just suddenly went missing however

•he claimed to have nothing to do with it but you know that hes hiding something

•he has helped you a lot, and with the help of Nahida, he healed your wing

•him being so nice to you was a hard concept to grasp but once you got used to it. that's just what it became

•it would still be best to stay cautious though

"i'm glad that you've grown to trust me, i don't know what i would've done if you didn't"

Xiao

•this man has been around for a long time, and he has met a lot of people, so when he saw you for the first time, he was surprised to find that he felt drawn to you

•whatever it was that you made him feel, he wanted more, he needed more

•you didn't meet him until after him knowing you for close to a year when you were attacked by a group of treasure hoarders

•and like the knight in shining amour he is, he came to your rescue

•he had known you for close to a year by then, but it was your first-time meeting or even acknowledging his existence

•it was like cupid had hit him with an arrow all over again. sure, he had seen you, but touching you? that was something else

•it didn't take long for the start of your relationship to start

•he'd protect you, while you provided him with your company

•when it came to you, there wasn't one foe he wouldn't kill, and to him everyone was a foe

•things between you both were great, and hiding things from you wasn't hard

•he had already kept his existence from you for about a year, so it wasn't hard to keep anything else from you

•the two of you became close, so close that you even trusted him to touch your wings, and once that happened his feeling for you could only grow

•whenever you gave him attention of any kind, he loved it

•he was so happy when you went crying to him about your friend dying after falling off one of the many cliffs of Liyue

•he helped you take care of your wings, and got you everything that you needed to keep them healthy

"i'm always going to provide for you and love you, no matter what"

[oniku-niku]

Katsuki was pacing back and forth in his living room after he read the last text you sent.

What kind of news do you mean? Good news? Bad news? Fuck, were you planning to tell him you’re staying there permanently? His hands have been clammy ever since and he thought to ask you but he decided against it in case you were busy finalizing anything before leaving. 

“Katsuki, settle down. (Y/n)’s gonna get here when they get here, Honey.” his mom’s voice called out from where she was sitting on the couch. He gave a small huff before plopping down right next to her. Though she seemed calm on the outside, Katsuki could see the slight bouncing of her leg as she was reading the newspaper. 

Mitsuki Bakugou wasn’t stupid, she could tell something happened between the two of you. Her son has been calmer in the past two years than he ever has in his life. She’s noticed how he always casts a glance at his phone, a sparkle erupting from his eyes when he reads a message from you. She wanted to ask about it but chose not to because watching her son fumble while typing was kind of endearing. 

Though she didn’t talk to Katsuki about it, she did gossip with Masaru when the two were in their shared bed for the night. 

“Our Katsuki has grown up a lot, hasn’t he?” she sighed, glancing over at her husband. He let out a chuckle, removing his glasses and resting it on the bedside table.

“He sure has, I know you’ve been enjoying seeing him all flustered, but imagine what he’s going to be like when (Y/n) does come back.” and the two started giggling with each other.

“Oh lord, I hope we get a video of it. (Y/n)’s done a number on him, haven’t they.” She agreed.

“Dude what does (Y/n) mean by ‘news’?? Do they not know how rude it is to just leave someone on a cliff hanger like that?! And then we have to wait a whole day to find out the answer?! This is a sick game.” Denki whined from the other couch across from them. Him and the rest of the group were in his house just waiting around. 

“You know what can get your mind off of it?” Mitsuki laughed, looking up from the papers in her hand. Denki looked at her with hope dancing his eyes. “You kids can go do your jobs as heroes.” she stated and the way Denki’s face dropped at her answer made her stand up with a chuckle.

“Honestly, their flight is 10 hours. Instead of waiting in my house and torturing yourselves, go and find some criminals and stop eating my food!” she exclaimed before making her way to the kitchen.

“That’s cold Mrs. Katsuki’s Mom! But I mean if the city really needs me or whatever I guess I’ll go.” Denki playfully rolled his eyes before getting off the sofa. The rest of them followed suit and before they could make their way towards the door, “Yeah yeah, here are some snacks for the road! Be safe!” they all took the cookies from her hands and waved thanks before leaving. 

It was an excruciating 10 hours, not only for Katsuki with the waiting around while he got bored fighting criminals, but also for you, who’s ass was feeling numb due to sitting for so long. The little ‘ding dong’ from the pilot’s intercom rang.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we have at last reached our destination here at Air Japan, we now ask that you put on your seat belts and give us a few moments to get everyone landed safely.” and with that, the sound of everyone’s seat belts clicked into place as the plane began its descent. 

“Welcome to Tokyo International Airport, our flight attendants will help with carry-ons, all luggage can be found at baggage claim on the lower floor, thank you for flying with Air Japan.” and everyone was bumbling to get their stuff to get off the plane.

It wasn’t until you were walking through the exit tunnel that your heart started palpitating, you could feel it in your palms as you were gripping your bag. The deep breath that filled your lungs did little to help with the nervousness in your steps as you got closer to the entrance. 

What am I so worried about? I saw these guys on Katsuki’s birthday when they all flew over. Why am I nervous to see them all again now?

You made your way down a level to get the large suitcase that arrived separately before looking around for your large group of friends. You thought you should call one of them but then a flash of blond hair caught your eye. 

Through the other side of the glass wall was Katsuki, just Katsuki, staring back at you with a faint smile resting on his face. You took another deep breath before making your way towards him, but you barely got three steps outside before he threw himself onto you. His arms wrapped itself around you, pulling you into his embrace. His nose took in your scent as if it was the one thing keeping him from falling. 

“You’re here, finally.” he grumbled into your hair and that was all it took for you to wrap your arms around him too. The two of you stood there for a good minute, arms not wanting to let the other go. He reluctantly did when the sound of a honking taxi ruined the moment. 

“It’s good to be back..” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and the next inhale you took in was filled with his intoxicating cologne. 

“Come on, you must be tired, let’s get you back home.” he brought you to his car and when the passenger’s door was open, there was a gift bag resting on the seat. You made eye contact with him as he went around to the driver’s side.

“It was supposed to be the gift for you when you left. I told you I’d keep it until you came back.” he smirked before you both settled into the car. He motioned for you to take the gift out and you took no time reaching in. 

The soft fabric made contact with your fingertips before you pulled it out. In your hands rested a vermilion knitted scarf. On both ends of it were embroidered the explosion flares that matched the ones on the back of his hero mask. You couldn’t help the grin that came to your face when you saw it.

“You did this?” and you knew the answer before that question left your mouth.

“Yeah…it took a bit longer than I’d like to admit. I wanted you to have it since Canada tends to be colder than here. It killed me when I couldn’t give it to you before you left.” he explained before starting the car. 

“Well, lucky I came back when it’s starting to get cold again huh?” The smile you sent him eased his worries as the car started taking off. 

The two of you were silent for a few minutes, only the soft music playing was heard.

“So- where is everyone else? From your messages I thought everyone was coming?” you broke the silence.

“Oh, they figured you’d be exhausted from the new time adjustment so they’ll let you rest until tomorrow,” he answered.

“By the way, Izuku thought since I was the one picking you up, that you should stay with us? We have your guest bedroom all set up if you’re okay with it..” he added, his eyes not wanting to meet yours in case you rejected the offer.

“That sounds good. I really need to sleep in a familiar place tonight.” you didn’t know how tired you were until a yawn escaped you, and the soft music wasn’t helping at keeping you awake. Before you knew it, you were passed out in Katsuki’s car to the feeling of his steady driving and the passing road signs. 

When he parked, Katsuki knew he had to be gentle, let you get as much rest as you could. He went over to the passenger’s side and hooked his arms under you to carry you out. His dad opened the front door for him (he heard the car pull in and the driver’s doors shutting) and went to help bring your stuff inside. 

Katsuki brought you to the guest room and settled you down on the bed. Your unconscious self immediately wiggled further into the soft pillows as soon as he draped the blankets over you. Masaru left your bags on the floor at the end of the bed for you and the two left you alone to rest for the night.

When the next morning came around, you were disturbed from your sleep by the sound of loud yelling from the other side of the guest door.

“-Come on! It’s 1 in the afternoon! They’ve been asleep for 14 hours straight! I wanna see them!” that was Denki’s voice.

“Okay, just for that, you’ll be the last to see them. Leave my house.” Katsuki’s voice rang out. Denki laughed at his stern voice knowing he wasn’t serious. You mustered up the energy to get up, taking a moment to stretch, and going to open the door.

“(Y/N)!” Denki yelled before glomping you into a hug. You hugged back before meeting eyes with the rest of the group. Izuku was the next one to be hugged.

“I’m glad you got back alright.” Shinsou grinned before going in for his hug. One by one, everyone else got a hug too and they all let you freshen up before you met them all downstairs, meeting Mitsuki and Masaru’s hugs on the way. 

“So! What’s the big news that you wanted to tell us? I’ve been on the edge all day.” Denki asks as soon as you sit down in between Shoto and Katsuki on the big couch.

“Well, I got promoted at my firm! They want me to supervise the junior designers!” you exclaimed, but the grin on your face slowly disappeared when their faces didn’t show any excitement as you’d hoped. Bakugou could feel his heart steeling up to hear you say what he dreaded.

“Does that mean…you’ll be there permanently?” Shoto asked, the frown on his face only making his puppy eyes more heartbreaking.

“That’s the best part! They’re transferring me to their newest branch right here in Japan! I’m staying here!” and that was when they roared to life with cheers. Bakugou felt his heart settle down with joy.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT! I WAS ABOUT TO CRY!” Izuku yelled from his seat. And for the next several hours, you all spent the time talking to each other about everything that’s happened in the past two years. Katsuki couldn’t get the smile off his face, not that he wanted to in the first place.

When the evening came, you all separated ways, making sure to make plans to hang out soon to make up for lost time. 

“Want to take a walk with me?” Katsuki asked, his hand holding the scarf he made you. You nodded before going to put on your shoes. He gently wrapped the scarf around your neck before you two went to take in the November air. 

The sound of wind whistling through the autumn leaves accompanied you two for a few minutes. 

“Hey, do you mind if I read you something? I don’t think there’s a better time than now…” he trailed off, fumbling with something from his pocket. You nodded, watching him pull out a small envelope with a card inside, and you swore you could hear him taking deep breaths to calm himself. 

“Racking my brain for many days and many nights, For the right words to describe the way you make me feel. Like the fireplace warmth on a cold winter night, Like the first bite of food after starving for a meal,

Like discovering a new bloom On a long lasting plant. If I don’t say it now,  I might lose the chance.

(Y/n), I’m in love with you, I’ll say it a million times over if I must, I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes, For me to gain back your trust.” 

His voice wavered as he read over what he wrote for you two years ago. And the two of you stopped walking as he finished. His stomach was on fire and it shows through the heavy blush on his face (He blames the cold weather).

“Did you write that?” you asked, not looking over to him, your breathing was stilled, not wanting to believe your ears.

“I did. I meant to give it to you with the scarf.” he cast his eyes down at his shoes. He prayed to anything that was holy that you still had some feelings for him, that he still had a chance to make it right, that he hadn’t lost you.

“Do you mean it?” your voice was so quiet, he almost missed the question. 

“Every word.” was his immediate answer. 

He was done being stupid. He was done denying his feelings for you. He was done with his massive ego that almost cost your friendship.

“(Y/n), if you don’t feel the same way for me anymore, I completely understand. I royally messed up and I hurt you. But if some part of you still feels the same way, please give me the chance to show you how much you mean to me.” he stumbled and walked to stand in front of you. His movement had you looking up and making contact with his red eyes that had determination written all over. 

“I just, don’t want to risk getting hurt again if this is a spur of the moment thing.” you explained to him and he was quick to shake his head.

“No, I promise you I’d sooner allow Shinsou to use his quirk on me than to ever hurt you again. It’s not a spur of the moment, I’ve waited two years for you and I’ll wait even more if you need time.” His eyes were begging you to believe him, and you’d never seen him like this before.

It tugged at your heartstrings, it nipped at your fingertips, it engulfed you whole; how much you loved him.

“One date.” you held up a finger to him to indicate your point. And his eyes lit up. His heartbeat raced.

“One date. Okay, okay good, great. Thank you!” he nodded and before he knew it, he planted a kiss on your cheek when he came in for a hug. It took the both of you by surprise, but it wasn’t unwelcome, indicated by the blushes on your cheeks. 

Although he didn’t have a day in mind yet, Katsuki was planning to make you feel special whenever the day may be, and all the days after that. Yes, Shoto has called him whipped at least 6 times already, but he didn’t care (because, yes, he is.) There’s not a chance in hell he’s messing this up, he’s completely and hopelessly enamored of you, it’s about time he expressed it don’t you think?

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[volostogekiss]

the tides of the sea (one-shot)

Warnings: Some mild self-deprecation. SAD, depressed reader. Mention of scars.

GN!reader, soft!Volo, emotional turmoil (you know it), praise from Volo though heh. This is based on that one credits festival screenshot.

Summary: The night after you’d closed the rift, you’d only wanted to be alone. You stray out of the village, where the festival roars your name, to find solace upon the cliffs at Prelude Beach—the place where everything had begun, and everything had ended. You don’t expect anyone else to come looking for you, but he still does.

Perhaps you don’t want to remain alone, if he’s the one who finds you.

           If you’d really thought about it, you shouldn’t be here right now.

           The Hero of Hisui, out alone, on the night meant for celebration.

           Celebration of your deeds in capturing both Dialga and Palkia, sealing the dangerous space-time rift, and allowing Hisui to be safe once more for its people.

           But are you one of its people?

           Do they consider you not to be a stranger any longer?

           For what you’ve done for them?

           You stare out at the ocean.

           …It’s not like you had had a choice, anyway.

           Stay exiled, or close the rift?

           Stay exiled, or take responsibility for what hadn’t even been your fault?

           You tuck your knees against your chest.

           You should be happy that you’ve been allowed to return to the village, and that no one looks at you as if you’re nothing more than a wretched anomaly, threatening their sheltered lives.

           You should be happy that people are celebrating what you’d done for them—that you’d risked your life for their safety.

           That should make you happy, right?

