#excellent chapter had me squealing

[princington]

“…the work in the garden had been grueling. Tilling soil takes time and effort and muscles of which Beatrice has hardly formed. For once, the words of encouragement from Ava did very little to bolster her spirits.

Cheering, after all, didn’t help dig the dirt. Not that Beatrice begrudges Ava, not at all. In fact, Beatrice might have quit her job if Ava had not been there to cheer her on.”

A Bit of Earth Ch 5: The Promise by @whatwordsmiss

[strawberrysnoopy]

ACT ONE: The Photo-shoot, Part Two

prologue, part one

warnings: basic stuff (infidelity, mentions of sex and masturbation, ada slander, yadda, yadda), i also don't know how an er really works so..., brief mention of disordered eating habits but not an eating disorder (if that makes sense), foreshadowing (in the same chapter), almost sex but not yet sugar, blah blah, blah. I also can't write fight scenes so whatever. Also I promise that this will be the last dinner party esque scene in a while lol.

tags: @heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat thank you anons for your submissions and helping motivate me to continue this series!

Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little. "How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form. "Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. Leon wouldn't really consider himself a lonely man. He had friends to bide his time with when Ada was gone doing a mission. Your husband was one of those people, and of course, by instinct: the invite of friendship was gracefully extended to you. However, Leon would really hate to admit that you're the better in maintaining the friendship than your husband ever was. You were the one to start inviting him over for dinner when Ada was gone because you knew he'd probably put some half-assed attempt in feeding himself everyday. Not that he didn't know how to cook (he was quite an excellent one, in fact), he felt that it was kind of pointless if you ate when there wasn't someone to share the meal with.

Tonight was one of those nights for him. You texted him earlier this afternoon, offering him dinner and the company of friends. He could practically hear your soft voice from over the phone: the kindness you radiated with your mere presence lighting him up like the Fourth of July. Of course he had to accept your invitation, it's not like he had plans: other than sitting in his boxers, drinking and stare at the ceiling while he laid in bed. You were rather quick to trot over to the door when Leon came knocking. There was a stupid grin plastered on your face and with the way your eyes looked at him with a bright, glimmering shine glazing over them. "Leon!" You squeal, capturing him into your arms and swaying him back and forth. A low and rumbly chuckle escaped his throat while he hugged you, arms finding their home around your waist. Your husband's off somewhere in the house, if you had to guess accurately: by the fridge, contemplating how plastered he was planning on getting tonight in the shortest amount of time. Perhaps he'd go a little slower tonight, but you don't have much hope in him with the fact Leon's there. It might encourage him. Who knows.

"I appreciate you having me over tonight. So nice of you to make sure I'm never lonely." Among other things. But he's not squealing too soon. Your eyes longingly rake over his body, and god, the gall of this man to not appear in your life sooner and sweep you off of your feet. Noticing he's wearing something different, he smiles at you and pinches your cheek, muttering the same nickname he always called you.

Silly Girl.

God, fuck this man to the highest degree, you curse to yourself. And his attire?! Oh fuck him. You tried not to notice his attire. It was that of a somewhat dorky husband. Perhaps that’s what attracted Ada, perhaps that’s what made her hate him so much. Regardless, you loved the somewhat silly outfit on him of a gray sweatshirt he’s had since police academy, the lip of his boxers visible from above his jeans if he stretched his arms up (maybe bless your eyes and existence with the token appearance of his happy trail), and some semi-baggy jeans with his beat up shoes. He was a handsome man, and he seemed to know it. Yet, he still had enough a heart to be humble. Dinner was served quickly, everyone taking their seats at the table. Leon had praised you on your cooking skills with words (and a hand patting your thigh under the table. Hot.) The conversation was light-hearted, cheerful, but most of all, refreshing. The table had even gotten to the topic of firsts: obviously dancing over the first time any one of you had sex but you had a sneaky feeling your tipsy turning drunk husband would bring it up. "So, who was your first kiss, Leon?" You asked, taking a bite of the braised rib on your plate (that you worked your ass off on, might we add) while your head slowly turned over to meet his gaze. "Some girl in like...4th grade. She kissed me first. I don't even remember her name." You laugh, jokingly raising your hand to signal you were the same. "Anyone after that?" Leon shakes his head. "Just some college girls and Ada." The table falls silent, the sound of forks scraping against the plate and quiet chewing beginning to get on your nerves due to the fact nobody was speaking. "And after that?" Your husband chimes in and you realize you would rather just have the sounds of chewing and forks scraping than having him say something stupid. Leon shakes his head, assuming whatever your husband was trying to imply was a joke, but you knew better and you had a feeling he knew better as well. "Oh, come on, Leon. You're telling me you haven't at least kissed another woman after marrying Ada." He fights back an eye roll. You laugh. "Can't say I have." "No? Seriously. That's what makes relationship so healthy. Just a once in a while business trip where you're drowning in pussy." Your mouth dried. Blink and you'd miss it, Leon's cool facade cracks and shatters, a scowl overtaking his face. "Well. I'll have to think about that sometime." You look at him, noticing that he was threatening to say something. Something ballsy. Something that might, quite literally, have your soaked panties flung across the room. The look in your eyes was daring him to say it. The fucked part of you wanted to hear it.

"What if someone fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" And just like that, you're on fire. Of course you found it hot. Because his best friend, who is not supposed to have any romantic feelings towards his friend's wife mind you, was actually standing up for you. "The fuck you just say to me?" Leon gets up from his seat with a death glare that could kill any man but oh lord, you? You're fucking living for this. "You heard me. What if I fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" Your eyes widen, head snapping over to Leon. Oh, he wanted to fuck you? He wanted to fuck you? Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit! Within minutes, your husband tackles Leon and tries punching him but if you think he's winning this fight, you are sorely mistaken. Leon was a government agent and in seconds, he's on top of Ezra beating the lights out of him. After the shock (let's be honest here, giddiness) passes, you pull Leon off of your husband, mumbling to him to calm down. You were surprised when he had apologized and asked to take your husband to the emergency room.

Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little.

"How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form.

"Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. "I'm sorry." He murmured to you, referencing the least important elephant in the room. "About him...cheating on you. If it's any consolation, I'm sure he's not—" You interrupt him.

"He is. It's nothing I don't already know." He nodded, finally taking your hand in his own and running his calloused thumb across the soft and vastly explored top half of your hand. Your husband cheated on you. Something you had dreaded for so long when you first met him but now the fact was spoken into the air just felt like...relief. Like you didn't have to play the guessing game anymore. You weren't acting in a role of a dumb, clueless housewife bobbling around with her mouth and legs open if your husband so chose to have mercy on your needs and finally have mediocre sex with you. "And I also want to apologize for what I said. About fucking you. I wouldn't actually do that to you, yeah? I was just pissed he said that stuff to you." You both know it's bullshit. You both know he wants to fuck. You both know he sleeps with Ada wishing it was you. You pat his arm. "It's okay." A nurse arrives into the waiting room, clipboard totted on her side and a much too relieved poker face gracing her features. "Your husband is alright. We admitted him for a few days to monitor his status, make sure nothing odd pops up. Just needed a few stitches and painkillers so he should be fine." The both of you took that as a cue to take off for the night. Although Leon had been wondering if you'd even visit him in the hospital after the whole cheating confession thing, probably not. Getting up from your seats, Leon takes you by the hand and walks you out to your car. The night air was a soothing chill against your skin, the warmth of Leon's palm bursting through the layers of cold your body temperature had managed to build up. "If you ever decide to....y'know...divorce him. You can always stay with us for a bit while you get back on your feet." His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you like you had lost something very special to you. Which you had: your husband. But that was long ago and the admission was a long time coming: the band-aid had been ripped off of your skin and the pain had subsided. "Thank you." You whisper. He nods. His eyes flicker down to your lips, hand moving from the side of your cold arm to your cheek. His thumb caresses your bottom lip and moving dangerously close to the inside of your mouth. In his eyes, they're zoned out, almost like he's reminiscing of Ada. But you're not Ada. You're you. And that's what has him writhing with lustful agony. But the problem was that there was still a woman he was betrothed to and as much as he hated it, he had a duty to be loyal to her. He hadn't ever broken that loyalty to her and he's not starting anytime soon. With a sigh, he pulls away from you. "I'll see you around, yeah?" He doesn't even let you respond before he awkwardly pats your arm and leaves you alone in the hospital parking lot, leaving you wanting for more. "...Bye." You mumble, getting into your own car to drive home. But on the ride home, Leon's left you wondering. Wondering what would happen if he had just thrown caution to the wind and kissed you. But he was right. You were both married. The most tragic thing of all being that it's not to each-other.

[cowyolks]

TAVISH’S FIC RECS

A collection of works that read like literature that I recommend to readers.