           But still, there is an awful emptiness in your heart.

           You think you hear the cheers of the villagers, off in the distance, along with the steady beat of drums. Perhaps Irida and Melli have welcomed a few others to joyfully dance with them on stage.

           Though you…

           You can’t be happy in this moment.

           How could I?

           The twilight waves, speckled with starlight, beat against the stones below the cliffs, and wearily, you nudge your chin between your hands.

           It’s as if doing all this for the villagers—sealing the rift and restoring magnificent blue skies to them—has exonerated you of a crime you’d never even committed.

           That after everything, now you are some savior, worthy of praise, and your wrongs have been forgiven.

           How fickle human nature is.

           But you’d never done anything wrong in the first place, nothing at all.

           You shake your head, and a sudden, scorching heat coils in your stomach.

           No, the one wrong thing you’d done was existing here in Hisui. You should’ve never been brought to the past.

           Your hands curl into fists upon your knees, and that angry flame flickers upward into your chest, twisting and gnawing at your heart.

           How was it my fault? Why me? Arceus, tell me why it had to be me!

           The waves tumble and crash against the shore, and it’s such a mundane thing that sets you off—

           screaming, pressing your hands to your eyes, and collapsing in on yourself as if you can’t take it any longer.

           You can’t.

           You can’t go home.

           After everything, you can’t go home, and somehow, you’re supposed to feel as if things are normal once again.

           You are not one of Hisui’s people.

           Nothing will ever be normal for you, as it is for them.

           “I can’t…” you sob, tears starting to well at the corners of your eyes.

           I can’t.

           You don’t even know what you mean anymore, but you don’t want any of it.

           You’re alone.

           You’re alone now, and you always will be, in a way that no one else could understand.

           After all, none of them had come to Hisui as you had. Even Ingo, despite his periodic, inexplicable moments of yearning for somewhere he couldn’t remember as home, had found a place in Hisui. The Pearl Clan needed him; Lady Sneasler had chosen him.

           But none of the people had chosen you.

           He hadn’t known the same blighted responsibility as you. You’d been their last hope—someone they never would’ve chosen if their desperate circumstances hadn’t forced you into your position.

           You wish you could look past it.

           Part of you wants to learn to love Hisui as its people do, wants to sincerely enjoy every friendship you’d built so far.

           You should give yourself that, shouldn’t you?

           To be happy?

           But even as you try to, even as you want to, you can’t. Not entirely.

           Even if you can hardly remember anything of your past now, from where you’d really come from, you can’t find it in yourself to just… forget it all.

           What little there is.

           Perhaps you won’t have a choice in that either, however, for all your memories have nearly faded into nothing but a dim haze of longing and lost hope.

           Wiping your damp eyes on your sleeves, you peer down at the silky gray fabric. You follow the swirling gold and white patterns, vibrant under the moonlight, and then you pinch at them, as if convincing yourself that they’re real.

           Yes, very much so.

           Anthe had sewn the ornate haori draped across your shoulders.

           “For the Hero of Hisui.”

           Your lips quiver. Subconsciously, your hands move to your hair.

           Arezu had placed an intricately woven headband, decorated with a myriad of rich dyes and a carefully lacquered pin, upon your head.

           “For the Hero of Hisui!”

           You stroke a finger against the wooden pin, then fold your arms over your knees again.

           But I’m alone, still.

           …!

           That sudden, uncontrollable heat—that furious, resentful fire—abruptly consumes your thoughts, and then you’re screaming, frustrated, tired, and alone—

           “I can’t do this anymore!”

           You shout the words out at the sea, half expecting it to mercifully answer you with any wisdom its boundless age may provide, and half expecting it to only splash and break on the rocks, lamentably unable to assuage you.

           Neither, it seems, is what you receive.

           “What can you no longer do?”

           You whirl around faster than you’d thought yourself capable, the haori flitting around you with the sharpness of your movement. Your heart jumps up into your throat. You’d really thought you’d be quite secluded here, and you’re not in the mood to deal with anyone else but—

           there’s a familiar figure waiting just a few paces behind you.

           Your heart settles into place once more, but its frantic beating doesn’t slow. He always puts you in such a state, causing a stammer to pluck at your words and an occasional heat to fan over your cheeks.

           You aren’t sure if you want him to stay, or to go.

           “Volo, I…” Splaying a hand across your chest, you turn around fully to face him. “I didn’t expect you.”

           You never could expect his capricious arrivals, after all. Volo has an uncanny ability to appear wherever you are, and you’ve never particularly questioned it; it’s become a bit of a routine thing to you. It’s no surprise that you hadn’t heard him either then, not with your fractured state of mind, hardly capable of helping you piece together a coherent response.

           “I apologize if I startled you,” he replies quietly, sensing that perhaps you aren’t feeling quite yourself at the moment, “but I had wondered where you had disappeared to.”

           “I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

           Volo tenses at your words, but you don’t notice. You’ve turned around again, barely even having taken note of his lack of festival attire—that he’s still wearing his uniform as if he’d just returned from an assignment himself.

           “No, no.” Hearing the apology in your voice, he hurries to correct you. “It’s just I hadn’t a moment to speak with you all night.”

           He steps toward you, but bites back his true thought: No one else would worry about you like I would.

           Somberly amused by the notion, you huff lightly. “You’re right.”

           Still, Volo remains where is, and as the truth of his remark painstakingly hits you, you concede that you’d much rather prefer his company now.

           At least… at least you won’t be alone, when you should be as happy as the others in the village are.

           And Volo—he’s special to you, no matter how much you don’t want to admit that to him.

           You make up your mind then.

           He should stay.

           “You can sit, if you want.”

           With a drooping arm, you gesture limply somewhere to your right.

           He walks silently—you think he’d at least make a sound this time, but he does not—and gratefully accepting your invitation, he seats himself beside you.

           Your eyes haven’t left the ocean, not even when he sits so close to you.

           You can feel the heat of his body just against your arm, and somewhere in the back of your befuddled, dejected mind, you entertain the idea of simply falling against him. To revel in his warmth, his comfort.

           The cool sea breeze buffets against your cheeks, and you remind yourself that such a thing would be improper for your relationship.

           Your friendship, at where it currently stands.

           Perhaps Volo is one of the few who truly cares about you. He’d sought you out now, after all.

           He must care, right?

           Are you so alone, then?

           How pathetic, you think, as you nearly permit every insecurity to rise to the churning surface of your sea of anguished thoughts.

           “I haven’t spoken with you at all tonight, and then I find you alone here.”

           Ah.

           There’s a question in his statement, but you’re glad he doesn’t say anything more than that.

           Something tugs at your heart, and you want to tell him more. To admit to him you’d wanted to be alone because you are alone in Hisui.

           Your Pokémon would stay at your side, but they couldn’t change the way you’d felt alone all this time.

           So alone in your experience in Hisui, and why you had ended up here.

           Perhaps it’s too self-deprecating to think of it as so, but you don’t know what else to believe anymore. How can you come to terms with people so willing to throw you away, then beg for your assistance, but only for the necessity of your service?

           “Maybe it’s foolish that I want to be alone,” you rasp out.

           You shrug off the haori over your shoulders, and your hands strip the headband from your hair. Shedding their leaden, overbearing weight, you set them aside on the grass.

           You don’t cast them another glance.

           You hardly notice that you shiver as the next sea breeze rolls in; it’s the end of summer, but the wind is cold.

           And once more, you’re grateful that Volo doesn’t ask a thing of you.

           “But at the same time, I don’t want to be alone, either.”

           It’s a hoarse whisper that he still manages to hear.

           He doesn’t need to ask why you feel so alone. He had been there at your lowest point, when he’d rescued you from the darkness threatening to toss you into the unrelenting abyss of your exile.

           And then, he had grown too attached to you for his own good.

           How defenseless you are now, how trusting of him that you will admit such a thing to him, how he can’t find it in himself to just let you be…

           Volo decides he would regret it if he didn’t take this chance to pull you closer, deeper into his very being.

           …Even if he shouldn’t.

           You almost yelp when Volo shifts beside you, when he’s suddenly bundling you up in a hug. His arms wind around your own as he deftly pulls you into the space before him, his legs shifting to settle outside yours. He curves around you just so, his chin resting upon the top of your head.

           “You’re cold,” he observes plainly, as if that somehow explains everything.

           There’s not an inkling of shame or embarrassment in his tone, but you wish that there was. You wish there was, for his heat is nestled against every part of you, and you can smell the faint scent of earthy trees and fragrant flowers on his clothes and feel his breath against your prickling skin.

           You’re abashed at how close he is, and yet…

           you don’t want him to let go.

           Perhaps this is his answer to your confession. That he won’t allow you to be alone, if you’ll have him.

           You want to let him stay. You want to have him.

           Shivering at the thought, and the fact that he’s so close, you exhale shakily. You know he’d felt it, and you know he can feel your rapidly thumping heartbeat.

           You can’t hide it.

           “You’re shivering still,” Volo points out with a thoughtful hum.

           Clearly not from the cold, though.

           As if he understands what you want, however, he gently gathers your hands in his own.

           It’s with a start then, do you realize this is the first time you’ve held his hands.

           They’re calloused, obviously from the more demanding labor of his work with the guild and his escapades into various ruins. They’re rough in some areas on his palms, but when your fingers tentatively explore the rest of his hands, you’re surprised by how soft they are. How warm, how kind, and how lovely they feel in yours.

           “Your hands… They’re soft,” you say absently, a mild note of astonishment echoing in your words.

           Then, struck by another thought, you stare down at your own hands, so rugged and bruised and scarred.

           Nothing like his.

           A smooth chuckle quavers against your back as Volo leans into you, his pleasant warmth healing some exhausted, ravaged remnant of your beaten soul.

           He laughs shortly, though not intending to demean you. Right along with his words, you feel his laugh run through your body, soothing you. “Thank you. But I quite like your hands.”

           Before you have a chance to even ask what he means, Volo moves to hold your hands completely in his.

           “They show how hard you’ve worked.”

           Fuck.

           You feel those pitiful tears returning again.

           Laying his head against yours, Volo continues on, unmistakable tenderness sighing beneath his words, “And I see how hard you’ve worked, even if no one else has. I always will.”

           His thumbs brush over yours.

           The action is so compassionate, so soft, that you almost want to give up and break down, without a care in the world.

           It’s true.

           Volo has. It’s why he’d been the only one who’d scoured the land searching for you after you’d been exiled, to offer you a safe haven when no one else could. When no one else would.

           But now, sitting in his embrace, feeling so warm and loved in his care, you think you hadn’t even needed that, as long as you could remain with him.

           He is your safe haven.

           How had you not thought of it before?

           “Thank you, for saying that.” Gradually, you relax against him, a wobbling breath easing its way into the night. “I don’t think anyone else here has ever spoken to me like this.”

           Volo hums again, this time moving impossibly closer, his cheek nearly touching yours. His blond tresses tickle your skin, and you marvel at the warm feeling that consoles your aching, splintering heart. Is this how you’d felt in your life of the past? Did you have someone else important to you back then?

           Strangely enough, you don’t know if you want to remember.

           Not when Volo is here now, with you. Not a fleeting figment of what you’d left behind, not a ghost of your past, but a friend at your side, in the present.

           A friend.

           But is that all he is?

           You know the answer already.

           You’ve wanted him to be more than that, but whether it’s because you want someone to fill the void of loneliness in your heart or because you really are attracted to him, you can’t readily say.

           Perhaps it’s a bit of both, then.

           “Then I will.”

           You fight against your tears, and if Volo can feel you trembling once more, he says nothing of it.

           Instead, he only goes on.

           “Your arms as well, so firm and unyielding, to help you overcome every obstacle in your way,” murmurs Volo, his hands leaving yours to idly push your sleeves upward with each of his words.

           Your breath stutters.

           His fingers trace the scars marking your skin, as they meander up toward your shoulders.

           Another shudder, one that you don’t even try to suppress.

           Volo nuzzles against your hair, and you welcome his caress; if he will be here for you like this, then you don’t want to push him away.

           “Strong, just as your shoulders are”—his fingers press into your shoulders lightly, and you stifle a gasp—“to be able to carry burdens that are not even yours.”

           Undeniable veneration rings in his words. You can’t comprehend it for a moment—how he seems to hold you in such high regard, with a staggering amount of unfettered awe for you that is unheard of in Hisui.

           “But most of all,” Volo begins, just before sighing, and the noise almost sounds wistful—loving, even.

           He hesitates, his hands still upon your shoulders, as though he’s debating speaking honestly or not.

           You sit, motionless, despite how quickly your heart is racing.

           At last, he gives in, one hand gliding over your left arm, before cautiously angling in, toward you.

           Your eyes remain fixed on the ocean. You can’t breathe, you don’t know what you should do at this moment, he’s just so close to you—

           His hand presses over your heart, and you freeze.

           “But most of all, your heart is what has drawn me to you.”

           …What?

           The heat of his hand suddenly burns at the frigid loneliness gripping your deprived heart. Something gives, then, as your heart reaches fiercely for that warmth, and finally, a noise escapes you.

           A miserable, defeated noise. A whimper, a cry, something you’d never let anyone else hear, and yet, Volo is the first and only one to hear it.

           “Your heart, so full of kindness for the people who you don’t even know.” You’re vaguely aware of Volo’s lips upon the back of your neck, a fluttering kiss gently placed just below your hairline. “So stout, so resilient, even after everything that they’ve done to you.”

           The tears nearly spill down your cheeks.

           Volo, I—I don’t think I deserve you.

           “I sometimes wonder if I deserve you,” chuckles the man wrapped around you, as he says your name, the heat against your back and over your chest suddenly so evident to you now.

           Did I say that out loud?

           Had you been more aware, you would have thought there to be something else in his hushed praise—something else that almost seems like too much, in the way that he’d spoken your name.

           Your hand clamps down over his on your heart, but you don’t spare it another thought. He doesn’t do anything to halt you, instead parting his fingers for yours to lace between them.

           Then, Volo guides a hand to brace your chin, with a delicate touch meant to direct you only toward him, and nothing else.