SERIES

He Who Comes from under the Water @itsagrimm

A stunningly diverse read that is simply unique and undeniably breathtaking. The series dives into Eastern European and Slavic culture and folklore, illustrating König to be a Vodyanoy. Along with the easy to read material, Grimm adds interesting research and citations at the end of every chapter. (König x AFAB! Reader)

Bleeding Blue @nsharks

A beautiful realistic series that takes place in a “zombie” apocalypse. The reader is found by Ghost and his daughter, Blue. Blue is such a well written original character, sometimes I catch myself reading other fics and I’m like “where’s Blue?” All the relationships and scenarios are so well thought out. Twix, as the reader is nicknamed, finds herself bonding with the two of them. This is such an excellent slow burn and a must read. (Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB! Reader)

Hold your Face Away from the Light @fr0ntier

My god how can this get steamier? Fr0ntier is such a talented gremlin. This two part series is a Cowboy/Western Au that illustrates Ghost as the embodiment of revenge. It’s so unique it’s hard to describe, but be prepared to cry, from tears to between your legs. (Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB! Reader)

The Little Things @halfmoth-halfman

This series is so unique because it is written in Soap’s point of view. I love this series so much because it’s little signs of affection that just make me swoon. I love how Mothie portrayed Ghost and how he subtly loves on the Reader. Excellent! (Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB! Reader)

ONE-SHOTS

Laughing Poets @halcyone-of-the-sea

God, anything that @halcyone-of-the-sea writes is pure gold. So make sure you check out their masterlist! But this fic captivated me because it’s so well written. Even the battle scenes make it feel like you’re there. The reader goes through so much pain and torture and you can really feel Keegan’s silent pain and anguish to save the reader. It’s absolutely amazing and full of little tweaks that make you squeal in fluffiness. (Keegan Russ x AFAB! Reader)

Everything that Lives is Gone to Waste @day0walker

Is there ever a bad time to talk to Elliot about stinky men? GOD, this fic is so hot it’ll make you evaporate, you can’t just put König in a ghillie suit and expect me not to simp. The way he’s described in this fic is just so fuckin’ hot. A superb read that gets you hot and bothered. (König x AFAB!Reader)

Foolish Antics and Antique Evenings @fr0ntier

Ring, Ring, Ring! This is by far the most beautiful written Soap fic in this entire app (in my humble opinion). It’s so lightheartedly steamy. The Spit Wizard once again nailed Soap’s personality to a T. He’s hilariously hot in this fic, stupidly so. I recommend to anyone in need of a hot pick-me-up. (John “Soap” MacTavish x AFAB! Reader)

Her Whole Entire John Price Masterlist @yeyinde

I knew I had to include Lev’s fics in my recommendations, but it was too hard to choose only one fic. She’s essentially the queen of all things Captain John Price. All of her works are steamy and read like poetry. I recommend Past and Pending and Underdressed. (Captain John Price x AFAB! Reader)

Woe to the Deer who is Courted by the Wolf @toshidou

One of the hottest things I ever read. I’m extremely inclined to reading vampire AUs. The fact that it is so predator/prey like is so gorgeous. I love the way König is written in this, details are superior and have you holding your breath the whole time. (Vampire! König x AFAB! Reader)

Truth or Dare @soapyghost

Talking about steamy hold-your-breath smut? This is it folks. An excellent one-shot that describes the readers horrible sex life, until Price comes along and fixes that. It’s refreshing to read him as such a mature partner, and as always gets me hot and bothered. (John Price x AFAB! Reader)

ART

No one ever recommends art blogs so I want to be one of the first.

@egg-ball stunning! Everything that they create is steamy and makes me go “wow!”

@timhex Gorgeous Art!

@appleciderp Always go to Apple’s blog for a good laugh at their many GhostSoap panels.

@bluegiragi all of their art is amazingly hot. I like how they illustrate König. And their recent works of all the boys as monsters…. Whew!

More to be added!

[weemssapphic]

Hi lovely! Got so excited when I saw your requests was open again, your writing is so addicting 😍

I’ve had this idea since I saw a post with a gif of Larissa holding a teaching pen and I can’t stop thinking about it.

What if Larissa was actually teaching anatomy one day at the school you being the assistant teacher for that specific class and at the same time you being secretly in a relationship with her. So as she teaches the class you become more and more turned on, while she talks about the body not being able to control yourself. Ending up having to take Larissa to her private rooms, saying “teach me anatomy” and Larissa be like “didn’t you pay any attention to me earlier” while getting you to “learn anatomy” on her body. Larissa receiving/reader giving, real smutty and hot! Kinks are more than welcome too, hope it makes sense! x if you won’t, it’s totally okay ❤️

Hello ❤️ thank you so much for the compliment and for the request - I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this (I wasn't very happy with my first draft and I'm super against posting something I hate). But I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏼

Teach Me

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Words: ~3.3k

Content/warnings: nsfw (smut) - choking, authority kink, praise kink, hair pulling, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, strap-on use

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Good morning, class! I’ll be taking over this week’s lessons until Ms. Hanson is back from her sick leave. Today we’ll be going over last week’s exam, and then if we have time we’ll start chapter 8. Any questions?” Met with a brief silence, Larissa continued. “Excellent. Let’s start, shall we?”

Larissa nodded over at you, a small sign for you as the assistant teacher to make your way down the rows of desks and hand the students back their graded tests. Some of them groaned, some squealed in delight - once you’d finished your task, you made your way back to the front of the room, making eye contact with Larissa as you did so. You found her watching you with a faint smirk and a quirked eyebrow.

God, she was so hot when she did that. The smirk painted on those luscious red lips started a small flame in your abdomen - the blue eyes that bore into your own held just a smidge of teasing amusement as you visibly shivered. Larissa knew just what she was doing to you, she always did - her eyes briefly flicked down your body, drinking in your form, and you felt yourself flush.

The two of you had been in a relationship for several months now, choosing to keep it a secret from your students and most of your coworkers for the sake of professionalism. It was normally an easy secret to keep as, apart from staff meetings, your professional interactions were limited to none - especially in front of the students. Today, however, Larissa was taking over the class you normally assisted for, which was equally delightful and a little nerve-wracking.

Larissa was a force to be reckoned with. You’d seen her address the entire school plenty of times as principal, but there was something about seeing her take control of a classroom that was unbelievably arousing. She spoke with such passion, making sure to involve the students and encourage them - somehow, she managed to create a collaborative environment where even the shyest of students felt comfortable enough to speak up.

You couldn’t help but think that, if you’d had a teacher like her when you were younger, maybe you’d have learned a thing or two in anatomy class - perhaps even enjoyed the subject.

Or maybe not, you reasoned, as your eyes fell to Larissa’s backside, perfectly displayed in her form-fitting dress, when she leaned over her desk to rifle through a stack of papers. Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single damned word.

And as anticipated, as the lesson progressed, you found it harder and harder to concentrate. You tried, you really did - keeping your eyes mostly on the students or on your notes, rather than on Larissa, trying to soak up every word that was being said in case your assistance was needed. This proved more difficult than you thought it would, as even Larissa’s voice, authoritative yet soft, served to get you worked up. But you were almost successful - until Larissa found that she had just enough time left in the lesson to start chapter 8 and reached into the drawer of her desk to pull out a pointer.

You watched, mesmerized, as she extended it and walked up to the blackboard. If anyone were to ask you what was drawn up there, you wouldn’t have been able to say, even though you’d prepared the lesson yourself due to Ms. Hanson’s absence - your mind went blank as your eyes were glued to Larissa’s hands. Long, red-tipped fingers gripped the pointer firmly, flexing around the little stick. Her other hand waved around animatedly as she spoke.

You squeezed your thighs together, growing more uncomfortable by the second as the dampness between your legs grew. You’d always loved how she spoke with her hands - right now, you couldn’t help but ponder what else she could be doing with them. How those long fingers could reach deep inside of you, curling against your-

The shrill sound of the bell ripped you from your trance, signaling the end of the lesson. Students began to rise, gathering at the door to shuffle out of the classroom and to the cafeteria for lunch. You swallowed hard, your eyes finding Larissa at her desk as she packed away her laptop and some papers.

You were on your feet the second the last student had closed the door behind themselves, taking long strides towards Larissa’s desk. She raised her head and smiled at you.

“Darling, I-”

Your lips met hers in a desperate, sloppy kiss, a needy moan clawing its way out of your throat. Larissa let out a chuckle as you deepened the kiss, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks as she pulled back.

“What was that for?” she asked playfully, humor dancing in her eyes. “Not that I’m complaining…” Her lips curled up into a smirk.

“That was for how hot you look teaching.” Your breaths came out in ragged puffs as you captured her lips once again. This time, Larissa let out a soft moan, fisting the front of your shirt and pulling you closer.

“We have a few hours until the next class… Everyone else is at lunch,” you mumbled against her lips.

“And what would you like to do with all that free time?” Larissa’s voice was low and raspy - it only served to turn you on further.

“You could teach me anatomy?”

“Were you not paying attention earlier?” Larissa teased.

“Nope,” you murmured. “I think I need a private tutor.”

“And you’re certain I’m not too distracting?” she purred.

“Rissa…” It came out whinier than you intended, but that didn’t appear to matter much: Larissa grinned against your lips, pressing one final kiss to them before allowing you to drag her through empty corridors all the way to her private quarters.

Larissa had you pinned against the door the second it closed behind you. Her hips pushed into yours as she clicked the lock, and then her hands were on either side of your head, trapping you against the oak as her lips found your neck. She sucked at your pulse point, her teeth grazing over the sensitive skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell me, darling,” she purred, her voice dropping an octave, her warm breath washing over your ear. “What do you remember from today’s lesson?”

Your breathing stuttered in your chest - if it had been hard to think before, well, now it was simply impossible. All you could focus on was how Larissa loomed over you, her body pressed against yours, her lips on your ear. The heat at the apex of your thighs was becoming unbearable.

“I-I don’t know… just- your hands,” you stuttered out sheepishly - that really was all you remembered, Larissa’s fingers flexing as she spoke, how they-

“Funny,” she whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. You felt your knees begin to give out - if Larissa hadn’t been pressing you to the door, you might’ve collapsed on the spot. “I don’t remember that being a topic in today’s lesson. Perhaps it’s better we start with the basics then, hmm?”

Before you could come up with a suitable reply, you felt Larissa’s hand close around your throat, her fingers applying gentle but firm pressure, flexing against your sensitive skin. You met her gaze to see blown pupils gazing hungrily down at you, painted lips pulled into a seductive smirk.

“Think you can be a good girl for me?” Larissa’s eyes were hooded as she looked down at you, applying just a little more pressure to the sides of your neck. You nodded fervently, not trusting yourself to speak, and Larissa grinned.

She let go of your throat, ignoring your whimper of disappointment, and turned to stroll nonchalantly towards the bedroom. “Give me 2 minutes, then you can come,” she called airily as she disappeared into the hallway.

They felt like the longest two minutes of your life. When they were over, you headed after her, your spine tingling with excitement. You walked into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed in her bra and panties, legs parted - her heels had been kicked off, her dress discarded.

“Larissa…”

“Now, is that how you think you should address a teacher?” Larissa raised an eyebrow, lips turned into a disapproving frown.

“Uh… Principal Weems?” Your face felt hot with embarrassment, but then Larissa grinned and let out a pleased hum and you found yourself growing hot for an entirely different reason.

She spread her legs and your eyes fell to the damp spot at the center of her panties. You felt your mouth go dry and you took a few steps forward, until you were standing between her legs. She made no move to touch you - she simply watched you with an amused grin plastered on her face.

“Why don’t you show me what you know, darling? My body is at your disposal…”

You didn’t need to be told twice - you lunged forward, planting a sloppy kiss to Larissa’s lips as your hands began to trail down her body, finding the clasp of her bra and quickly undoing it. You slid the straps down her arms and dropped the garment onto the floor, focusing your attention on her now exposed chest. Your lips trailed down her skin until they found one of her breasts, and you began to litter the soft mound of flesh in little kisses and bites.

“Take my nipple into your mouth and suck,” Larissa instructed, her voice slightly breathy but still firm and commanding. You did as you were told, sucking on the small, rosy bud and feeling it harden under your tongue. “You may bite - gently.” You grazed your teeth over her nipple before biting down, feeling Larissa arch into you and hearing her sharp intake of breath.

“Good girl, now the other one.” The heat between your legs grew as Larissa commanded you, and you mirrored your actions on her other breast.

You left a trail of kisses down Larissa’s stomach - the soft swell of which was so tantalizing that, with a cautious glance up at the blonde, you sunk your teeth into her flesh, biting down gently. A strangled gasp escaped Larissa’s throat and she looked down at you in amusement.

“Getting a bit bolder now, are we?” she teased, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks went pink. “I’m not stopping you, darling.” With her permission, you spent a few more minutes loving on her stomach and hips, biting and sucking, then soothing the little marks you left with a gentle lick of your tongue.

Soon, Larissa began to squirm beneath you, giving your head a gentle push. You settled between her plush thighs then, taking a moment to give them the same reverent treatment as Larissa let out quiet sounds of pleasure.

You pressed a soft kiss to Larissa’s cunt through her underwear, before pulling the garment down her legs to reveal her dripping sex.

The scent of Larissa’s arousal hung heavy in the air, she was already so wet for you - you licked your way up her slit, taking a second to worship her folds before finally circling your tongue around her swollen clit. 

“Fuck, Riss, you taste amazing,” you groaned. You felt Larissa’s hand on the back of your head, then a sharp tug at your hair. Larissa looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I-I’m sorry, Principal Weems,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl,” Larissa purred. The hand holding your hair loosened its grip and you resumed your ministrations against her clit, flicking your tongue over it in little kitten licks.

Larissa arched her back off the bed and rolled her hips against your face. Ironically, considering the lesson, you knew her body well by now - you knew she wanted you inside of her. Happy to comply, you began to tease her entrance with your fingertip, earning yourself a breathy whine from the blonde.

“Enough teasing,” she murmured, and you slipped one digit into her hole, slowly pumping it in and out, before adding a second. Her walls stretched around your fingers and she let out a soft hum. 

“Such a good student,” she teased, her voice breathy. “Quick learner.” You could almost hear the smirk in her voice, and it only served to turn you on further - you were certain your underwear was ruined.

Your fingers found a steady rhythm inside of her, curling into the soft, spongy spot that had her writhing beneath you. Using your other hand to hold Larissa’s thigh and steady yourself, you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked, letting out a wanton groan as you felt her begin to tremble.

Larissa came undone beneath you, letting out a drawn-out moan as her hips bucked erratically against your face. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm, until she stilled beneath you and allowed herself to sink into the mattress. 

You crawled up Larissa’s body, settling on top of her and pressing a bruising kiss to her lips which she immediately deepend with a low groan as she licked her arousal off your tongue. 

“Principal Weems?” you mumbled against her lips. She hummed in response. “You said I could do anything, right?”

Larissa grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a sharp yank, the pain sending a shiver all the way down to your toes. Her painted lips were pulled into a devilish smirk and her eyes sparkled with curiosity. 

“And what exactly are you proposing, darling?”

You bit your lower lip, blushing as you reached for the drawer of Larissa’s beside table - her smirk widened and she rested her head back against the pillow, watching you intently. 

You pulled out the harness and dildo that rested in the drawer, your blush deepening as Larissa hummed her approval. She never took your eyes off you as you tugged the harness over your hips, tightening the straps and securing the fake cock in place.

Larissa squirmed impatiently on the bed, already spreading her legs for you. You could see how wet she was and your own clit ached at the sight. Larissa reached out for your hips and you caught her wrists, pushing forward and pinning her arms over her head.

Larissa’s pupils widened at the action, a gasp escaping her lips, her hips squirming.

You reached back into the drawer with the hand that wasn’t holding Larissa’s arms in place and pulled out a burgundy silk tie, dangling it in front of her face. She grinned up at you, giving you her best, innocent doe eyes.

“Go ahead, darling, I’m waiting,” she teased. You tied Larissa’s wrists to the headboard, making sure it was tight enough to hold her but loose enough so it wouldn’t hurt.

“That okay?”

After giving her wrists an experimental tug, Larissa nodded in confirmation. You pressed a searing kiss to her lips, before trailing kisses down her body, caressing her bare hips with your hands. You stopped at her inner thighs, taking a few moments to worship them with kitten licks and litter them in little bruises until you felt Larissa squirm desperately beneath you. The low whine that she let out was so delicious that you groaned into her pussy, and she bucked her hips up impatiently.

You placed a hand on either one of her thighs, spreading her legs open for you. She bent them at the knee and titled her hips up eagerly.

“So pretty,” you groaned as you zeroed in on her dripping cunt, taking the fake cock in your hand and teasing her hole before sliding easily inside of her. Larissa’s lips parted to let out a gasp and she squeezed her eyes shut as she got used to the sensation of being stretched out. 

When she opened her eyes again, she gave you a nod and gently bucked her hips. You began to thrust the cock in and out of her, finding a slow and steady pace at which to fuck her.

Leaning over her, you continued your rhythmic thrusting as you wrapped your mouth around her nipple, flicking your tongue over it as your other hand began to fondle the soft swell of her breast.

Each flick of your tongue and thrust of your hips drew an even filthier moan from Larissa’s lips as she rolled her hips against you. Looking up at her through your lashes as you sucked on her breast, you could see her wiggling her arms against the restraints. She gazed hungrily down at you, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted sensually. 

“Kiss me,” Larissa demanded, and though you didn’t think she was in a position to be making demands, you couldn’t resist - you wanted to kiss her so bad, so you did. Your mouth left her nipple in favor of pressing a bruising kiss to her mouth, which she immediately deepened with a breathy sigh. 

Your tongues danced around each other, Larissa’s breathing hot and heavy. You swallowed her soft moans and low grunts as you reached deeper and deeper inside of her, tilting your hips in the way you knew would bring her the most pleasure.

Her thighs began to tremble against your hips and she arched her back off the bed, her front pressing insistently into you - her skin was warm and slick with sweat.

One orgasm turned into two, turned into three, until Larissa wrapped her legs around your hips to pull you flush against her.

“I-I c-can’t…” she murmured breathlessly. “P-please…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You caressed her cheek lovingly before pushing yourself up and carefully sliding the dildo out of her. Before removing the harness and tossing it to the ground, you undid the tie around Larissa’s wrists, placing a gentle kiss to each wrist before allowing her to drop her hands to her sides.

You crawled up the bed next to Larissa and snuggled against her, your own breathing almost as labored as hers. 