           “Volo,” you start quietly, with wavering eyes, as you blink up at him, “I think I—”

           You stop when you see that there’s nothing but affection in his gray eye, startling in how it matches the intensity with which he’s holding you to him.

           Prompting you to continue, he says your name again, as if it’s the sweetest melody one could sing.

           But you can’t say what you want to, just yet.

           Instead, you only close your eyes and squeeze his hand in yours.

           “Please don’t leave me.”

           Volo smiles delightfully, lowering his head to rest his forehead against yours. He wants to be true to you, to tell you that he won’t go, but inside, his heart is tearing at him savagely. He cannot.

           Then why did you come here? a voice seems to ask him, and he shuts his eyes in a silent reply, hoping you won’t see the conflict on his stricken face.

           How can he leave you like this, so shattered and fragile, wearing a look of suffering you’d never shown anyone else before?

           You, the unparalleled Hero of Hisui?

           A jaded part of him should rejoice at your weakness, the part of him which knows what he must eventually do.

           But he cannot do that, either.

           You’ve trusted him with your vulnerability. You believe him to be so genuine, his heart in the right place.

           Volo loves you. He really does.

           And while he cradles you close, could he say that he doesn’t know a thing of your loneliness?

           He’s been lonely for his whole life.

           Lonely, in his childhood, when the unfair cruelty of the world had made it clear to him that he had no one else to turn to. Lonely, when he had learned he would then be the only one who could change the world to be what he—no, what everyone, even you—would need.

           But maybe with you, and you with him, neither of you will be so lonely anymore.

           And perhaps that’s why, as you curl into his embrace, with a broken expression, Volo smiles again, whispering so softly that he wonders if he should have even bothered to speak such a beautiful lie at all,

           “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

[mariatesstruther]

Stay with me,,,, (I'm half asleep so everything I'm saying is nonsense. Forgive)

Tommy and Maria being similar to Jake and Amy, right?

HOW DID TOMMY AND MARIA PROPOSE TO EACH OTHER?

cause I'm thinking of how Jake proposed to Amy and how it was the best thing ever, which made me think of tommy and maria, which made me think they should have a similar vibe

BUT IDK!!!!

OKAY OKAY OKAY I HAVE IDEAS ON THIS

first of all im kicking myself bc i read a tumblr post or fic or SOMETHING online somewhere before that inspired a small bit of how i imagine tommy would propose, and now i can’t find it??? so if this*** sounds familiar it’s definitely based on something i’m just blanking on what it is and will give full credit to op or whatever fucking thing im forgetting. this is also partly based off of how my dad and my mom became official

similar to jake and amy, i imagine them having a really goofy and sweet proposal story, like tommy has to ask maria a million times or sometimes does fake-outs like jim from the office, and maybe it’s something the entirety of jackson is invested.

im also thinking maybe maria wouldn’t want to reallyget married again, not necessarily because of her late husband but more because jackson just makes such a fuss out of weddings and she does not have time to plan that shit and she had a big wedding for her first marriage for the sake of her mother and hated it, so yeah no. she’s just maybe not big on getting married, and for the first bit of time she’s with tommy, she know he really likes her but isn’t surely thinking he wants anything serious. so for a while, maybe a year and a half to two years in, it’s just them being in love as tommy and maria, more partners than anything else to eachother, and that’s just fine with her

so imagine her surprise when one day her and tommy are eating dinner in the dining hall and one of jackson’s biggest gossips comes over and is like “y’all are just too darn cute—now tommy, when are we gonna see a ring on that finger?? it’s a shame this lady aint tied down” and tommy, cool as a fucking cucumber, just goes “oh don’t you worry, i got plans for that” because ??????????? huh????—?

she has to hold back choking on her fucking drink, she’s so taken aback. she waits until whoever that was goes on their marry fuckin way and then blinks, going “um????? you’ve got plans???” because maria is always the one with the plans. tommy hates plans. he says he loves that she loves them, but in a life an unpredictable as this, they often just get in the way; she doesn’t always disagree. but now, apparently, his plan for marriage is sure as his shooting aim, because he just smiles at her a dashingly and winks, murmuring out a smooth and flirty “yes, ma’am. i do i have plans.” for the rest of the dinner, her left leg bounces shakily under the table as he smirks as her from across the way.

because suddenly marriage doesn’t sound so bad, not when it’s marriage to her handsome cowboy goofball; the wedding she would still definitely rather just skip, but she’s sure she can convince tommy of that later. so for the rest of the night and week and month, she is on Red Alert to be proposed to, and unfortunately it just wracks her nerves

but because tommy is Tommy, he lovingly teases and fucks with her just perfectly enough to settle her mind down. he starts mixing in fake-out proposals (he does the shoe-tying one from the office while they’re hiking and watching a sunset during a romantic preproposal date two-person patrol, and she threatens to kick him off the cliff) with joking little asks for her hand in between mundane requests (hey baby, could you be a dear and marry me, then pass me the salt? im kiddin, just kiddin, i aint gonna ask like tha—what? what?? maria! come back!), also mixed with genuinely breathtaking little notes to declare how much he loves her one every few days (a note left on her dresser for her to wake up to one rare morning where tommy was up and out before her: “hey baby. just wanted to let you know how much i love you and how lucky i am to be here with you in my life. you guide me toward a greatness i never thought i could even achieve. i want to make you happy everyday. i can’t wait to call you my wife. seeya at lunch, mi vida. yours, tommy”) until eventually the pressure of being asked The Big Thing isn’t something she’s so anxious for anymore, until thinking about it just makes her smile. she’s looking forward to tommy being her husband more than anything

@bearrycool tysm again baby i got to go to sleep and wake up thinking abt this and it puts a big big big smile on my face

[queentala]

Gavriel and Rowan for @hot-ashryver bc I love them

Having those two as lovers is like a win at a lottery. Basically, you're set up for the rest of your life as they would rather fling themselves off a cliff than see you lift a finger

They’re constantly jumping around you, making sure you’re happy, healthy and comfortable

You need anything? One word and they’re already on the way to bring you whatever your heart desires, let it even be the moon on a string

You’re bathed in affection 24/7, and given that Gavriel and Rowan love each other as much as they love you, there’s so much warmth, kisses and cuddles in your life

It’s a really healthy relationship. You can always tell them everything and know for sure that you’ll find comfort and support in their arms, of course vice versa

Both are extremely supportive of your hobbies and job, and want you to fulfill yourself, but even if they’re never going to say it out loud, they’d be more than happy if you decided to stay home and let them provide for you

Just knowing that you’re safe home plus they get to have you all to themself is making them feel somehow calmer

They hate seeing you worried or sad, but because they are both warriors and sometimes they simply leave for war, you spend weeks, months even, worrying about them and not once crying as you know there’s nothing you can do but hope they come back to you in one piece

Your goodbyes are painful for all of you, but once your eye catch their figures in the crowd of soldiers, your feet carry you faster than wind and within seconds you’re back in their embrace

Those evening are always spend with the three of you tangled between sheets. Sometimes naked, other times clothed... It never matters as long as you’re together

Rowan and Gavriel are slightly overprotective when it comes to your safety so they’re always on either of your sides, Rowan’s hand on your lower back, Gavriel’s tangled with yours as you walk through the city. Any male or female that looks at you a second too long has to immediately deal with narrowed eyes and exposed fangs aimed at them

They are also both light sleepers and at the beginning of your relationship they used to shoot awake at your slightest move. As it started to become tiring, they started caging you in their iron grips for the night, depriving you of the ability to move in your sleep

You complained for some time but after one night when you were forced to sleep alone as Rowan and Gavriel were off on a mission, you missed their touch so much that now it’s your arms around them so they couldn’t let you go as they roll over or something

Also, they would really want to start a family with you

And not being able to imagine better fathers in the world, you just couldn’t say no to them

You end up having a lot of children, with each one of them being completely different

One identical as Rowan, one the exact copy of Gavriel, baby girl that looks like mammy, boy with golden hair and mama’s eyes, and baby that’s 50/50 you and Rowan

Every single one of them is loved exactly the same by every one of you, and your kids are the happiest in the world with two amazing fathers and the most perfect mama 

Gods I think I need to make a separate post for these two as fathers as I could write about this for hours...

Anyway, you’re pregnant? Their overprotectiveness gets like ten times bigger

They are both pleasure doms and the most passionate lovers you could imagine so you could never say you lack something in bedroom

There’s also no pressure that it’s always has to be the three of you. It’s fine if you have sex only with Rowan or only with Gavriel, and you’re completely fine if you come back home to your men naked and sweaty in bed (in fact you don’t mind sitting on a couch with glass of vine in hand and watch your lovers in bed)

Conclusions: they are perfect

[mlchaelwheeler]

Why Mike and El Shouldn't (And Won't) Be Endgame

Before I start this analysis of sorts, I just want to say that yes, I do believe byler will be endgame, but I will be taking an objective perspective to Mike and El's respective characters, as well as their relationship with each other. That aside, let's dive in!

Mike and El meet at a very eventful time in both of their lives. For Mike, his best friend of 7 years has just gone missing. For El, she's just escaped a prison (the lab) where she's spent her whole life. They are pushed together by a mutual need: Mike needs El to find Will, and El needs Mike to survive the real world, and stay away from the "bad men." It's clear throughout S1 that Mike and El have created a special bond--while some call it romantic, I don't think that's really on their minds. What they want (and need at this point) is a strong friendship.

El has just escaped from the only place she's ever known, thrust into a new world she knows nothing about, and in which she knows no one. Should she be jumping into a romantic relationship 2ish days after meeting Mike? No, she absolutely should not. I doubt she even understands what romance is, let alone the difference between being Mike's friend or his girlfriend--to her, they likely mean the same thing: Mike cares about her. It's the same for Mike. S1 shows (and tells) us over and over again that Mike isn't thinking about El as a possible girlfriend. Lucas tells him: "if you love her so much, why don't you marry her?" Dustin questions why Mike doesn't understand why Lucas is upset and has to spell it out that Lucas is jealous of El--jealous that Mike is wasting time on her when they could be looking for Will at the lab. Even Nancy asks Mike if he likes El. To all 3 of these querys, Mike responds negatively or is confused. He clearly isn't thinking about El romantically, but he is starting to realize maybe he should be, since everyone is asking him about her.

For me, S1 is the purest and best form of Mike and El's relationship. It's their true dynamic together before they're forced to conform to outside expectations. Once S2 starts, we see El watching romantic soap operas on tv, likely shaping her view of what romance is like. After her rushed kiss with Mike in the S1 finale, she's likely realizing that this means she's Mike's girlfriend now, and should be initiating romantic interactions between them. From the soap operas, she's getting a very over exaggerated view of what romance is--however, she has no way to tell that it's not realistic. In soap operas, people break up all the time and get back together the next episode. It's normal, right? She sure thinks so. This will go on to skew her views of her relationship with Mike. No matter what they go through, or how he treats her, it will always work out in the end. That's how the soap operas go anyways. El is clinging to a sense of perceived normalcy because she so desperately wants to be normal for once.

While Mike doesn't see El much in S2 (he's with Will all season), he calls her on the radio every night since she goes missing. Lots of people read this as romantic and a big love confession of sorts, but I think Mike would've done this for any one of the Party. Time and time again, we're shown how loyal Mike is to his friends--remember, this is the same Mike who jumped off a cliff to save Dustin's teeth!! He obviously felt massive guilt over El's "death" in the S1 finale. She slept in his basement, helped him find Will alive, relied on him to keep her safe from the "bad men," and then "died" keeping him and his friends safe? No wonder he called her every night hoping she was still out there--after all, he did see her that same night outside his living room window, so he did have a reason to hope she'd actually hear him. Again though, if Lucas or Dustin would've disappeared instead of El, I think Mike would've called them on the radio too, trying to reach them. Remember, all throughout S1, Mike believed (not really) that Will was dead--and even saw his body!--but still attempted to contact him over the radio multiple times. If he did this for Will, obviously he would for El too. These are parallels that should be noticed together.

Moving on to S3, this is the first time we see Mike and El as an actual couple. This is obviously the first relationship for either of them, and it's made clear from the start of the season that they're not better together than they are apart. Whereas their interactions are sweet and inclusive of their friends in S1 and S2, come S3, they're ignoring everyone in favor of constantly making out. They don't even really talk to each other! When Mike tries singing, El tells him to stop and just resumes kissing him. When Mike tries to find El a gift at the mall, he is unable to do so--not because he doesn't have enough money, but because he has no idea what she'd actually like.

The sad thing is, no matter what he'd pick out, El would probably love it, because it's from Mike. S3 makes it clear El hasn't grown her sense of identity at all since escaping the lab--nearly 2 years prior! She sadly asks Max at the mall, "how do I know what I like?" She's never actually stopped to consider what she might enjoy because she just always goes along with whatever Mike or Hopper tells her. That's not really anyone's fault, it's just how it is because they're teaching her about the normal world. She's been learning so much that she hasn't had time to stop and think about what she enjoys. Luckily, the break she gets from Mike allows her to explore other possibilities--new styles, new food, and new friendships. Her time with Max is the time when she arguable gets the most growth character-wise in the series. She can focus on herself without being caught up in Mike.

I should also point out here that the story makes it clear that El only grows as a character when she's apart from Mike. This is intentional--when she's Mike's girlfriend, she is stagnant as a character. In S2, her solo adventure to discover her past helps her understand her roots and develop her powers. She becomes more independent--traveling to Mama's house and Chicago by herself, which is a huge step for her after not leaving the lab for 12 years. Then, she gets back to Hawkins and "defeats" the mindflayer, but from that point on her character falls short, as she goes back to Mike. She regains this sense of independence and agency in S3 after she breaks up with Mike, and has more development up until she loses her powers. When 3 months go by, and she's moving, she seems to be back to how she was before the breakup--completely dependent on Mike. We see this again in the opening of S4. Her room is a literal shrine to Mike! She has't made any friends, has isolated herself emotionally and physically, and is sending letters full of lies to Mike. When Mike arrived in California, they go back to their old S3 selves, but things are a bit off because El's covering for her lies. She's obviously angry because Mike can't tell her he loves her, so she's in tune that something in their relationship is wrong. Unfortunately, El sees her worth as being tied to her powers, so when Dr. Owens gives her the opportunity to get them back, she jumps at the chance. Maybe Mike will love her if she goes to become a superhero again. After all, that's why he "fell in love" with her in the first place right? Because she used her powers to find Will and save them from the demogorgan?