“Was that okay, love?” you asked, pressing a kiss to her flushed cheek. You could feel her nod against you, a small smile playing upon her lips.

“Mmmh, thank you, darling,” she murmured.

You reached over her to check your phone - you still had an hour before your next class.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.” Larissa hummed in response and you went to fetch a warm, damp washcloth and a glass of water, which Larissa drank as you cleaned up traces of her arousal from between her legs. Then you snuggled up next to her and allowed yourself to fall into a light sleep, her arm slung loosely around your waist.

The sound of your phone’s alarm 40 minutes later had you groaning and burrowing your head deeper into the crook of Larissa’s neck.

“Do we have to teach today? Can’t we just cancel the classes and stay here?” You gave Larissa your best puppy-dog eyes and biggest pout, but you knew as soon as she chuckled and kissed your forehead that your pleading wouldn’t work.

“After how much work you put in to prepare everything?” Larissa teased, and you rolled your eyes and huffed. “Tell you what.” Her voice dropped an octave and she moved her mouth to your ear - you had to clench your thighs together in response. “If you’re a good girl this afternoon, then I’ll show you what I know tonight.” You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning as Larissa’s breath washed over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps on your neck. With that motivation, you allowed yourself to be ushered out of bed and dressed yourself for your afternoon classes - only now, the ache between your thighs was even worse than it had been that morning. How you were going to survive the rest of your classes and be a good girl, you had no idea.

x

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[kelcemenow]

Touchdown - Chapter 6.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1271

Warnings It's hotting up, but nothing crazy!

CHAPTER 5.

CHAPTER 6.

The rest of the game was a bit of a blur. During half time you were tasked, with Hannah, to get some fan reaction videos to ultimately be included in a montage of the game. Travis was far from your mind; you had a job to do and you were determined on making sure you impressed the station. As the game drew closer to the final quarter, the Chiefs were up by 13 points and you were excited to get back down to the field to speak to people. After all, this was the reason you wanted to be a journalist. 

Hannah turned to you, “Do you want to do an interview? Maybe you can clinch one with Kelce?”   

You twisted your mouth, “Oh, I don’t know. You’re much better at it than I am.”   

“Shut up, you’ll nail it!” She patted you on the back, “Besides, Travis is comfortable with you, you know, he’s done an interview with you before.”   

You placed a firm hand on Hannah's shoulder as realisation hit you, “Hang on, he doesn’t actually know it’s me.”   

“What do you mean?”   

Your eyes glanced to one side whilst you thought, “Well, he knows my name, like, he knows I work for the station. But he doesn’t know it’s me that’s here now.” You giggled to yourself.   

Hannah reciprocated your laughter, “Oh, this is excellent! You have to interview him!”   

You pressed your lips together, “This is going to be fun!”   

“Ladies?” Richard called from the far side of the box, “Time to go, go and get some words from the teams.”   

“Sure!” Hannah responded, running a hand through her hair. She turned to you with a smile, “Let’s go!” 

As you paced through the stadium, you could feel your heart beating in your ears. You weren’t sure whether it was nerves or excitement, or both.    

The game had ended with a field goal by the Seahawks closing the gap by 3 points, but securing the win for the Chiefs. The fans were elated, red flags were waving across the stadium and music was ringing in your ears. The grass was soon full of people; photographers taking pictures, news stations grasping at interviews and sound bites for radio. You felt more confident and comfortable with the atmosphere this time though, locking eye contact with various players and coaches, giving them a big smile and a short congratulatory message.    

You gave Hannah your phone and leaned towards her, “Let’s find Travis.”   

“I like the confidence!” She exclaimed.   

You made sure your press pass was facing the right way and quickly wiped underneath your eyes to make sure no make-up had smeared underneath your bottom lashes. You licked your lips and adjusted your skirt, making sure you looked presentable. You could see Travis through a crowd of people; he was excitably mid-way through an interview when he caught your gaze and smiled. He looked down towards the floor and shuffled his feet against the grass. He finished his conversation quickly and shook the hand of the interviewer. Before you knew it, he was making his way to you, with his eyes firmly locked on yours. You could faintly hear Hannah squealing behind you.   

“What’s up? You enjoy the show?” He looked even bigger than earlier that day. His shoulder pads doubled the size of his already broad shoulders and his arms were bulging out at the sides with thick muscle.   

As you opened your mouth to speak, Hannah quickly jumped in, “Hey, Travis! Could we get a quick interview with you?”   

“Sure, no problem.” He flashed you a slightly confused smile and stood closer to you, his firm arm pressing into you. 

Hannah held the phone up and nodded to signal that she was rolling.   

You took a deep breath and looked down the lens, “Hi guys, Y/N here with The NFL Show for ITV and I’m joined here by Chiefs star tight-end Travis Kelce. Just a few quick words, if you can, to describe the feeling here at Wembley?”   

You looked up at Travis to see his mouth slightly open with a smirk and his eyes squinted with realisation. He brought up his right hand to stroke his beard before laughing quietly, a gentle pinkish hue spreading to his cheeks, “Oh man, it’s been awesome here in London, as it always is.” He spoke loudly and confidently, “The atmosphere is incredible and the people are great. We’re just happy we could bring the energy and bring home a win. Victory Monday, baby!” He held his hand up and brought it around your shoulder, leaning towards the camera, “And make sure y’all watch The NFL Show!” He gave a loud cheer, squeezing you closer. 

You giggled and looked back to the camera, “Thank you Travis Kelce, have fun celebrating your win!”   

Travis gave another cheer as Hannah moved the iPhone down, “Great, thank you! That was great, Travis!”   

“You’re welcome.” He smiled towards Hannah before immediately turning back to you, “You coming to celebrate with us?” His deep American accent made you feel warm.  

Hannah stepped back slowly with wide eyes to give you some time. Travis licked his lips and took some slow deep breaths. He was still buzzed with the win and the game in general.  

You were taken aback slightly. “Well, that’s a lovely offer but I don’t know what my schedule is looking like for the rest of the day, you know, with work and everything- “  

“Oh, come on, girl! Don’t make me beg!” He moved in closer, “You owe me!”  

“I owe you?” You leaned back slightly which only made him pull you in.  

“This game you’re playing! That interview over the phone, not replying to my email, then coming here and not telling me it was you.”  

“I’m a professional, Mr Kelce. I didn’t think it was a big deal.” You shrugged your shoulders and looked away.  

Travis gave a deep laugh and tilted his head to try to catch your gaze, “I thought I told you not to call me that.”  

You looked back up at him.  

He held his hands up and stepped back, “Alright, alright. I already got one win today, and I’m a man who can accept defeat. Hope you enjoy the rest of your day, ma’am.” He winked and disappeared back into the crowd.  

The moment he was out of eyesight, you almost felt like your legs were going to collapse. You looked up to see Hannah running towards you with her mouth open and her arms out stretched.  

“Oh my God, you were like…so close. I swear he was going to kiss you, or something! What did he say? What did you say? What’s going on?”  

“Which question would you like answering first?”  

Hannah thought for a second, “What did he say?”   

“Um, he asked if I wanted to come and celebrate with him.”  

Hannah almost dropped to the floor, you looked around to make sure no one was looking, but they were too busy to notice.  

“Will you calm down, please?”   

“Me calm down? Why won’t you calm…up?” She pulled a face at the phrase as she said it.  

“Because I don’t even think I’m going.”  

Hannah hit you in the arm, “Are you joking? What is wrong with you?”  

You gently rubbed the area she had just hit, mocking pain, “I’m here for work. We are here for work.” You said slowly.  

“Were…we were.” Hannah smiled, “Richard just caught me and said we are now officially off the clock until Tuesday. So…?”  

You rolled your eyes, “Well, this has all worked out perfectly, hasn’t it?”  

______________________________________________________________

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[anakinskywalker97]

5 - The Rise of Skywalker

Vader x Ex-Padawan reader - Chapter 5 - Meditation

Previous parts

Summary: Vader finds out the true extent to how much damage his body endured after mustafar, meditation leads him to an old friend.

Thanks for all the love on this series! Reblogs and comments are what keep me going! <3

Warnings: panic attack description, hurt/comfort

No one would be that stupid. 

Vader wasn’t sure what you meant until he saw it with his own eyes. People had a very healthy respect for you, especially the Rebels and their alliances. You had a reputation, one he didn't realize belonged to you. He had heard of the Shadow Tempest many times. The epic runs, always one step ahead of the Empire. The pilot behind almost all the notable Rebel wins. In all his time with you he always did most of the piloting, he knew there were a million things to do and sort out but more than anything he wanted to take you out and see who would win. 

He sat there in a meeting of people, the higher-ups of the revolution, and watched as they listened to you. You never asked for anything, simply told them that he was on your side now and that he needed the best medical. In return, they would have your help in defeating the Empire. They were very eager to have your support, apparently up until this it was very hard to persuade you into helping them. Something he would ask more questions about as from what he was told your ship had been center stage in most Rebel wins. He was surprised that help from you and Obi-Wan was enough for them to overlook his past. 

Obi-Wan let out a tense laugh as they handed him a bank card. Apparently, all his money was in his account and had been converted over to card technology despite his leaving.  He could go run off and be a murdering psychopath then come home and find out how much interest he had earned off his funds. This wasn't right. He didn't deserve this. People had to accept him at your request, but he could feel the way they trembled in his presence. Fear gripped people tightly and he could even feel their concern for you. Even without being able to read their thoughts, he knew their plans to pull you aside to see if you had stockholm syndrome or if he had possessed you. He guessed that was a good thing, people here cared about you. Everyone stopped what they were doing to greet you, relief that you were safe overwhelming their features, it was good to know it wasn’t skin deep. People really cared. 

He was unsure about the Rebel's plans for the Empire though. But then again he was retiring from this world. He would kill the Sith, try to come back from being one, restore balance to the universe, and hide away with you - hopefully forever. 

Ahsoka had not been pleasant, but she came around for the sake of ending the Empire. He hoped in time he could mend things with her. She had been your closest friend and he missed how easily she fit into the family that was formed during the Clone Wars. A family he had to put back together. 

R2 was beyond happy to see him. He ran around him squealing loudly. Everyone looked horrified but he bent down and put his arms around the droid. Affection towards R2 was easy. He was the most dependable thing in his life for the longest time. He was well-maintained but still looked like he was an active participant in the war. He thought of all the lore that surrounded the Shadow Tempest, more than anything he wanted to pull R2’s memory and watch every bit of footage he had saved. He would come back for it another time. 

“I kept her safe” R2 chirped loudly in his language and he laughed again patting the little droid on what would be considered his head. 

“Thank you, you did an excellent job R2.”  He was grateful he left something behind to help you in his absence even if it was unintentional. 

Then the medical meetings started. Once he saw all his options, he was overwhelmed. From the stem cells they had of his on file, they could re-grow most of his skin to cover the prosthetics. They would have to remove more of his arms and legs as the nerves had been permanently and purposely damaged where they met the metal prosthetics. The rest of his skin could be healed with minor scaring, they could even regrow his hair follicles. 

After looking at the scans and seeing the damage Palpatine did he had to leave. 

He had no idea what he gave up that day on Mustafar. 

He lost the woman he wanted to marry, the ability to give her a nice life, to touch her without hurting her, to touch her and feel her skin. Not to mention the horrible things he had said to you at the end lived rent-free in your mind all these years.  He had given up the one person in the world he considered family, he had tried to kill his brother. All of this was to build something better for them. Yet he spent years trying to kill Obi-Wan, terrified of his old master. The sickness was too much to contain as it all came flooding back to him. 

Let me go - he commanded you as he left the building. It was cruel but he was drowning in pain. He was so consumed with rage and self-hate he left to go to the temple where Obi-Wan had been going to meditate. 

He knew the only true way out was through. He couldn't go on a rampage, couldn't give into weakness. He couldn't lose you again. 

Palpatine had made him suffer to prevent him from his full potential. To keep him from his density. Just as the Jedi had done. Everyone wanted to hold him down, force him to comply, just like Watto. He had been so caught up in thinking he deserved the pain, which in his opinion he still did. Palpatine gave him the illusion of control and freedom. That power was so seductive but what had it gotten him? The lives he took ran through his mind at a speed that made him dizzy. Nausea gripped him as the familiar coldness ran up his limbs to settle in his stomach. It was what he imagined death felt like. The icy energy caressed his body, but he had been here too many times before to know he wasn't that lucky. 

It was his punishment, he had earned it fair and square. A lifetime of suffering would never be enough to make up for the lives he took. His mind ran through this for hours as he sat in the temple trying to find peace and clarity. 

He’d done too much, taken too many.

“You did what the Force deemed necessary.” The voice made him jump, not an easy thing to do. The hazy, glowing form of Qui-Gon was in front of him. 

“I -” He started to argue back. 

“You - are the living force. The Sith willed you into existence Anakin, there is a power in you unlike anything else in this Galaxy.” He explained calmly and his heart sank at the realization of his words. 

“I’m evil.” His voice was so broken. A truth he always should have known deep down. There would be no path leading towards the man you wanted, needed, him to be. 

“No, there is no good and evil in the true force, this concept of light and dark comes from the people sensitive to it and how they choose to use it. You are what it is in its true form” 

“Then why is everything inside me so painful.” His voice was wet with the tears streaming down his cheeks. As far back as he can remember that power inside him has always been anger. 

“Because you experienced great pain. You have to understand that your life was always one with the force. The choices you made were ultimately the direction of the force. It wants balance. The Sith and Jedi were flawed ways of doing things, it’s your job to follow this through.” His words brought tremendous relief and a tremendous amount of anxiety at the same time.  

“I failed you.” He whispered. 

“I failed you. Had I been around I fear that things would have been better for you. Obi-Wan was not ready, but that does not mean he doesn't care for you.” Qui-Gon smiled sadly. “You have done great things, terrible things, and carried the pain of  both of them.” 

Anakin sobbed. This task he was burdened with, the pain he had to cause to settle debts that had nothing to do with him. Seeing Qui-Gon made him feel like he was ten years old again. He wanted to run into his arms and hold him.

“Thank you.” He said softly. 

“Now, you must complete your training with Obi-Wan, I have shown him what is needed. You must also complete training your Padawan.” He gave Anakin a big smile. “She is more important than you realize. The second half of the prophecy rests on her shoulders. You must be there to help her carry it.” 

“What’s the second half of the prophecy?” His voice went dark again. He didn’t want this nonsense anywhere near you. He wanted to end Palpatine and have this part of his life over with. Had he not sacrificed enough of himself for it? Had he not tried to make the right choice every time despite the cost? The only request he had ever had in this life was to spare you and his mother.

“Don’t worry about that. Just focus on training and confronting Palpatine. Only then you will be a Jedi, a true Jedi.” Qui-Gon looked at him for a long moment. “She will be fine.” His eyes held an emotion that Anakin didn’t understand. It scared him, but he trusted Qui-Gon. He didn’t really have a choice in the end, you were too involved to shut out. You were certainly not naive enough to dump off on some planet again. 

He had a million questions but felt Qui-Gon fade out. A new presence took his place, one he knew could have no form or words. She could just manage a feeling and it was enough. It was more than enough, the feeling wrapped around him and he held onto his mother tightly. 

After a long while, he came back to the present moment. He reached out to Obi-Wan, knowing that reestablishing the bond would be unavoidable. 

Master - He reached out and felt the bond attach on the other side. 

Anakin - Obi-Wan sounded surprised and the full force of his calm presence washed over Anakin. How much he had missed being able to reach out and feel his master. The feeling was so overwhelming he needed to stay in it for a moment. 

I need your help - He was unsure of what he would have left to learn from Obi-Wan but he trusted Qui-Gon. 

Obi-Wan rushed to the temple and Anakin could feel his unsettled nature. The concern for him made him want to cry again. He didn't deserve this side of Obi-Wan. He watched his master take in his meditation pose and his eyes softened. He sat next to him and Anakin tried to keep his composure as Obi-Wan’s arm came around his shoulders. 

“I want to apologize again,” Obi-Wan whispered. He could feel Shmi’s presence had not left the temple yet. 

“Please don’t.” Anakin choked. He could tell through the newly established bond just how much sorrow Obi-Wan’s heart carried. He was overflowing with it. He knew he felt responsible for Anakin’s mother, for how poorly the council had treated him, especially when he was a boy. He could feel how painful exile had been, how he couldn't escape Anakin so he moved to Tatooine to fully accept his punishment. How much he hated the sand, but how much he loved being close to the brother he lost.  Then he realized that the fresh paint and seasonal flowers on his mother’s grave was his doing. He could see his master there lighting a candle occasionally sitting with her telling her his best stories, all the moments she missed out on while he was away. The love for him that was often so well concealed flowed through the bond. 

“We failed each other,” Anakin whispered. 

“I was older and should have been wiser.” Obi-Wan said sadly. 

Anakin told him about the prophecy and they sat there together considering things. 

“You must overcome your emotions -” Anakin flinched and Obi-Wan put his hand back on his shoulder “ You must feel them and use them, but not be overwhelmed with them. Once you submit to your anger you lose the light, when you lose your anger and sense of justice, you lose your power. Everything must be about finding balance.” 

Anakin nodded.

“Do you think she will stay?” Obi-Wan looked confused by his question. 

“Why would she leave?” He asked softly, with tenderness in his features. 

“The whole Sith creation thing. She wants me to be better, that doesn't sound good with my track record.” Anakin could feel his insecurities start to rise up and he took a breath. 

Obi-Wan let out a laugh. “If she didn't want to see you she wouldn't have accepted jobs in Imperial air space for the past 7 years.” 

“I still can't believe you let her do that stuff,” Anakin said slightly put out with his master. 

“You think I could stop her?” He laughed again and Anakin shook his head. 

_________________________

He reluctantly stood in the elevator up to your apartment. He should feel a sense of relief, or motivated towards his plan. Instead he just felt anxious. He wanted you more than anything else in the galaxy. He’d sacrifice what he had to. He didn’t care that it was attachment, you were going to be his at any cost necessary. If you were horrified what would he do? Just force you down and fuck you back into submission again? 

No. 