El's narrative has been building up her independence since the beginning of S2. She has to realize that her powers do not define her--she's worth so much for just being her! If Mike tells her he loves her just after she gets her powers back, it will feel cheap. El should be affronted by this, and should rightfully call him out. Mike can find thousands of other reasons to love El besides her powers! If he can't say it, well, there must be a deeper reason. I think that by diving into her past, El has been able to understand her trauma more fully and grow from that, triggering her hopeful resurgence of independence. However, the story has made it clear that she can't do that while being in a romantic relationship with Mike.

Speaking of Mike, let's look closer at how his interactions with El have changed after becoming her boyfriend vs when they were just friends. I think everyone can agree that Mike and El were adorable in S1. Their smiles, their understanding that they were both missing something (a home and a best friend), and their actions say it all. However, these are all platonic things, and I think they both viewed themselves as just friends until other people brought romantic feelings into the equation. In S1, Mike shows lots of emotion when interacting with El: his smile and voice after she saves him from the cliff ("El, you're not the monster, you saved me. You saved me!"), explaining what friendship is, setting up the basement fort for her, yelling at Papa as he takes her away, etc. Mike also shows emotion with her in S2, before they're properly "together." However, his interactions with her feel much more forced and unemotional with her from S3 onward. He doesn't even seem a bit sad after El breaks up with him--if anything, he seems offended, not something someone who just lost the love of their life should feel. When he tries to clue El into his feelings in the grocery store, he stutters around the real words, unable to make eye contact or say "I love you." When she confesses her love to him before moving away, he doesn't respond and looks downright confused after their kiss. When she confronts him about "from Mike" in S4, Mike is stiff and unemotional as El sobs in front of him. He blames other people for their problems when the real problem is himself. This isn't the same Mike as S1-2, where he would've shown at least some emotion and done anything to make El feel better.

These are key narrative choices that the show has been pushing to show that something's not right--things are not as they should be. If we step back and look at Mike and El's narratives as a whole, it's clear that they're both worse versions of themselves when they're together. Mike becomes an unemotional puppet of himself, simply going through the motions of being in a relationship. El becomes completely dependent and lost in a fantasy world of soap opera-type relationships, and is unable to cope with faced with real-world problems. If the show has constantly pushed this idea, how does it make sense that they'd end up together? Why stunt the development of 2 main characters just to have Mike and El end in a romantic relationship? It's clear that they're the most genuine with each other--and the rest of their friends/family--when they're platonic with a capital P. The narrative isn't building up to a big romantic confession, it's leading to a mutual understanding that they never shouldn't rushed into a relationship they neither wanted nor understood in the first place.

[wardenparker]

You’re So Vain - Chapter 5

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.    

Rating: Teen. But this blog is *always* 18+ Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, fake dating, alcohol consumption. Summary: On your third date with Dieter, Libby insists that you post a kiss on social media.  Notes: Sorry for being a little late with this chapter today guys, chronic illness is a bitch. Thanks for reading!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

It’s rare that Nora goes to daycare this summer, but today Steph is getting ready for work at the same time you’re getting ready for your dreaded third date with Dieter. Luckily Libby didn’t seem to know about the way the last date ended and she was nothing but cheery on the phone two days ago. Disney, she had told you in that voice that said there was more than just the Happiest Place on Earth in store for you. The dreaded part of this date comes in the form of your mandatory display of affection: a kiss in front of the iconic castle that will be posted all over his social media and the Mate Marks ad campaign. The last thing in the world you want to do is kiss him, but as Steph has pointed out: you’re getting a day at Disney out of it. Hopefully that will be some kind of comfort when you’re compulsively brushing your teeth later tonight.

“Why do I have to pick her up?” It’s been weeks since he’s seen you and honestly, it’s probably better that way. He kind of feels like a jackass for what he said but he also doesn’t believe that pathetic excuse for an apology was good enough either. Libby sighs - a long suffering sound that makes Dieter almost believe that he might get his way. Until she answers him. “Because you two need to ride together, Dee. You can’t show up at Disneyland in different cars. Just— the last date went well. Pick her up, enjoy the park, kiss her, and bring her home.” She tells him sternly, already having dealt with him whining about wanting to smoke weed again. “Fine.” He rolls his eyes and grabs his keys off the counter. “This better work. Because I’d rather give myself a circumcision than fucking deal with more insults.” He huffs.

******

You got antsy waiting for it to be time and ended up volunteering to get Nora loaded into her car seat to help Steph out. She's fighting you on it today, asking over and over why she can't spend the day with you, and you're so close to calling and asking to postpone the start of the day when Dieter's car pulls into the driveway.

Dieter anticipated staying in the car, but he could hear the little girl’s loud protests and see the flailing limbs from the driver’s seat. Climbing out, he walks over to the shiny SUV, hooks his arm over the door and peers in the space between it and the car’s frame. “Hey, squirt.”

"Deedee!" Nora practically screeches, propelling herself out of her car seat yet again to grab for a hug. "Deedee tell Auntie Gigi that is 'sokay for me to stay home today!"

He grins and reaches out to hug her, looking around and giving the little girl a shrug. “You gonna stay home all alone?” He asks. “Momma’s gotta work and Gigi’s gotta go do boring adult stuff.” He rolls his eyes playfully like going to Disney is the worst. Not that she knows that’s where you’re going.

"How boring?" She asks, as though she's suspicious that he could ever be involved in something boring. The only times she's ever seen him, something big and cool always happens like her mother getting a big, new, shiny car.

“Reallllllllly boring.” Dieter huffs, giving the little girl a great big pout. “Boring enough that she probably wants to go with you to play with your friends.” He had no doubt you would rather be with Nora than with him, so he’s not lying.

"I'll be back tonight, sweetie." You promise her, hoping you can just get her to settle down long enough to get her buckled in before Steph comes out of the house. "You always have so much fun at day care, I know you're going to have so much fun with your friends." It's neither here nor there that you would much rather be at home with her like any other normal day.

“I wanna go with you!” She huffs, trying to throw off her straps. Frowning and on the verge of a meltdown.

Dieter raises a brow and smirks as you blow out an exasperated breath. “Tell you what, squirt.” He grabs her attention, apparently the nickname tickles her. “If you are good for your Gigi and go to day care with your friends like a good girl, I’ll make sure you get a treat tonight when Gigi comes home. Whadya say?”

Bribery isn't necessarily your favourite tactic with Nora, but she seems intrigued by the offer and it might be the only way to avoid a full meltdown, so you don't argue the point while she considers. Her little mouth is set in a pout but she definitely understands the concept of bargaining better than the average four-year-old. "'Kay," she agrees finally, flopping backward and allowing you to finally buckle her in safely.

“’Kay.” Dieter sasses her with a wink that makes her giggle. Happy that at least one of the women in his life is happy with him. He likes her, even if he’s only met her twice. She’s a cool little kid and he vibes with that.

"Dieter!" Steph comes outside a second later, smiling and looking relaxed since you were the one who wrestled with her willful little minion today instead of her. "How are you, honey?" She knows all of what happened at the concert, but she has also made it known that your apology was fairly half-assed in her opinion, and she's decided that Dieter Bravo is okay in her book. At least unless he does something truly horrific - but she doesn't think that's very likely to occur considering how kind he's been to her and Nora.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dieter comes over and gives Stephanie a hug. “I’m doing alright, how’s everything here?” He would ask you, but he doesn’t want to. He would rather talk to someone who actually likes him.

"Everything's really good." She's all smiles this morning, clutching the travel mug of coffee in her hand. "My folks are coming down for a visit next week to see their grandbaby for her birthday so we're just cleaning the house and getting the guest room ready. It will be nice to see them."

“That’s good.” Dieter nods and looks over at Nora. “Birthday, huh?” He asks, sending her another wink. “What are you asking for?”

"Shoes that light up!" Nora tells him excitedly, swinging her feet now that she's secure in her seat. "And a cowgirl hat. I wanna wear them every day in kin-dee-garters."

He nods seriously. “As you should.” He tells her sagely. “That would be really cool.”

"She's excited for big girl school," Steph laughs. "I can't believe she's already old enough for kindergarten." With a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulder, Steph leans in to give Dieter another hug. "Say goodbye to Deedee and Aunt Gigi, Nora. We gotta go."

"Bye-bye Deedee!" She crows, all waves and with every ounce of sadness she had felt just minutes ago completely gone. "Bye-bye Auntie Gigi!"

“Bye, sweetie." You lean into the car to give her a kiss before backing up again, waving as Steph double checks her seat and shuts the door to hop behind the wheel.

Dieter waves to Nora and gives her a big thumbs up as they back out of the driveway. Once they are driving away, the smile slides off his face and he turns to walk back to his car.

"Hi." It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes or grumble at him as you quickly swipe up the ridiculous, white sequined Minnie Mouse backpack that Libby sent for you to use today. It arrived with matching white sequined sneakers and a flowy tank top and shorts that will show off every single bit of the ink that Dieter has put on your skin over the years.

“Hey.” His own response is flat, and he lifts a brow at your outfit. Happy that Libby hadn’t dressed him for going to fucking Disney. He had gotten to wear what he wanted. A pair of his plaid shorts and a plain t-shirt with a hat. The only thing she had argued with him on was his crocs, so he was wearing Converse sneakers instead. “Ready?” He asks, opening the car door.

“There’s something I want to say before we go.” Standing there clutching that stupid little backpack makes you feel juvenile, but you don’t want to wait and say this in the middle of a crowded amusement park just in case it goes badly. The last thing you need is another too-public humiliation. You don’t huff, or sigh, or grumble - just square your shoulders and hold your chin up high. Be a goddamn adult about it, you remind yourself. “I’m sorry. I passed judgement on something I knew nothing about, and that was as unfair to you as it was unkind. Even if your tattoos had nothing to do with a family member that passed, I still should have asked instead of assuming.” The last couple of weeks have been filled with a lot of introspection and a lot of Steph lovingly kicking your ass as you kicked hers right back, but you hadn’t told Libby that you planned to apologize. Only promising her that you would be on your best behavior because you really can’t predict Dieter’s reactions. “I can’t undo what I’ve said, but I am apologizing for it and telling you that I’m going to do better.” Ultimately, your bullshit is your own. He won’t be in your life anymore after a few more of these dates, but one day you’re going to have to look Nora in the eye and tell her it’s time to be the bigger person or apologize for doing something wrong, and you can’t rightfully do that if you can’t do it yourself.

Dieter feels himself freeze in shock. They are words he never expected to hear from you. Sure, you have that immediate little apology when he slapped you with the truth, but he hadn’t expected you to actually acknowledge what you had done. “Um, thank you.” He clears his throat and looks over towards the house for a second before he looks back at you. Actually meets your eyes. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you. I just— I was angry and hurt.” He shakes his head and sighs. “But it wasn’t right either, and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. Thank you.” It’s awkward - it’s very awkward - but you put your hands out to do what Steph suggested. After you apologize, give him a hug. It’s not like you’ve never touched him before, it’s just never been willingly.

Now he’s wondering what the hell is going on. Eyeing you warily, he doesn’t see a knife or an ice pick in your hands and Dieter is enough of a secret affection whore that he’s stepping closer to you. Reaching out and accepting the hug.

It only lasts a second or two, but it's still there, and it doesn't instantly cause you psychic damage or whatever like those games that your brother used to play. "Okay, um...ready to go?"

“Disney, here we come.” Dieter says, only being a little sarcastic. “A least Nora didn’t find out that’s where we’re going.”

"She would have rioted," you laugh, getting into the car. "Daycare can never compare to the magic of Disney."

“Of course it can’t.” Dieter chuckles. “Steph sent me a picture of her first time. Looked like she was in love with it.”

"She was." Once you're both in the car, he wastes no time backing out of your driveway and heading back out to the highway. The half hour drive to Anaheim should fly by if you can keep your resolve to behave. "She has added princess to her list of future careers, right under cowgirl and fairy."

“Solid job considerations.” Dieter jokes, merging with traffic smoothly. “Children should always be encouraged to explore their passions.”

"Right now the sky is the limit for her in terms of dreams. It's just getting her health under control so that nothing else will stand in her way." She's doing better, at least, and hasn't had to go to the hospital in two whole months which is an extreme improvement over the beginning of the year.

“Yeah.” Dieter frowns, wondering what would be down the line for her. He may have read some articles on her disease. Just out of curiosity. “Hopefully that happens.”

"She's doing better." He sounds concerned, and that actually shouldn't surprise you considering he's said how much he likes kids. "No unscheduled hospital trips in two months, and her doctor nailed down the dosage for her medicine. So...good things are on the horizons."

“That’s great.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ve heard there some great clinics in Spain and Istanbul.”

"Yeah." You and Steph had done endless reading on all the best doctors and clinics all over the world for pediatric medicine, trying to see if anyone seemed to know anything about the mysterious symptoms not connected to Nora's main diagnosis, but those were just a pipe dream. "But even debt free, those are...they're hard to get her seen at. For now, we're just glad that she's doing better."

“I can agree with that.” Dieter doesn’t know what he would do if someone he cares about was chronically ill. “Hopefully one day they figure out everything.”

"That's the hope." Sitting back in the seat, you watch the highway roll by out your window and try to relax a little in your seat. "Have you, um...have you heard anything about that movie in Switzerland?" He had mentioned it at the concert and Libby mentioned it to you once. The way she was talking, it was something very big deal. Something he wanted.

Dieter nods. “I got it.” He is happy that he did, looking forward to going back there again and revisiting some of his favorite places. “Filming for four weeks.” He spots the Anaheim exit for Disney and slides into the exit lane.

“That’s good.” It seems like a short amount of time to film a movie, but honestly what the hell do you know about filming movies? He probably has more to do when he gets back to California. “Can I ask…um, what’s special about Switzerland? Libby made it sound like your favorite place in the world.”