He sighed as the door to your apartment opened, he hated it when you forgot to lock the door.  You were in the kitchen cooking, the sight of him caused you drop the wooden spoon into the frying pan. Your fingers picked it out and you hissed as the heat stung your flesh. 

Panic raced through him. Memories of Mustafar bit into his still aching flesh. He grabbed your wrist with too much force, using the other hand to manhandle you towards the sink. He put your fingers under cold water and tried to breathe. 

_______________

Anakin’s gloved hand had a painful grip on your wrist as he held it under the cold water. The fear in his eyes scared you as a cloud of darkness wrapped around him tightly. He wrapped his other hand around your torso and rested his cheek on the top of your head. You could feel his tears sinking into your scalp. 

“Anakin, it’s alright.” You said softly holding on to him with your free arm. “It won’t even scar, it doesn't hurt.” 

Your words were from this moment in time and you knew his mind was far away. In a world you probably wouldn't be able to reach. You let him hold you tightly. 

“I’m a Sith.” He said quietly making you jump slightly.

“I know.” You werent sure what exactly he was referring to. 

“What do you know?” He asked pulling away to look down at you. He was so much taller, you felt swallowed by his frame. 

“I had this vision? Not sure you could call it that exactly.” You tried to figure out what you wanted to tell him before you realized the best thing to do would be to read what you had written about it right after it had happened. No details would be missed or confused. “Here, I’ll grab my journal.” Your words did nothing to lessen his grip on you. 

He gave you a conflicted look. With the force he grabbed a jar of burn salve from the fridge. He opened it and stuck your fingers in it. 

“Just stay.” He was worn so thin it reminded you of when he had left you all those years ago. Three days he was at the temple, that probably meant three days without sleep. Not a good idea for Anakin. 

“Which journal is it?” He asked looking for guidance. 

“Erm - I’d have to help.” You picked the jar of salve up and kept your fingers inside it to appease him. Where did people go to get help for this sort of thing? You had no idea how to reassure him when he got like this. You just did what he wanted or had sex with him. 

He was satisfied with this. He moved with you to the bedroom. He followed your gaze to the few shelves that held notebooks, knowing full well he wouldn't listen if you told him not to read them. 

You pulled three from the shelf from around that time frame with the force and started flipping through them. His attention was engrossed with the colourful writing and drawings. You found the part you were looking for and handed it to him, returning the other two back to their place on the shelf. 

You reluctantly gave it over to him and returned back to the kitchen. Thankfully dinner hadn’t burned, as he’d turned the element down. He followed you leaning against your island while you kept cooking. His red eyes making sure your fingers stayed coated in the salve. 

You didn't hear him read the lines but you felt his heart clench. He rested his head in his hands for a moment. 

“Why did you come back?” He groaned. When you had written down what had happened you were completely terrified. You’d faced him and thought he had killed you. You woke up a shaking mess and wrote down every detail you could recall in case it came back to hurt you one day. You could feel his shame at the fear bleeding through the pages. 

“I didn’t I got captured.” You said evasively. You didn't know how to answer the question he was asking you. 

“Why did you bring me back.” He clarified his eyes devouring you. A memory came to you of laying in a field with him after a mission had ended and you were waiting on the ship to be repaired. The grass was covered in wild flowers and you laid in the sun, you had feelings for him but didn’t know how to tell him. You’d almost been hit on the mission and the way he had hugged you after was replaying through your mind. 

“I promised you I would always come back.” You referenced that moment when he had almost lost you for the first time. “There’s enough of you in there to make the risk worth it.” 

He closed his eyes and you felt him breaking down. You turned the element off half expecting to get jumped. 

“I’m sorry.” His words were so thick and raw. 

“Me too.” 

“No, you haven’t done anything. I did it all, turns out I had to in the end. But still, the things I’ve done to you-” His voice broke. 

“I wanted you to.” You felt his mind revisit that first night you had back together. 

“You didn’t.” 

“I did. I don’t know if you know this but I’m quite vocal when I’m unhappy.” You smirked.  

“You tried to push me away, I thought it was you pulling us together -” He took a deep breath. He needed to eat and then sleep before he got too carried away. 

“I don’t care. I wanted you back. That’s what I got.” 

“There’s another part to the prophecy.” His voice was low. 

“Oh boy.” you whispered. 

“Qui-Gon won’t tell me what it is, but it’s about you.” His features looked manic and you knew it was time to shut things down before he went over the edge. 

“I can handle it.” You said staring him down. You wouldn't let him be an idiot about things this time. “Now. I’m going to wash my fingers off, we're going to eat. Then sleep.”  He considered you for a long moment. You could tell he was recounting what happened last time he got this worn down and scared. 

He gave you a reluctant nod. You both ate quickly and despite it being 7:30 at night you got washed up and into bed. 

Anakin fell asleep quickly leaving you time to think about everything. The true power of the darkside was a mystery to you.  Having been Force resistant for the past 7 years, you felt particularly extra sensitive to it now. You could feel two sides of the force battling inside him, even as he slept the conflict radiated off of him. The pain still ate at his bones and his lungs were still struggling. Despite warring on him, the force was so strong it kept his body functional, making up for the gaps and the failings of his flesh. 

Just like everything else about Anakin Skywalker, this was something unheard of. Even when he wanted to die, even when his body was decaying, the force still pushed him forward.

[thestrongestmen]

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿?

➺ Character: Silco

➺ Reader: afab!reader

➺ Words: 3 099

➺ Chapter: Prologue. Chapter One.

➺ Summary: He has a plan for Zaun, more important than you, more important than your son. For the sake of your people, you turn a blind eye to his negligence. Until he brings home that little girl.

➺ Warning: None.

➺ A/n: It's been a week since I discovered that I have a real soft spot for Silco, thanks to the many excellent fanfics I've had the pleasure of discovering. It's made me want to take another look at Arcane and enjoy all Silco's appearances. I'm new to the fandom, so I hope to do you, long-time readers of Silco fanfics, proud. English is not my first language. Sorry for the mistakes.

A few days had passed since Silco had dropped that bomb. The family dynamic had been turned upside down overnight, making the atmosphere heavy and oppressive. A fragile balance reigned in your home, or was it just your imagination? Silco and the young girl he forced on you seem to be doing just fine, going about their daily father-daughter business. But you know better than to think that it wasn't your imagination. All you had to do was watch your son stand awkwardly, his gaze lowered to the ground over the last few days, as if he wanted to make himself smaller than he already was. He hardly dared to express his opinion. Your child's joyful laughter was replaced by Jinx's. You had nothing against her. You had nothing against her, she is a child who made no inappropriate gestures towards you or your son, we could even say that your relationship with her consisted of a brief exchange of greetings around the breakfast table. But you can't worry about improving your relationship with the girl when your son is suffering because his father is spending more time with her. What will he think if you decide to bond with her in his condition? You know he'll be destroyed.

That's why you decided to put a smile back on your little angel's face. That day, you went into his room early in the morning to surprise him. Impatience buzzed pleasantly in your chest, and you couldn't wait to see your son's reaction. You sit on the edge of his bed, stroking the locks that brush his forehead. His eyelids flutter and his eyebrows furrow, reacting to your gentle caresses.

"Mum…?" He asks in what sounds like a tired whisper. "Yes, angel." You reply just as softly, keeping the atmosphere private and warm. "I want to sleep…"

The frown on the young boy's face melts your heart. Even with a grumpy waking attitude, he's still adorable in your eyes. You place a kiss on his forehead, soon followed by another, again and again until he giggles, gently pushing your face away with his small hands.

"Stop it, Mum." He laughs. "Fine, but only if you listen to me all the way." You say, placing one last kiss on his nose.

No sooner said than done, like a good obedient boy, your son falls silent, looking at you through eyes still misty with sleep.

"We're going on a little trip to Piltover."

No sooner have you finished your sentence than sleep abandons your child's body. His eyes sparkle with joy, a feeling that had left his gaze several days ago. He squeals, holding back his voice at the risk of screaming and waking the whole house.

"Is it true? Really true? True true true?" "True, true, true" Assert yourself, with all the confidence in the world. "Thank you so much, Mum! You're the best! I love you!" "I love you too." You kiss her cheek. "Go and get ready and we'll be off straight away." "Yes!"

He rushes off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. A minimum of hygiene that you've taught him. You love your husband and you have no doubt that his teeth are the result of little more than a lack of hygiene, but you hope for a different fate for your child. In the meantime, you're preparing his clothes, an outfit that might prevent him from being labelled one of Zaun's children. In Piltover, it's best to avoid showing off your origins in the lower town.

It takes no more than fifteen minutes for your duo to be ready to leave the house. You run your hand through your child's hair one last time in the hope of taming that rebellious lock that's growing back on her head, but it doesn't work. You have to face the facts, this lock just won't flatten out.

"Let's go!" Your son says impatiently. "Where are you going?" Asks a small voice at the top of the stairs. "…Out…" Your son replies, reluctantly, after a few seconds. He clings to your leg. "Can I come?" The girl enthuses.