Dieter looks over at you and gives you small grin before looking back at the road. “My mom was Swiss.” He announces. “It was something we always wanted to do, go visit. Danica and I.” He sighs. “I— after she, uh, you know – filming in Switzerland saved my life. Or being able to go wander through Hans Holbein’s works saved me.” He gives a nonchalant shrug; almost afraid you will have something critical to say.

“So you do like portraiture.” It’s definitely not what you were expecting him to say at all, honestly you don’t really know what you were expecting him to say, but it’s unexpected all the same. “There’s this painting he did of Lais of Corinth that is just mesmerizing…I’ve tried to paint myself in that pose so many times. She’s wearing the same gown as Venus in his portrait of Venus and Amor and I just…I swear if I had all the money in the world I would get married in a reproduction of it or something. It’s all just gorgeous.”

“It’s a memorizing piece.” Dieter agrees. “Even more stunning in person.”

“You’ve seen her?” It may be the first time you’ve ever envied him, and you’re sure the look of awe on your face says so.

“I spent hours staring at her.” He nods, not mentioning that he was so fucking high at the time that it was ridiculous. “Every day I would sit with her. Absorbing everything I could from her.”

“Wow…” Slumped in your seat a little, you nearly laugh at the irony of someone you consider having no taste also loving one of your favorite paintings. “Well…if you see her again while you’re there, give her my regards.”

“I will.” Dieter follows the signs for parking, between the lines of others rushing to get to the park. “I figure I will go and visit before I even go to set. She knows a lot of my secrets from back then.”

You have no doubt that he has plenty of secrets, but part of your promise to yourself to do better is to not point that out. “Libby asked me to start an Instagram today,” you tell him as he parks the car, holding your phone tight in one hand. “She, uh…she wants me to use it all day. And I guess at the next thing we’re used to go to. Somebody’s birthday party?”

“Yeah.” Dieter rolls his eyes and snorts. “It’s just going to be a large party of Hollywood. Drugs, sex and actors.” Although he’s been told he can’t have anything but booze.

“I’ll stick to booze.” Anything else just isn’t in your wheelhouse anymore and you refocus your attention on your phone to open the Instagram app that you downloaded last night but haven’t touched yet. Since you don’t have any other social media you don’t have a standard handle of any kind so you just sort of stare blankly for longer than you’re proud of.

“I have to as well.” He rolls his eyes and huffs as he pulls into a parking spot. Turning the car off, he looks over at you. “Have you figured it out?”

“Not really.” Steph had suggested that you ask him for help when you asked her last night and that had made you grumpy for about an hour before you decided to throw up your hands and go to bed because it was midnight. “I need a name first, I guess?”

Dieter hums, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Something to do with your art.” He suggests. “RenaissanceArtTeacher or some shit.” He chuckles. “Impressionist101.”

“Something like ImpressionistAuntie is probably too dumb, right?” It’s two fundamental pieces of your personality - your art and your role as an aunt - but you’re no good at what Libby so firmly calls branding.

“Nah it’s perfect.” Dieter tells you over the hood of the car as he closes the door. “It’s your account, it should be reflective of who you are. Art is at the core, and I know you love your niece.”

It’s surprising how easily the chatting becomes when you’re not both clawing your way down each other’s throats, but you push that thought away to focus on your phone again. Once your account is created you snap a picture of the Park gates for your very first post.

The tickets are already purchased. Libby had taken care of that, making sure that you both had the cute matching bands that Dieter had rolled his eyes over. He fishes them out of his pocket and hands you one. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Disney Soulmate the bands proclaim, and it’s clear in an instant that the inspiration for this trip is his ambassadorship for Mate Marks, as their logo is also on the band. Libby is nothing if not efficient. “Where to first?”

Dieter shrugs once the two of you are in the park. It’s still early, the park just opened, and he looks around. “I’m not picky. Although I will want a drink somewhere.” Even though he’s been given strict orders not to get drunk at Disney, he needs a little alcohol.

“God yes.” You laugh when he looks surprised. “What? Auntie likes to get her day drink on, and Disney supposedly does good cocktails.”

He chuckles, surprised that you are so easy with this, and nods towards the interior of the park. You are still right at the gates and people are flooding past you. “Let’s go drink around Disney then.”

The Star Wars campus is first stop, since Steph said you would love it and it’s listed as the longest wait in the park. The longer you put it off today, the line will just keep growing, and even if the lightsabers are crazy expensive you still want to gaze longingly at all the little fake kyber crystals in the souvenir shops.

“God, do I want a Jedi Mind Trick or an Outer Rim?” He waggles his brows, unable to stop the dirty thought that prevails as he looks up at the menu to order a drink. He was getting one in his hand as soon as possible. “Vodka or Tequila?”

“You strike me as more of a tequila guy.” It’s the image he’s cultivated, but you catch yourself sounding accidentally judgmental and bite your lip. Do better. “We’re supposed to be doing cute couple shit, right? Let’s get one of each.”

Dieter is surprised and looks over at you with a raised brow. “Are you sure? I thought for sure you were going to order a Fuzzy Tauntaun.” He jokes, shooting you a grin to remind you that he’s messing with you.

“I’ve never been a big fan of drinks that can be described as fuzzy,” you admit honestly. “But…yeah. Might as well try both?” If it were a third date with anyone else, sharing some drinks or generally being publicly affectionate with the person you’re out with would be no big deal.

“Okay, but if you don’t like them, we’ll get you something else.” Dieter doesn’t want you to drink something because he bought and you hate it. The bartender comes over and Dieter leans against the counter, ordering the drinks.

"You have to really work to get me to hate a cocktail." Leaning with your back to the bar, you can watch all the excited families bustling around as they eagerly start their days. It's a typically gorgeous July morning in Southern California and really, there are a hell of a lot worse places you could be today.

“Anything you want to ride or do you just want to browse, right now?” He asks, glancing over at you before he watches the bartender start making the drinks.

"Does Smuggler's Run sound like any fun to you?" Without any real clue what he would enjoy, you're kind of shooting in the dark. But the Millennium Falcon is a classic for a reason.

“Sure.” He thanks the bartender and signs the slip, adding a generous tip before he holds up the drinks. “Wanna take a picture of them?” He asks with a smirk.

"Full documentation of Disney day drinking?" After all, Libby never said you couldn't socially lubricate today. If it helps you both laugh and smile for the cameras and the onlookers, then that's what you'll do. "But we should probably post pictures of food at some point today, too. Just for safety's sake." After all - all of this is for his image.

“I’m getting one of those Disney apples.” Dieter declares, nodding his head as he takes a sip of the Jedi Mind Trick. “Oh shit…that’s fucking good.”

"Let's do this." Distracted by the throngs of tourists, you don't even think about what you're saying when you put your hand out to ask for the other drink. "Rim me."

“Really?” Dieter grins, winking at you before he hands you the drink. His flirty nature would never let him leave that comment laying there untouched. “I didn’t figure you would be into that kind of thing.” He huffs. “We could get kicked out, you know? Family friendly place and all.”

"What are you—?" It takes you a second to figure out what he's talking about and you pull a face immediately. "No, no no, nope, not at all what I meant!" He knows that of course, and the smirk on his face is normally one that would set you off. But in the spirit of the day you point a finger at him and take a long sip of the drink colorfully named Outer Rim before shaking your head. "I would have to be very drunk to even consider that. And the answer would still probably be no."

“Figured.” Dieter takes another sip of his drink, not wanting to start a fight by teasing you. This morning has gone fairly well, and he wants to keep whatever piece he can.

"Not that I'm not adventurous." You're too stubborn for your own good, you've been told that multiple times by multiple people. And right now you're somehow competing with the image he's conjured of you and you just impulsively jump to defend yourself. "It's just somebody's mouth I don't want there. That's all."

“I get it.” Dieter gives a small shrug like it’s not that big of a deal. “You like that what you like, you don’t like what you don’t like.” He’s never been one to push sexual ideas on people that he’s been with. He’s happy with just plain sex if that’s what he can get.

"Right." He's not engaging today, and maybe that's his own version of trying to tone down the temper that seems to constantly flare between you, so you just nod and take another little sip of the drink before offering it to him to try. "It's good. Sounds like they both are."

He switches glasses with you and takes a sip of the Outer Rim. “Hmmm.” He pulls back to look at it and then back at you. “Pretty damn good.” He offers. “Which one do you like best?” Whichever one, he will let you keep it and take the other.

"Ironically, I think I like the Outer Rim better." They're both excellent, but you offer him back the one he liked better with a smile. "Do you want to get in line after we finish these?"

“We can drink them in line.” He tells you, having learned that when he was here for the opening weekend a few years ago.

"Perfect." Pushing away from the bar, you pause for a second before offering him your hand. He doesn't have to take it, that's fine. But the whole day today is extremely public and it's supposed to end with a staged kiss...and if you can't even get through a little pda then having to kiss him even for a quick peck is going to be actual torture.

Dieter doesn’t know what has happened, but he likes this version of you. He takes your hand and looks over. “I’ll apologize if my hands get sweaty. It happens a lot and I hate it.” He explains.

"I usually have paint or glitter on my hands, so I'll barely notice." The luxury of spending the summer buried in art and craft supplies with Nora hasn't been lost on you, but it has definitely led to you being a bit messier than usual around the house.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t normally deal with glitter unless it was high off his ass at a club, but he gets the paint. “So. What’s next after Smuggler’s Run?”

“You’ve been here before.” The two of you slip into line behind a group of teenagers with your drinks still in hand. “What do you like to do?” The last thing you want is for him to get bored and cranky because this is actually not a train wreck so far. Granted you’ve been here for less than an hour, but it’s still a big step in a good direction.

“Honestly, I walk around a lot.” He tells you. “It’s been a while since I’ve come. Last time was when this place opened.” He looks around and ignores the stares from a few people around the two of you. He knew it would probably happen; it always does.

“Let’s just walk around then.” You shrug a little, seeing a bunch of little kids with their parents starting to stare at him. He’s a movie star, it happens, but it does make you a little uncomfortable. Him too, from the look on his face, so you just keep talking. “I’ve never been here at all, so let’s just wander and see what happens. Just find rides and drinks as we stumble upon them.”

“That sounds good to me.” Dieter drains the rest of his drink and as you shuffle forward in the line, he tosses it in the bin that is there for convenience. He spots a little kid pointing at him and screeching, making him turn to you quickly. “Just go with it, okay?” He asks, not clarifying what, but needing you to agree as the boy breaks free from his parents and race towards him, screeching happily. “Maaaaaaaaannnnnddddoooooooo!”

“Go with—?” Having barely turned away to toss out your empty cup, you hear the kid before you see him. The happy cry is earsplitting and when you reel around again, Dieter has a boy of about six or seven nearly crying in front of him.

“Mando, Mando! I knew it was you!” The little boy is nearly about to bust he is so excited, and Dieter looks back to see his parents rushing towards him, obviously figuring out that he is not the man who plays the Mandalorian on Disney+. “Hey bud, what’s your name?” He asks, kneeling down and raising a hand to signal to the parents that it was okay. He had expected it at least once while he was here.

“Liam!” He tells Dieter excitedly. The little boy’s eyes are wide with that kind of pure joy that is reserved for little kids and it’s an amazing sight to see.

“Hey Liam.” He grins at the kid and his dad rushes up.

“Liam, that’s not—”

His father starts to break the kid’s heart and Dieter doesn’t want that. “Mando’s undercover today, Liam.” He tells the young boy with a wink. “You think you can keep it a secret for me?” He looks around and crooks his finger to have the little boy lean in. “I’m looking for a bounty.” He confides quietly.

“A bad guy?” Little Liam’s eyes open wide and you can’t help but smile. Standing behind Dieter, you have one hand barely covering your mouth to stifle a little soft laughter and more than a little surprise. He’s actually pretty good with kids, if this little boy and Nora are any indication.

“I am.” Liam’s parents relax, smiling slightly when they realize Dieter isn’t going to scold him or burst his bubble. “It’s why I don’t have my armor on.” He tells him confidentially. “Too noticeable.”

Liam looks around like a secret agent scouting a crowded room before he asks, in a very concerned tone: “Do you need help?”

Dieter thinks for a second and nods seriously. “I could use another set of eyes.” He tells him. “I’m looking for a Wookie. You know what they look like?” He asks the starry-eyed boy.

“Like Chewbacca!” He’s excited but his voice is an adorable stage whisper as he nods eagerly.

“Who?” Dieter tilts his head, remembering that Mando hadn’t met Chewy in canon. “This Wookie has black fur. If you see him, you find me, okay?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small little coin that he had meant to give Nora. It’s one of the credits they had passed out on opening day. “For your trouble.”

“Okay!” Liam breathes out in awe, carefully taking the coin from Dieter’s palm before sprinting back to his parents at full speed. “Dad! Look! Mom, Mom!”

Standing up, he turns and grins at you. “I’ll have to text him and tell him I got another one.”

“That happens a lot?” You motion vaguely in the direction of the retreating child fully aware that the look of shock hasn’t wiped off your face just yet.

“Only for the last couple of years.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “People seem to think I look like Pedro. The guy who plays Mando. Personally, I don’t see it, but they insist.” He tells you, looking slightly bewildered that anyone would think he looks like anyone but himself.

“Huh.” Tilting your head a little, you try to imagine the bulky armor the Star Wars character wears over Dieter’s t-shirt and shorts. It’s…not so far off, actually. “I can kinda see it.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “God, don’t tell me you’ll start believing it. I’ll get him over to stand beside me and you’ll see how different we look.”

“You’re right.” Rolling your eyes back at him, it’s all you can do to keep the smile on your face and not get annoyed with him. “He’s much better looking.”

That makes him send you a hurt pout and huff, turning back towards the line. Muttering under his breath and huffs the words “armor” and “uniform kink”.

There’s no way in hell that you’re going to tell him that that’s correct, and luckily the conversation is wiped away by a couple of fraternity bros who ask for a selfie with Dieter in line a few minutes later. Dieter poses with them, reminding himself that this is a part of being famous. Even if he hates that part. When he turns back to you, he rolls his eyes slightly and huffs. “I need a better disguise.” He jokes.