You take the trouble to think about it for two seconds, perhaps this is an opportunity for you to warm up to the young girl. She must also feel lonely in this new house with just Silco to talk to comfortably. This outing would be an opportunity to bond and ease the palpable tension. Your son's grip tightens on your leg and you look down at him. Your heart squeezes painfully. He clings to you as if you were a lifeline. The light is reflected in the tears that threaten to slide down his cheeks. He saw her as a threat. A threat that replaced him, he didn't want his mother taken away from him. But before you can respond, your son surprises you by speaking up.

"No! It's just Mum and me!"

He pulls you by the hand to get you out of the house. You let him, but you can't help glancing at Jinx who is calling out to you to let her come. You can also see the tears welling up in her eyes before the door is forcefully closed by your still angry son. You let a few minutes pass as you make your way through the deserted streets at dawn, when almost everyone is still asleep. The silence is heavy and you feel the weight of remorse beginning to weigh on your child's shoulders now that the anger is slowly but surely subsiding. After some thought, you pat his shoulder, drawing his attention to you.

"First one to the antique shop wins an ice cream."

You start running, or should I say trotting, your head tilted to the side to look over your shoulder at him.

"That's not fair, you're cheating!"

He starts running with all his might, you have to hold back the urge to hug him in front of the determination shining on his face. Sometimes you have to pick up your speed, just a little, to give him the feeling of competition. "I'm not a baby any more, Mum!" A phrase he's uttered to you so often since he turned six. So you make sure he doesn't feel treated like one, despite the fact that he'll always be your baby, even when he's sixty. He arrives before you at the finish line you had set yourself. He gives you the most smug look in the world, as if to say "You see, I've beaten you even though you started first!" You applaud, celebrating his little victory, happy to see a smile curving his lips.

Now comes the tricky part, getting into Piltover from Zaun, especially since security has been stepped up because of the kids who caused quite a ruckus there. But you always manage to do it - discretion is a skill you've developed from an early age, a trait you're determined to pass on so that one day it won't be your son who blows up a building when he's stealing. Even if, on a personal level, you hope for a better life for him. You manage to blend in with the crowd of locals thanks to your outfits. You look like a mother and son in matching outfits. A respectable family not from Zaun. How long has it been since you've worn something like this? Your gaze lingers on the reaction of your son, who is looking at the shop windows with interest, everything is so new. He pulls you by the hand, pointing to a pastry shop window.

"Do you want to try it?"

He nods fervently. You laugh softly, wondering why you even asked such an obvious question. You enter the patisserie. The sweet, tantalising smell tickles your nose. You find yourself salivating at the very idea of feeling the sweetness of the pastry cream slide over your tongue again. But it seems you're not the most impatient. Your son is practically pressed up against the window, his eyes sparkling with the joy of all his sweet treats, and you have to hold him by the shoulders to stop him smearing the glass with his forehead and fingerprints. Fortunately, the pastry chef, a nice lady, laughs at your son's impatience, smiling kindly at him.

"What would you like, young sir?" She asks, as your son gasps in surprise. "Young sir? Did you hear Mum? I'm a sir!"

You laugh in agreement with the pastry chef, tenderised by your child's words. You stroke his hair, before turning your attention back to the lady.

"I'll get you an assortment of pastries. With this add two cream puffs and a fruit tartlet, please."

She nods, preparing your order. You pay, thanking the lady for her hospitality, and leave the shop to find a small park where you can sit in the shade of a tree. You take out the various pastries before the dazzled eyes of your child, who can't resist biting into the cream puff. Part of it falls into his lap, clearly not expecting the cream to come out the other side. But he didn't pay any attention, just caught the fallen cream with his finger and licked it off. You share his enthusiasm, the cream puff is succulent. The sweetness of the cream glides over your taste buds. You can almost feel the weight of recent events melting away like snow in the sun. The sweetness goes perfectly with the fresh, clean air of Piltover, nothing like Zaun, which is still under a cloud of toxins. At this moment, in this small park surrounded by a few families out for a stroll, you can't help but find the scenery magnificent. It's a perfect place to bring up your child. Away from it all. The sight of your son discovering the fruit on his tartlet makes you melt. You can easily imagine a world where you raise your child in such calm surroundings.

The day unfolds slowly. You show him the quiet little streets and the crowded, bustling avenues. You introduce him to a whole host of delicious foods and drinks that you can't find in Zaun. You enjoy his beaming smile, happy to have your little ray of sunshine back. The sky is turning orange. The visit soon comes to an end, but to crown the day, you take him to a toy shop.

"May I? Isn't that too…?" He asks, worried about all the money you've spent on him. "Don't worry about it, just enjoy it, it's your day."

He nods and gets lost in the many shelves of toys. If he listens to himself, you have no doubt he'd like to buy the whole shop. After a few minutes he returns with two toys, a shy smile on his face.

"Can you buy me two, please?" "Sure, any particular reason?" "…" He seems to hesitate. "Angel?" "I was a bit mean to Jinx…I need to apologise…"

Surprise marks your features before your eyes soften at the preciousness of your son. How could you refuse to spend a little more? You're proud that you didn't have to intervene for him to decide to make the first move and apologise. He's such a good boy. How can you doubt it? After all, you brought him up! Even if you can't throw yourself all the flowers for his upbringing, Silco isn't there to stop you.

When you finally get home, your son is dozing against you, one arm supporting his weight while the other holds the bag with the toys. You're not going to lie, it's terribly difficult to support him with just one arm, but the close view of your house gives you the last shred of courage you need not to collapse here. You don't know by what miracle, but you manage to open the door to the house. After a day like this, there's nothing like the comfort of home. Or so you thought. But when you see Silco waiting for you on the sofa, his eyes riveted on you, his lips pressed firmly against the filter of a cigarette, you know you're going to have another argument. You gently shake your son awake. Once you're sure he can stand, you set him down, holding back the sigh of relief at feeling your arm again. Your muscles are screaming with joy.

"Go up to your room, angel." You say. "No, stay here." "Silco…" You warn, but your subtle threat goes over his head. "Why did you refuse to let Jinx accompany you?" He asks calmly, but his gaze is stern. "I…"

Your son stammers, unable to bear his father's gaze, he looks down, as if he already knows he's going to get reprimanded, again. Yet despite everything, his voice, as weak as a breeze, continues to recount the thoughts running through his head, because he knows that his father doesn't like it when he doesn't get a clear answer.

"I was angry…You've always been with her since she arrived, you talk to her more and spend more time with her. So when Mum said it was just the two of us going out…I…I didn't want her to steal Mum from me too…" He barely finishes the end of his sentence, it was practically inaudible. He looks up, hoping to find understanding and paternal comfort but his hopes are shattered when he meets only Silco's sternness. "Don't be selfish. She only arrived a few days ago. It's normal that she needs more attention from us, it's no small thing arriving in a new family especially after a trauma." "But-" "No buts. Don't start that again." "Dad!" "Don't complicate things." Silco sighs, massaging his eyes to relieve the tension.

The child takes a step backwards, his legs shaking. Betrayal shows on his face as pain pulses through every fibre of his body. He runs upstairs, not stopping when you call his name. It breaks you. You feel your heart clench painfully. You're unable to protect your son, you can only try to mend the pieces over and over again, but how long could he last? A child is so fragile at that age. He's still developing. You're angry. Words can't describe the rage you feel. Yet you can't get it out. You learnt years ago that shouting at Silco never gets you anywhere. But you're not going to back down, you need to have a little chat. So you sit down in the square beside him, taking his hand between yours. A silence falls between you, no one speaks, but you can hear the faint sobs of your son. Surprisingly, it's not you who breaks the silence first, but your husband, who lets out a sigh. His thumb strokes the back of your hand in a circular motion.

"I was too harsh, wasn't I?" It wasn't a real question. He knows it wasn't. You know it. He was too harsh. But you take the time to answer anyway. "Yes, you were too harsh." You leave a moment of silence before continue. "You know that, so why go on?" "I need him to understand. We've never been able to give him siblings, this is his chance to have someone to rely on later, when we're gone. Someone who won't betray him."

You look at your intertwined hands. His thumb is still caressing the back of your hand, a little gesture he always makes when something is bothering him and weighing on his mind. You know it helps him relax.

"You know it divides them more than anything else?"

He doesn't answer but you can see from the way he squints that he knows you're right. Your anger is still pounding in your chest, you just want to scream at him to make him understand how much he's hurting your son, but you mustn't… You must refrain and keep calm. Perhaps this discussion will allow you to reconcile father and son. You can only hope. The silence drags on, so you decide to speak again.

"You know, he blamed himself. He regretted not taking Jinx with us." You take a toy box out of the bag and place it on your husband's lap. "He wanted to buy her a toy to make up for it, without me having to whisper the idea to him. There's still hope that one day they'll be like real brother and sister, we just have to work together to weld together this ideal family you're talking about."

His gaze lingers on the toy box, a myriad of feelings crossing his pupils without you being able to distinguish them all. You tighten your grip on his hand to offer a touch of comfort before you rise from the sofa, bag in hand.

"I'm going to go and talk to him." Silco sighs. A tired breath. "I don't think he wants to see you." You say, lips puckered into a thin line. "Just as I don't think you're rested enough for this discussion with him." "If I wait until tomorrow, he'll spend the night tormenting himself even more."