“We can get you decked out in some Disney gear like me.” He would hate that, and you chuckle at the image. “You would look like every other tourist.”

He rolls his eyes and quickly shakes his head. “But I will take a Hawaiian shirt.” He quips.

“Your souvenir for the day.” Finally at the front of the line, the park employees usher the two of you into the ride along with the Frat boys that had just been in front of you. The virtue of the day, according to Libby, is that on the rides you don’t have to talk much. And while things are going okay today you don’t particularly want to test the limits of what you’re both willing to put up with.

The ride is fun. Dieter likes rides, if he’s honest. What’s not to like about them? They remind him of the small fairs that would come around every year when he was a kid. He laughs and plays along with everyone else until it’s over and you are filing off so others can enjoy it.

The day has a leisurely rhythm to if, punctuated by moments of small annoyance or heavy eye rolling, but when you make it to midafternoon without tearing each other’s throats out you really do have to consider the whole thing a success. Apparently, it’s a lot easier to get along with a little booze involved, who would have figured? According to Libby’s Law - the new name you’ve made up for the list of instructions for every date that Libby has issued you both - the last two mandatory activities are dinner and that visit to the castle.

There have been plenty more autograph seekers and even one more little kid mistaking his identity - but the one that catches you completely off guard is when you and Dieter are staring at a map of the park deciding where to eat and someone comes up to you. Being splashed all over gossip websites was the thing you were dreading almost more than anything else and here is some random teenage— oh god…that’s one of your students… “Please be nice,” you beg quietly, knowing he could take the opportunity to be totally inappropriate and rude if he wanted to be. He’s done it before but this one would be truly upsetting for you. Your students mean the world to you after Nora.

He wants to say something snarky, but he reminds himself that you have been gracious when fans have come up to him. Although it’s probably that you were relieved that you could have a few minutes away from him where you didn’t have to pretend to like him. He watches the kid come up, nervous and obviously harboring a crush on his art teacher, beaming at you as he comes up and hugs you.

You manage to chat with your student for a minute or two before he brings up the obvious elephant in the proverbial room. “So, it’s true, huh?” JJ asks, hands stuffed in his sagging jeans as he nods to the man a few feet in back of you. “Nobody believed it, but Corinne had a big party at her house to watch the Adele concert live and we saw…well I mean it’s none of my business but it was just surprising, that’s all.”

Dieter perks up slightly, amused at the way this kid is towering over you and looks like he can pack away an entire food cart and still be hungry, but he’s nearly blushing. “You must be one of her art students.” Dieter offers, stepping up and offering the kid his hand, just to see how he reacts. “Dieter.”

“JJ.” The wall of a teenager straightens up and shakes his hand with a tiny bit more force than is necessary.

“JJ took my photography class last semester.” And has just confirmed your worst professional nightmare about this whole publicity stunt. That all of your students are watching it unfold. Good luck trying to keep their respect when you become a talk show punchline.

“Signed up for two semesters of painting for next year.” He tells you proudly. “Senior year’s gonna be on the court or at an easel.”

“Oh, I bet.” Dieter hums, shaking his hand slightly after getting it back. Kid had a handshake on him, although his rings being crushed into his fingers didn’t help. His eyes light up. “Photography, you said?”

“Got an A on my final.” JJ tells him with that kind of confidence that only comes with not realizing how little grades matter once you’re out of school.

“So you could take a decent photo for us.” He doesn’t ask, he’s more challenging the kid to say no.

“Way better than decent.” The teen’s chest puffs up proudly.

“Perfect.” Dieter grins and swings around towards you. “My phone or yours? Although I want a copy regardless.” He winks at you and tucks his tongue in his cheek.

It takes a second for all the pieces to click into place: why he’s suddenly so interested in photography, where you’re currently standing, and the fact that it’s obvious to anyone with a bare minimum knowledge of social cues that this particular student has had an adolescent crush on you since his sophomore year. Dieters going to have him take the picture. Have your student bear witness to the thing live and in person. This is going to get blown so out of proportion with your students… “Yours.” You mumble finally, knowing that it’s going to happen no matter what. There’s nothing to do but grit your teeth and bear it.

“Great!” Dieter is practically exuberant as he pulls out his phone and selects the camera. “Now I wouldn’t start looking through it if I were you….” He pauses and grins. “Or maybe I would, but you definitely shouldn’t.” He teases as he shoves the phone into the boy’s hand and rushes over to you. “We want a magical photo of us kissing in front of the castle. Got it?”

Poor JJ’s face practically drops off his head it falls so much, but he nods dutifully and moves to line up a shot that will catch the two of you and the castle but not the three other couples currently trying to get the same type of photo. “Ready when you are, Miss.”

“Cruel.” You mumble under your breath, knowing Dieter is perfectly aware of what he’s doing.

“Life lesson.” Dieter hums back, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you closer. “Do you want to do the cute little leg pop thing?” He asks playfully, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. He’s thinking of this as a scene, knowing you don’t want to do this, but it’s needed.

“Well you’re not dipping me.” It’s one of those sensations that makes your stomach drop like you’re going to be sick for no apparent reason and you definitely don’t need that right now. “So, fine…leg pop I guess.”

He wets his lips, knowing they are dry and he doesn’t want this to be bad. You already don’t like him, and he’d hate to give you another reason to stack the deck against him. Wanting the next three dates to at least be tolerable before you part ways, never to speak again. “Ready?” He murmurs quietly, still not comfortable with the idea of just taking. He can be an asshole, and a bit of a whore – but it’s all consensual.

The question gets a soft exhale from you, a note of surprise that he would even ask. It’s good - obviously - that he asks. You just weren’t expecting it. “Yeah,” you barely nod, knowing that you’re supposed to look at least happy if not excited to be kissing him. After all, according to the gossip sites, you’re a very happy couple. “Ready.”

Dieter slides his hand around your neck, his hand framing the lower portion of your jaw just like they’ve all been taught for the romantic movies. Apparently, women swoon at that. Leaning in, the kiss starts soft, just the tiniest pressure of his lips against yours until his own small sound of surprise makes him delve a little deeper.

Eyes closed. Don’t clench your jaw. Try to look happy. At this point you’re wondering if they shouldn’t have given you acting classes as part of this contract, but you did just enough in high school drama club to know where to put your hands and how to turn your head to make a kiss look good. It’s the fact that it feels good that shocks you. From practically not touching at all, you feel like you’re being drawn in - the hand you had on his arm drifts to his chest as he presses in a little harder and you’re wondering what the fuck trick of the universe is going on because your whole tree body is lighting up with…with actual pleasure? There’s no way in hell that you’re actually enjoying this kiss, right? Right? You’re not enjoying this, and you definitely didn’t just make a sound. Nope. Not at all.

He groans quietly when you give out a soft sigh, his restraint barely keeping him from sliding his tongue into your mouth. Family friendly, he reminds himself, wanting nothing more than to hear that little sound again. To see what other sounds you would make. It feels like the kiss lasts forever, even though it’s probably less than thirty seconds. Thirty seconds for his entire body to flip and not just his stomach.

“Okay, uh…got it.” JJ’s voice barely breaks through the fog clouding your mind right before you shift to pull Dieter closer, having totally forgotten where you are and what is going on. You practically jump backward, separating yourself from the man currently wrapped around you with much more shock in your reaction than distaste. “Th-thanks.” You manage to mumble, not realizing that you’ve actually put your fingers to your lips like you’re testing to see if they’re feeling things properly.

His own shock humming through his system, Dieter takes a moment before turning to the student. “Uh – yeah.” He shakes off the stupor and walks over to him. “Thanks.” He takes the phone. “Buy you a drink or something?” He asks him, wanting to do something since he had basically demanded a favor.

“Nah, I—uh—I got get back.” The boy points in the direction of the friends he came with, and you realize that a half dozen other students from your school just witnessed that unbelievable display of whatever that was. All you can do is say a polite goodbye and hope like crazy that they’re too weirded out to tell literally everyone they know about seeing their art teacher nearly make out with Dieter Bravo.

He doesn’t look at you, barely able to send you the pictures, several of them. No fucking clue what the hell just happened; he looks around desperately, everywhere but at you. “Need to get squirt something.” He latches on to his promise like a life preserver.

“Toy Story.” You mumble automatically, now firmly unable to even look in his direction let alone actually at him. “She loves Jessie.”

Off like a shot, he’s not even glancing behind him to see if you are following. Totally bewildered by what the fuck just happened, his sneakers slap against the pavement and his ringed finger shove into the curls peeking out underneath his hat as he freaks out slightly.

It takes you a second before you realize he’s completely dusted you, but you’re still too hazy to be upset about it. Pulling out your phone as you hightail it after him toward the nearest shop, you’re tapping out a text as fast as you can and let it still be coherent.

To Stephy: We need to fucking TALK when I get home. Tequila talk, not wine.

Going into the store, Dieter makes a beeline for the Toy Story stuff. “The cowgirl…she likes the cowgirl.” He reminds himself.

Not thirty seconds later, as Dieter is handing his credit card to the cashier behind the counter, you are busting into the shop with a nearly frantic expression on your face. “I need you to take me home,” you tell him immediately, hands running over your arms with repetitive nervous energy. If you had driven yourself you would have already taken off and just called him from the highway to explain.

“What?” Dieter frowns, immediately thinking it’s about the kiss, but he sees your distraught face. “What’s wrong?”

“Steph had to bring Nora to the hospital.” Despite the number of times your little warrior of a niece has been in the emergency room, it never ceases to terrify you. In the beginning it had brought on panic attacks that you had to hide from Steph, and you’re feeling like one might be brewing now. “They gave her something at daycare that made her sick and she’s—she’s still…” You scrub both hands down your face and breathe deeply to stave off anxious tears. “She’s in a lot of pain and the doctors aren’t having any luck stopping it.”

______

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My Masterlist!

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Fixing A Problem

Owned Sinfully Sweet Oneshot

Summary- 2.8k Mob Boss Ari Levinson x Reader/ Bucky Barnes x "Your Friend/Steve and Bucky's Girl"x Steve Rogers. Ari and You were invited to an evening at Steve and Bucky's estate. After an easy going evening, you and Ari are made aware of exactly why the invitation was extended.

Warnings- Oral Sex, mentions of drugs, alcohol, working women and assault. No heavy detail of the last two.

A/N- This is the result of jumping into a writing challenge with the prompts Ari Levinson/ Mob AU/ "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?". What a wonderful challenge @secretswiftymarvelfan, thank you so much for the fun prompts. You can find Niamh's challenge Here and I suggest you all take a look and help celebrate.

Owned Sinfully Sweet Masterlist

“Oh god Ari.” You cried in the back of his vehicle, a hand braced against the vehicles velvet plush ceiling as you rocked your hips faster against the demanding man underneath, your movements hurried from you needing to come and from Ari’s large hands gripping your red ass cheeks to pull you harsher on his face. 

“That’s right Sweetheart, who owns this sweet pussy?” His tongue, wide as it slipped through your sensitive folds before he flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit, making you try to pull away cause it was to much, but he kept you there with little effort. 

Again and again he teased the oversensitive nerve. Making you wriggle on his face, his beard rubbing your shaking inner thighs till they burned and would stay raw rest of the night. You knew he wanted an answer as thick fingers kept plunging in your tight channel while he licked your essence that escaped from you. If you didn’t answer, it would mean denied orgasms and you couldn’t handle that. Not tonight. Your body felt wrung out, ready to collapse but he growled possessively under you, vividly blue eyes burning in enough of the vehicle's interior light to blaze up at you from between your thighs squeezing his head. 

You can do it, you can. Even as he is sucking on your clit and using enough teeth to sting in the most pleasured of ways while he expertly curls his long fingers inside of you, bringing you closer to the edge, hovering you there while you begged him, pleaded him with your moans and nonsensical cries, but couldn’t form the words he wanted. Ari knew just how to put you at the edge. 

Your free hand weaved into his golden brown hair, a crown for your king that you could tug on while you bucked on his face, finally able to pull yourself together to cry out his name. “Ari! Fuck it’s always you Ari. Please…” You sobbed as you pushed down, your hips undulate once more against his face. 

You were sure Jake in the front seat has had enough of listening to the two of you on the drive here, although he would never remark on anything about what happened between you and and his boss. You chanced a look down at Ari, seeing if he was feeling generous or was he going to be cruel to you tonight? You hoped he was giving tonight.

Still possessive looking, but Ari softened in his gaze. His touch turned just right for you now, no longer was he holding you back from the edge. When you recalled the moment later tonight when Ari was finishing up the last of his business and you would be in bed writing in your journal, you would describe it as Ari pushing you off a cliff to crash into pleasure. 

A strong arm circled your jerking hips and another hand shot up the center of your quivering body to catch his hand around your throat with the slightest squeeze, holding you up while you floated in your own little world for a moment, gasping for more sex filled air to fill your burning lungs. Your back pressed back against cool black glass barrier shutting off the front seating from you two. 

Ari’s grip loosened once you unweaved your fingers from pulling on his hair, allowing you to shift enough so he could push up in the seat, leaving you straddling his jean clad lap and loping your arms around his neck, a sated smile on your mouth. “What was that for?” 

Ari smirked a bit, his gaze drifing out to the rather expensive looking establishment they were parked in front of. “Before we went inside for our evening with Rogers and Barnes, I needed to have you cry out my name.” 

You scoffed, lightly hitting your hand against his broad chest, making the gold chain he always wore bounce from the force but he just chuckled at your scowl, watching you almost shyly glance out at the brightly lit up mansion. “The windows in here were cracked, do you think they heard us?” 

Ari fixed part of your dress while you worked on straightening your makeup once again, shaking his head. “No Love, it was all for me.” He assured you while cupping your face in his hands. “I just like hearing you feel fucking good.” 

You shook your head in exasperation as you straightened the collar of his relaxed button up shirt. “You’re such a softy.” 

“Only for you.” He winked while opening the door and stepping out. His hand reached back in to take yours and ease you out. “We shouldn’t be to long Jake, just wait for us.” Ari directed his man. Jake gave a tip of his head, eyes darting from Ari to you. “Careful Boss.” He simply said while pulling the vehicle away to park nearby.

Ari noted where Jake parked, just in case and then led you towards the house. Just as you two were going up the marble stairs, Ari swung you to face him, still a cocky grin on his face as he pressed his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. For a second you fought him, but his persistent kiss and press of his tongue made you open to him, clutching at his shirt to pull yourself up to your tip toes. Ari was hungry, feral, whenever he took you out, he couldn’t stop touching you. You could taste yourself on him, enhancing the ache low in your body even though you two just finished a few minutes ago. Your body started rubbing against his as he continued to devour you.

There was a feminine giggle at the door that made you pull away from Ari to face your hosts, now opened to a tall blonde hair man with a trimmed beard and crisp white shirt with his sleeves half rolled up muscled forearms, looking relaxed but still formidable. A coiled predator feigning rest. From his side a woman appeared, her smile bright on her face aimed at the two of you with the most welcoming usher to come inside. “Sorry to interrupt Ari! It has been forever since we’ve seen you at the club.” She danced forward to hug him, easy going as the man with her was as relaxed as ever, happily watching her greet Ari. Ari gave a gentle and respectful hug back, quickly releasing her. Soon all that energy was turned to you. “And who did you bring with you?” 

More formal Introductions were made, you found them easy going and friendly. Although you knew who they were and what they were involved in, didn’t expect such welcoming warm hosts from some of the cities dangerous men heavily involved in the far less then lawful business dealings of the area. Of course the same could be said about Ari, but to meet him you wouldn’t know it from the easy way he came across in public.

Bucky soon joined in, the dark opposite of Steve. He seemed quieter then his partners. A soft smile and easy shake of your hand when he was introduced. Bucky was also dressed casually for an evening in although he spotted stylish black gloves on his hands that were soon directed to touching his girl, the soft supple leather skimming against the bare parts of her skin. 

You and Ari were brought into a living area, plush couches made for large groups of people to lounge on, a coffee table set up with crystal decanters along with what you suspected was some rich decadent brandy, along with baggies of drugs, made to cut and snort, and a box that was propped open with aromatic cigars that even before lit made warmth curl through you at the thought of lighting one. Steve waved his hand over it at the offerings laid out. Ari immediately poured you both some of the liquor. You relished the stinging warmth, just as you suspected, the brandy went down smooth. 

“It’s my favorite too.” Your new friend smiled across the table while Steve poured her a couple shots. Soon the conversation drew all five of you into laughs and storytelling. While you stayed at Ari’s side, content mostly in listening to the rest of them. Steve and Bucky’s partner was exuberant, easily getting lost into the story she would be telling. One of the men did continuously reign in there partner, bringing her back to perch at there sides, having the same possessive air around them like Ari was with you. 

But you could see that she had fun with it, running her fingers along the sides of either of there necks and leaning in to nibble and nuzzle at there ear lobes when the conversation was steered away from her. 

Steve did once lean over, his hushed toned inaudible for anyone else in the room but you noticed the immediate flash interest in her eyes and the way her teeth nipped at her bottom lip while Bucky possessively held a gloved hand against the inside of her thigh, squeezing in tandem to Steve’s whispers. 

You hid a smile against Ari’s shoulder, only imagining what they had in store for the woman of the house. You felt Ari shift next to you, a press of his lips at the crown of your head let you know he too was grinning, dipping his head enough to whisper in your ear. “She will be in trouble after we leave, she is baiting them.” 

You hummed an agreement in response, turning back to the conversation at hand. Ari’s touch rested against your back, easing you in close to his side. 

“So Ari…” Steve started while Bucky looked over his shoulder waving a hand to someone out of sight. “We heard you were looking for a certain piece of shit causing trouble for you. We happen to be too… He stole from us.” Steve’s tone darkened and your friend clicked a disapproving tone from her deep red lips as the doors open. She whipped right back around to face you, a grin on her face when a stranger joined the group. An arrogant asshole from the way he strode in, openly admiring as if he was entitled to whatever this house had to offer. 

You felt Ari stiffen next to you, his touch turning harsh as he gripped you. You worriedly glanced up at the way his jaw set and his eyes narrowed as this new man wandered in, who somehow didn’t at all pick up on the predator like energy in the room. Whomever he was, Ari knew him, his presence infuriating him.

“Well nice set up Barnes. When you invited me here I didn’t know we were having ourselves a fun little party. Coke, hookers…” His gaze leered over you first. “Better looking then the ones I’ve been picking up on the south side.” Ari tensing once more at your side. But he completely ignored Ari, must be unaware of who he was although Ari seemed to know him. You could feel the clenching of Ari’s hands, one moving to your thigh like he was laying claim to you. You gave this unknown man a bored look, leaning into Ari’s side. 

Your new friend though, she grinned widely, twisting to face him. Barnes quietly slipped up and away. Steve merely lounged back in the couch, pulling out a cigar and lighting it up. 

“How much they paying you? Couple grand to be here?” He asked out loud. You ignored him, focusing your attention back to Ari, your hand slipping along the inner seam of his jeans to rest your hand on his thigh, making yourself comfortable against him. 

With Ari, you never had to worry about anyone trying to touch you. 

“Oh more then that Sugar.” Steve and Bucky’s girl said, confident as she got up off the couch where the three of them had been lounging, her hand trailing along Steves arm till her fingers brushed against his palm, a slight pass between them happened as Steve slipped something into her hand. She went around the couch to stand in front of the man, practically purring at him. Steve had a amused look on his face as her hand went up the strangers chest, rolls of cigar smoke clouding above his head, making him look sinister as he merely watched the interaction going on. 

You glanced at Ari, who spared a look at you, giving a slight shake of his head. This he wasn’t prepared for, but was willing to watch just to see the outcome. Both of you could see the small dagger in her palm kept hidden from the strangers sight. It was only when he even tried to touch her did she strike, the little blade coming across his fingers to cut sharply across tendons, making the newest guest scream in shock and pain. His other hand raised to strike out at her, Bucky swift from behind him to grasp his wrist, squeezing just right till fragile bones snapped quickly. 

You gasped in the chaos, recoiling against Ari, who was used to this kind of thing, knew that you were not and wrapped a reassuring arm around you. 

“Now Doll, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” Barnes said over the mans shoulder, cocking a brow teasing at her. 

She cocked a shoulder at Barnes. “I wasn’t too worried, you three are ready to kill this prick. I just wanted to help, a teeny tiny bit.” Her features turned cold as she took the knifes tip under his chin, tilting his head back. “Because it’s nothing compared to what’s in store for you fucker. Those were my friends.” 

Your heart ached, if this was the man targeting some of Ari’s workers… they were some of your friends too. Ari’s touch went gentler on you, rubbing his hand soothing against your back although he still vibrated against you agitated. 

“Seriously Rogers, you two could have given me a heads up.” Ari snapped, giving a pointed look at you and Steve’s expression turned apologetic towards you. 

“Forgive me, I wasn’t aware you weren’t involved…” Steve started and you waved your hand to stop him. 

“Ari, is this the asshole that has been hurting the girls?” You questioned and Ari gave a nod, your glance at the stranger now held hostage by the collar of his shirt with Bucky’s assistance made you scowl wickedly. “Make him suffer.” 

Your friend gave an approving nod as she handed the blade to Barnes. His smile was so cold and promising. “Oh we will, why we invited Ari.” 

“Now wait a second guys! I’m not-” the stranger stumbled over his words and Bucky gave him a vicious shake. 

“Shut it, or I’m ripping your tongue out right this second.” The man blanched, the threat and blood loss making him look like he was about to pass out.

“Doll, can you take Y/N to the pool area, show her a good time while we deal with him? If that is okay with you and Ari of course?” Steve questioned.

You swept up to a stand to cup Ari’s face, allowing your hands to run over his beard and lean down enough to place a gentle kiss on his lips, whispering. “I will be fine, take care of business and come get me afterwards.” His hand lifted to cup over yours on his face, returning your kiss affectionately. 

“It won’t be long.” He assured you while you pulled away, hooking your arm with Steve and Bucky’s girl, letting her lead you away. 

“I got plenty of bathing suits in the bath house, or we can just go nude?” 

Walking away Ari heard you laugh, missing your answer. “So shall we gentlemen?” Ari pushed to a stand, rolling up his sleeves just a bit move over his forearms. Steve puffed once more on his cigar before dropping it into the ashtray to get up as well. 

“Lets take him down into the basement, I don’t want the girls seeing the mess we make.” 

The man started pleading for his life then, being dragged to the beautiful ornate door that led down into this houses pit of hell. 

Steve paused Ari before following, inclining his head to where the pool was. “I’m sorry, Buck and I shouldn’t have assumed that you involve your girl as much as we do. It’s not a mistake we will make again. But they do seem to be enjoying each others company.” Steve was sure to point out.

Outside, loud music started playing while you two jumped into the pool. Both Steve and Ari watched out the open doors, each man admiring the scene unfolding among the ugliness of what waited in the basement. “I’ve rarely let Y/N be involved in this side of it. She never wanted a part of it and I never pushed her to be.” Ari said simply. “Yes they are, I’m sure you will see her here more often.” Ari chuckled softly and Steve nodded in agreement. 

“Y/N is welcome anytime, she will be safe here as she is with you.” 

[gretchensinister]

An anon ask also included the word "greet."

Greet

(This is my first foray into what I have been calling the “SkekMal in the Valley AU.” In this AU, UrVa wakes up before SkekMal gets back to the Castle and immediately goes to jump off the cliff. However, in this AU, UrGoh sees him jump. Because of things that will be explored in the full fic (but that UrGoh is not immediately aware of) this leads to both UrVa and SkekMal somehow being transported to the Valley of the Mystics. Aughra finds out about this, is like “you guys need to DO SOMETHING about this maybe you should get the only other pair you know back here to help.” And so SkekGra and UrGoh end up coming back to the Valley.)

~*~

After all the time apart, after rejection, heartache, and tragedy, it all comes back so easily. UrGoh cannot smile yet, but he wishes he could. Fore hands on the sides of the face. His fingers recognize UrSol this way, even as he feels the added spirals and deeper lines. Hind hands on the sides of the neck. The first mystic’s hair other than UrVa’s he has touched in hundreds of trine, and this thought and the thought of UrVa pierce him like twin swords. Fore hands on shoulders. UrSol’s coat is different from the one he remembers. There were probably a few that became quilts between that one and this one. Fore hands and hind hands sliding down arms until all his hands grasp all of UrSol’s, who has mirrored his movements.

What has UrSol learned from their greeting? Nothing that makes him pull away. UrGoh feels curiosity stir under his grief as UrSol holds his hands as if he would be content to do so until the Crystal calls. Even so, UrSol still looks up and behind UrGoh for a moment before he says anything. And this—this does tug at the corners of UrGoh’s lips, though he’s not sure if they manage to lift, yet. Of course he’s there, UrSol. He’s always going to be there, now.

“You look well.” The Chanter’s beautiful voice, another sword. “Very well, indeed.” Another glance up and back. UrSol tilts his head, pauses. “We...I missed you. I only wish you could have returned under happier circumstances.”

“A longed-for greeting...adds at least some grain of happiness,” UrGoh says, and he speaks truth, but who better than he to know how many grains of sand there are in a desert?

UrSol nods. He has still not let go of UrGoh’s hands. “I had thought I would meet you further out. Aughra told us you would not be alone.”

Of course. The Standing Stones and the magical barrier UrTih had created to protect the Valley against skeksis. Now that UrGoh has done much magic himself, he better understands just how much had gone into taking the barrier down to allow SkekGra into the Valley that first time, how much work to put it back up that UrTih and the others had taken on themselves. He didn’t want to re-pick at the knot of wondering if anyone had really been willing to listen, back then, but some, at least, had wanted him in the Valley, even if he had a skeksis with him. The Valley’s love. UrGoh closes his eyes for a moment. That subject is far too complicated to touch right now.

“Was there not enough time to take down the barrier in advance?”

“The nature of the barrier has changed,” UrSol says. “Now, a certain small song serves as the key. You do not know it yet, and—and I hope it will be taught to you during your stay.”

UrGoh nods, even as he wonders if UrSol hesitates because teaching him the key must be a collective decision, or because he’s aware that teaching UrGoh the key is one of those many decisions made in the Valley that are not collective at all.

But then a perverse feeling of lightness flutters in his chest. It doesn’t matter, does it? He presses UrSol’s hands and meets his eyes with as serene an expression as he has ever managed. “I, too, hope I will be trusted with such a key,” he says. “But, I suppose...I should have had other questions about the barrier. As you say…you expected to find SkekGra and I farther out. So, that tells me...we already crossed the barrier without that song. I suppose UrTih will want to know about that...it is very curious.” He shrugs. “Perhaps it is simply that whatever the barrier is meant to keep out, SkekGra and I are not it.”

Another glance back at SkekGra from UrSol. If it wasn’t for the circumstances of their return, UrGoh suspects he would be laughing right now. Where is the barrier, anyway? He’s forgotten the boundary, and even if he could remember he probably wouldn’t have recognized it, since the vegetation in the area would have changed completely over hundreds of trine. He hadn’t felt anything, and SkekGra hadn’t said anything, which meant he hadn’t felt anything either.

“It’s a mystery I can’t speak on right now,” UrSol says. He still hasn’t removed his hands from UrGoh’s.

I’ve been missed, UrGoh thinks, and knows the weight of it will have to hit him soon. Despite everything, I’ve been missed. UrVa always told me I was, but it’s different knowing it with UrSol holding my hands with SkekGra standing close enough to touch either of us.

“Many dreadful events and mysteries have greatly troubled the Valley in the past few unum,” UrSol says, and UrGoh hears the sorrow and even fear in his voice. “Aughra convinced us to ask for your aid in the sake of only one, but I, at least, would welcome your words about the others, after you learn more of them. But for now, let me take you to UrIm, for he is most anxious to speak with you.” Now UrSol lets go of UrGoh’s hands, to turn and lead them into the heart of the Valley.

UrGoh’s own fear and hope bring a pointless question from his mouth. “It is as Aughra said, then?”

“Oh, yes,” UrSol says, looking back. This look, UrGoh thinks, finally encompasses him and SkekGra at the same time. “UrVa and...his other….They appeared just outside the barrier, in the sleep of deep injury. Arrows in the other, arrow wounds on UrVa. UrIm has not managed to wake them, yet. I do not think he, nor any of us, know what to do if they do. But they are alive, and UrIm does not think that they are dying.”

UrGoh leans heavily on his staff and looks up to SkekGra, his face unguarded. This is a mystery, a miracle, but his grief and horror at UrVa’s leap—even if it failed (Song of Thra, how could it have failed?)—do not dissipate. This great and inexplicable gift is assuredly also the first step of a puzzle more complex than the workings of Aughra’s orrery. SkekGra steps closer, puts his hand on UrGoh’s shoulder. And then, with hesitation that surprises UrGoh, he reaches forward, to rest his hand on the back of UrGoh’s neck, his claws tracing over UrGoh’s skin, combing through his hair. UrGoh closes his eyes and, yes, now he can smile, even if it is only a very little smile.

SkekGra lets out a breath like it’s one he’s been holding for days, and UrGoh wishes there were time now for him to comb his hair. It hasn’t stuck in his mind since UrVa vanished, and he never wanted to take it for granted. But they are now in a world that holds more than the two of them, and UrIm wants to see them as soon as he can. And in truth, UrGoh is anxious to see UrVa as well. Aughra has said, UrSol has said, and neither of them would lie, but UrGoh is a creature of hands and always has been. He wants not only to see UrVa but to touch him, to touch the wounds he helped dress and know that this is the same UrVa that UrGoh had been so sure had given himself over to death.

“Tomorrow,” UrGoh murmurs, gently taking SkekGra’s hand away from his hair.

SkekGra gives him a stricken look before nodding sharply and turning forward. UrGoh wonders at that, before he turns forward as well, and realizes that UrSol has seen that whole exchange between them. That must be why SkekGra hesitated. Perhaps it also explains why he has been so silent. This return to the Valley must be even stranger to him than to UrGoh, and he has no history to fall back on. SkekGra will not want to cause difficulties, but it’s not clear to anyone how a skeksis should act in the Valley. They didn’t even discuss it on the way, Aughra’s news and travel by crystal skimmer leaving no room in UrGoh’s mind for anything else.

They will have to talk about it later. This evening, in UrGoh’s cell. He does not intend to expend much effort being discreet in regard to SkekGra and their relationship; he is too sure of its goodness. So for now, let UrSol see what he would and think what he would. Now they must attend to matters far more rightly the focus of worry in the Valley.

[haywire-hetfield]

Masterlist Of Fics

A masterlist of all the fics I have done so far. Any explicit fics will be marked with a *

Angel All In Black (Dave x James)*

Dave knew how to be passive aggressive, he really did. The problem was that there was a massive difference between knowing how to do something and having the ability to actually do it.

But It's The Season Of The Sticks (James x Lars)*

James and Lars didn't anticipate how much would actually change without Dave there.

get him back! (Dave x Lars, James x Lars)*

It wasn't about being attracted to Lars. For Dave, the only thing that mattered was the fact it would piss James off.

The Men You Meet At Night And The Glorious Gift Of Fear (James x Lars)*

Two strangers happen to meet on a dark road in California.

Then In A Year Or Maybe Not Quite (Dave x James)*

"You know how I’m supposed to be going into heat next weekend?” Dave asked after they’d both caught their breath. James gave a small noise of acknowledgment. “Well, I’m not going to go into heat."

Didn't Get The Chance To Feel The World Around Me (Dave x Lars, James x Dave x Lars)*

Dave and Lars encounter an unexpected spectator.

But Your Heart Got Teeth (Dave x James)

When Megadeth opens for Metallica, James decides he needs to talk to their lead singer.

Hold Every Memory As You Go (Duff x Axl x Izzy x Slash x Steven)

Duff looked like a fucked up angel when he finally climbed back into bed. Blonde hair messy and eyeliner smudged, knees bloody and scraped up as he curled close to Slash.

When You Burned Down The House And Home (Dave x James)*

It's just the cycle they go through. They fight, they fuck, they forget.

Kind Of Used To Being Someone You Love (Krist x Dave Grohl)

Dave had always heard the idea that if you were blind, your other senses were automatically better. He wasn’t sure how much he believed it, but he supposed it made sense. When he found himself blindfolded, he started to realize just how much truth the idea had behind it.

Full Speed Or Nothing (James x Lars)*

While staying with James in America, Lars goes into heat.

Say My Name And His In The Same Breath (I Dare You To Say They Taste The Same) (Jason x Lars)

Jason helps a drunken Lars back to his hotel room.

'Cause He Couldn't Help Me With My Mind (James x Jason)*

“Jamie’s in heat,” Lars had warned as soon as Jason walked through the front door, not even giving him time to kick his shoes off first. It had been as though Lars was purposefully waiting for him to get back and Jason realized very quickly he had been. “Go handle it,” Lars encouraged and he didn’t explain further. He didn’t need to. 

You Remind Me How To Fly (James x Cliff)*

“Cliff?” James whispered through the darkness of their bedroom, shaking the sleeping man awake. They were cuddled up in the bed, pressed close together beneath the blankets. Cliff let out a sleepy noise, but one that told James he was awake-ish. “I’m in heat. Help me handle it?” He asked, trying to keep the edge of nervousness out of his voice.

To All The Boys I've Loved (Lars x James, Lars x Ron, Lars x Dave, Lars x Cliff, Lars x Jason, Lars x Kirk)*

Lars reflects on his life and all the men he's potentially loved over the years.

But I Don't Know How Yet (Mick x Izzy)*

After being punched by Vince, Izzy finds some unexpected company with Mick.

I'm No Longer Naive And I Don't Feel As Pure As I Once Did (David x Dave)*

There were many things David expected to do once he got to California. Trying cocaine in Dave Mustaine's apartment was not one of them.

Hey Jude, Don't Carry The World Upon Your Shoulders (James x Cliff)

After spending his last heat with Cliff, the mourning process gets even more complicated for James when he finds out he's pregnant. Now, he must navigate that as well as the death of his best friend.

Hot, Young, And Running Free (Tommy x Nikki)*

When Nikki finally makes his way back to Tommy, his pupils are blown wide and he smells like home.

It's All My Love (Steven x Duff)*

Steven Adler was an unusual beta for many reasons, the most obvious of which was his obsession with breeding his omega.

But They Won't Flower Like They Did Last Spring (David x Dave)

“Let me tell you something about people, Junior. They change all the goddamn time,” Dave said meanderingly as though he carefully considered every word before he uttered it. He brought his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply for a few long seconds before he spoke again. Dave was frowning deeply now, a mixture of bitterness and dejection marring his features. “Or maybe they were just always different from what you thought.”

On An Island In The Sun (Dave x Izzy)*

“I don’t think so. I think it fits you a lot better,” Dave’s voice was steady and low, rubbing his hand up the inside of Izzy’s arm carefully. Izzy still flinched when fingertips brushed over the yellowing bruises in the crook of his arm. “None of these are fresh. How long has it been since you’ve been let off of your leash?” Dave asked him, continuing to try to push Izzy’s buttons. He jerked his arm away from Dave and was relieved when it wasn’t grabbed back. The relief washed away when Dave leaned in close. “I can fix you up,” He whispered to him.

Too Young To Fall In Love (Tommy x Vince)*

While Vince wants Tommy, he quickly finds out Tommy is thinking about someone else. He decides he can work with that.

One Of Those Horrible Little Children (Alice Cooper x Dave, Dave x Jason)*

Dave returns home on Halloween night with a fun story to tell Alice. (Based loosely off of Headbangers Ball 1989)

Can You Make It Feel Like Home If I Tell You You're Mine? (James x Lars)*

Lars knew he shouldn't get involved with James, not when he was still so desperately missing Dave, but he'd never made the best decisions. And maybe he could make James want him more if he just held on a bit longer.

the word "tragic" means a lot to me (James x Izzy)

James thinks that if anyone in the world will understand what he's going through, it's Izzy.

Take Off All My Blues (James x Lars, Tommy x Nikki, Steven x Duff, Dave x Axl, Kirk x Lars)*

A collection of fics I've done based off of dialogue prompts.

Every Claim You Stake (James x Lars, Lars x Izzy, James x Lars x Izzy)*

Finally living in a different country, Lars must navigate the tricky world of love.

Pitching Myself As Leads In Other People's Dreams (Tommy x Nikki)*

“Excuse me?” Nikki snapped, whipping around to face him. Vince looked confused more than anything and he could hear Mick snorting out a laugh somewhere beside them. Tommy could feel his own cheeks heating up, embarrassed by the entire situation. “You don’t talk to me like that,” Tommy decided against arguing with Nikki and pushing it.

Enter Sandman (Dave x James)*

It wasn't the first time James couldn't tell if he was asleep or awake, but it was definitely the first time this had happened.

Strawberry Wine (Tommy x Nikki)*

Mick had always possessed a talent to know when something was wrong. Usually, this meant just always assuming something was wrong and being right occasionally. This time, he was sure of it, though. 

It's The Best Thing That I'll Ever Do (I Get To Love You) (Tommy x Nikki)*

It hit Tommy suddenly that all of this was for him. Only he got to see Nikki like this these days. Every inch of his skin, every noise he made, every mole and blemish on his skin. All of this was reserved just for Tommy now. 

I Think You're Changing, You Don't Gotta Stay The Same (Jason x James)

It started small. The first time Jason noticed anything was going on, they were all gathered around and looking at old pictures.

Hand Of Gold That Lays Waste To My Love (Dave x James)*

Dave had never been like other boys, but James supposed he wasn't really like other boys either.

A Makeshift Gauge Of How Much To Give And How Much To Take (Jason x Lars)*

Lars wasn't a kind person anymore. He was once-a long time ago-before the world changed around him. Everyone else could see it, so why did Jason have such a hard time understanding it?

You Said My Heart Has Changed And You Had Not (James x Dave)*

Over the span of decades, James and Dave share five separate experiences.

Your Worst Kept Secret (James x Dave x Lars)*

The premise of the movie was interesting enough, but James couldn’t bring himself to focus on it. All he could focus on was Lars and Dave next to him on the couch. He was doing his best to pretend he didn’t notice them, but it was rather difficult to ignore his husband making out with someone else. 

Oh, You're A Loaded Gun (Tracii x Izzy)*

Their lips had met clumsily, using too much tongue and teeth, but neither seemed to mind. Izzy’s hands sank deep into Tracii’s soft hair and Tracii’s own touched every part of Izzy he could reach.

Where Is Your Boy Tonight? (I Hope He Is A Gentleman) (Kirk x Dave)*

On the way to his hotel, Kirk had offered his hand to Dave to hold which Dave had simply ignored. He didn’t want sweet or gentle with Kirk and he was going to make sure Kirk knew that.

And When It Comes To Love (Izzy x James)*

Izzy let out a quiet noise, appearing to think for a minute before he leaned across the table and held his cigarette out to James. He got the idea of what Izzy was suggesting pretty quickly and he swallowed the anxiousness about the situation that was rising in his throat. Instead, he took the cigarette and decided to give it a try. Izzy’s eyes were focused on him the entire time, watching like a hawk.

And I Pay For My Place By The Ring (Dave x Ron)*

Ron considered this for a moment, silent and staring at the poster-covered wall across from him. He wasn’t totally against it. Dave was attractive enough, although a bit abrasive, and it had been a while since Ron had done things like this. He missed it in a way and he found himself nodding. 

Angel Hair And Baby's Breath (Jimmy x Robert)*

Jimmy didn’t need this very often. He had a fairly happy marriage and he usually managed fine, living the normal and pleasant life he knew he should. Every once in a while, he grew restless and there were certain things he needed when he felt that restlessness settling into his bones. 

The Spaces Between (James x Lars)*

Normally, he’d be embarrassed by the idea of anyone listening to him or watching him get off, but that feeling wasn’t present now. All he could focus on was how good Lars felt, how good he was making Lars feel in return, both of them chasing the same goal. 

Confidants But Never Friends (David x Dave)*

Dave knew his emotions got out of hand sometimes. Usually, they were at their worst when he’d been drinking. He was hypersensitive to seemingly everything and his already short fuse was matched with reduced decision making skills. It was a nasty mix and he didn’t envy anyone who had to deal with it. But the problem was he was completely sober in David’s bed.

Kiss The Back Of Your Teeth (Cliff x Lars)*

"Why don't we skip the condom this time?"

No Other Version Of Me I Would Pretend To Be Tonight (Steven x Lars)*

“You look so fucking hot,” Steven’s words made Lars laugh, sharp and sudden as he looked at him from the foot of the bed. They were so direct and Steven had a grin on his face that Lars couldn’t describe as anything other than boyish. It was bright and lopsided, showing too many teeth. 

I Feel So A Star Is Born (Tommy Lee x Steven Adler)*

Steven’s body seemed to be weightless, floating on air, as he laid in the hotel bed with Tommy. He was hooked on this sort of feeling.

Bleeding Me Dry Like A Goddamn Vampire (Kirk x Lars)*

Kirk knew it was dangerous to bite Lars; he knew once he started, he wouldn't want to stop.

Two Lovers Entwined (Phil Lewis x Brent Muscat)*

“If I'm so pretty then why am I not in your bed yet?” Phil asked, catching Brent a bit off guard. The sudden bluntness of the question made him laugh.

I'm Such A Good Good Boy (Vince x Tommy)*

Sometimes, there were things they needed that only the other could give them.

Burn With Me (James x Lars)*

James’ admission hadn’t really surprised Lars. Considering the way he was raised, Lars knew he had a weird relationship with sex growing up and he was still working to unlearn it. Even today, he had moments where he viewed sex as something shameful or perverse. He’d also had a hard time making friends during his younger years. Adding them both together, Lars understood how it had never happened.