Uncertain, you stare at your husband for several seconds, before finally holding out your arm, presenting him with the bag containing your son's toy. And when he takes it from your hand, you nod, hoping you're doing the right thing. You can't deny him the right to try and make up. He's made mistakes in the last few weeks, but he's done his best throughout your child's life. He's always been afraid of being a father. How do you raise a child in Zaun? He knows how to govern people, but bringing someone up from the very first minutes of life are two completely different things.

He grabs the handle of the bag, places a kiss on your forehead and walks past you up the stairs. Despite the urge to listen outside your son's bedroom door, you curb this urge and decide to spend a moment alone in the living room to rest from this emotional rollercoaster. The noise of the city cuts through the walls of the house, leaving no moment of real silence. Nothing excessively loud, just a permanent background noise that marks Zaun's busy life. A thin smile curves your lips as Silco's soft whisper reaches your ears. You can't hear the words, just the timbre of his voice, but that doesn't stop you from smiling.

Tomorrow you'll go and talk to Jinx and form a bond with this child. That'll do. Tomorrow is the day you're going to form the beginnings of a real family.

Isn't it?

Taglist

@kneelarmhstrung @aikoiya

[wandafiction]

Water Fight - Just Us Chapter 31

Warnings 18+: Fluff, Smut, Thigh Riding (Wanda), Slight choking,

Word Count: 3679

Series List | Chapter 30 | Chapter 32

================================

"Okay what's the game plan?" Me, Yelena and Natasha are standing at the back of my car looking at all the water guns. 

"I want that one." Yelena's eyes have a devilish glint to them as she points out the gun.

"Okay so Yelena gets the Super Soaker Hydra." I grab it, passing it off to Yelena as she takes in the details of the plastic toy.

"Natasha, which one do you want?" Natasha doesn't speak, she just leans in the back grabbing out another one of the big guns, I also don't miss the pistol she puts behind her back. "The Super Soaker Soakzooker, excellent choice."

"What about you Y/n?" I turn to look at Yelena, a smirk growing on my face.

"I've got my baby right here." I open up a box in the back that I hid the gun in to make sure I got it. "Brand new Spyra Two."

I chuck the rest of the guns in a duffle bag, there are a few super soakers, a couple of pistols and one of those small rubbish pistols for Nathaniel to use as he is still too little to pump the guns properly to get them to work. We make our way into the house, checking our corners to make sure we are not going to get caught on our sneak attack, hopefully everyone is still in the garden. 

"Psst, come this way. Will can fill them up in the sink out here then sneak out the side door." Natasha waves me and Yelena over to the utility room, filling up the large sink so we can fill the guns up. 

All the guns take a while to fill up, because of course we had to choose the biggest of the lot but once we are ready we make our way to the side door that opens up to the side of the backyard that you can't see from the decking. Natasha leads, with Yelena close behind and me at the rear as she slowly and quietly opens the door swiveling her head left from right to make sure no one is in view. She lifts her hand in the air wiggling one finger silently, telling us to follow her. 

"Are you sure you're not a Russian spy Natasha, this all seems very tactical." I hear her huff out a laugh rolling her eyes at me as she turns to face me.

Just as she is about to say something we hear laughing close by and we simultaneously press our backs to the wall, crouching down to try and hide ourselves a little more. When the laughter moves away from us Natasha slowly slides her body along the wall putting her head past the corner to check the surroundings, holding up a fist to tell us to stay where we are. Me and Yelena hold our breath waiting for Natasha's singal.

We wait…

Her finger waves us to move as she moves around the corner.

"WATER FIGHT!" Yelena shouts as she rounds the corner immediately aiming for Sharon, firing with no remorse and laughing like a crazy person when she gets her right in the face. "Bullseye!"

I turn to see the children running away, so make my way towards them as Tommy and Billy group together to protect Nathaniel. If I wasn't so interested in attacking them with my water guns I would have melted at the sight, but I couldn't let it distract me. They hid Nathaniel behind their bodies who was shouting out about how the alien is after him. 

"Don't worry Nathaniel, we will protect you." Billy raises his arms in front of him, like has some sort of magic powers that are going to stop me.

"Your powers aren't going to stop me Billy." 

"Billy take Nat, I will distract her!" I smile at the nickname they have given him as Tommy shouts at them as he runs towards me, jeez Wanda's right this kids quick...but not as quick as me.

I turn my body running after Tommy who is already a few paces ahead of me, so as I am running I move my gun to aim for his back. When the cold water makes contact with his shirt he squeals a bit zigzagging around to try and put me off. He makes his way up the decking, essentially trapping himself so I spray him a few times and he dramatically collapses to the floor shouting 'man down, man down'. 

I turn around to search the backyard for the other two boys taking in the sight of Yelena chasing Sharon as she vaults over a plant pot or two showing off the skills Shield has obviously taught her as she avoids heavy fire from the young Russian. I also see Wanda, who has been cornered by Natasha, holding her hands in front of her face to try and stop the water as she laughs that gorgeous angelic laugh of hers. I pull my eyes away from watching Wanda, looking over to where I see Billy and Nathaniel running towards Wanda to go and help her. I smirk as I vault over the railing landing in front of them causing screams of horror to leave their mouths as they slide to a complete stop in front of me.

"Go Nathaniel!" Nathaniel darts back the other way as Billy holds up his hands waving them in the air. 

I stop all my movements like he has got me in his trap, frozen on the spot. His eyes widen slightly as he looks at his hands then back to me with a smirk. His smirk drops when my hand twitches, the gun moves ever so slightly upwards as the water makes contact with his face.

"I'm too powerful to be stopped by you Wiccan!" 

"Wiccan?" He tilts his head, wow he is just like his mother.

"Uh, yeah just came up with it now. Like you're some form of wizard with what you were doing with your hands."

"Oh cool. I like that." 

"Good because it's sticking."

"Does Tommy have a nickname?" As I'm about to answer I realise he is just trying to distract me so I shoot his forehead one more time.

"Don't distract me." He laughs at me as I scoot past his body searching the backyard for Nathaniel, smiling when I see his small body behind a tree. 

I take quiet steps till I'm close enough to the tree to get the rascal. I see his hand move to his mouth as he tries to hold his breath, obviously sensing that I'm close, but it's too late for him because I jump around and start shooting at his body. He shrieks as he runs back towards the other people who all stop their movements when they hear a very horrific scream only laughing when they realise it's Nathaniel being very dramatic. They all laugh as I wrap my arms around him instead of shooting him with water, and he kicks his legs around and he screams to the twins for help.

They make their way over to me trying to pry my arms open to allow Nathaniel to escape. I quickly bend down to place Nathaniel on the ground, as he turns to run away I quickly grab the twins wrapping my arms around their bodies so I can hold one under each arm. Damn they are heavier than I expected. So I don't drop them on the floor. I quickly make my way to the edge of the pool that is in the backyard and the boys look up at me in pure horror. I turn to Wanda to make sure it's okay to chuck them in, and as soon as I get a small nod I take a few steps back running towards the pool. As I jump I let go of the boys making sure to push their bodies away from me so we don't end up colliding as we go underwater. 

I bring my head up below the surface of the water, as the boys make their way to me pushing me back under. I flail my hands while under grabbing a leg of one of the boys, I hear a muffled scream from underwater as I pull the body under with me and push myself off the bottom of the pool so I come to the surface. I see Tommy above the surface so it was Billy I dragged under, I wait until he pops back above the surface before I swim towards Tommy who makes a quick swim towards the stairs. 

Tommy manages to get out of the pool, running towards Wanda and the other woman who have been watching this whole thing go down with Nathaniel standing there, his small body wrapped in a fluffy towel as his lips have a tiny hint of blue, he must have been standing still for too long. Instead of continuing the chase with Tommy, I stop and turn to Nathaniel even though we are having fun I can't let my little brother die of hypothermia.

"Do you want to dry off and get changed or do you want to put your swimming shorts on and get in the pool with me?" I see Tommy poke his head out from behind Wanda as he realises I have put a pause on the game we were playing.

"Ca-can I get in the pool. I want to p-p-play some more." His teeth chatter a little as he speaks.

"Of course let's get you warmed up a little first." I pick up his tiny body, making sure the towel stays securely on him and I tuck the extra length under his feet so he doesn't drip water through the house. 

"Can someone show me where our bags are please?" 

"I will come with you. Come on boys you should get into your shorts too if you want to stay in the pool." Wanda takes the lead as the four of us follow her inside, the other woman heading back to the table to catch their breaths and finish their drinks.

"Tommy, Billy your clothes are in Yelena's room so you can get changed in their and the bathroom opposite. Y/n and Nathaniel, your clothes are in the guest room with mine." 

Tommy and Billy disappear into a room on the left side of the hallway while I follow Wanda, Nathaniel still in my arms as he snuggles closer to me trying to keep warm, to the end of the hallway. She holds the door open for me and I place Nathaniel on the bed as I go to grab his bag, picking up his red and blue swim shorts. 

"Alright buddy, up." He pushes his body off the bed, as I bend down to match his height, rubbing my hands up and down the outside of the towel to help dry him off a little while creating some warmth. 

"Here you go buddy." Wanda pulls one of the blankets off the bed wrapping it around his small body to try and help warm him up.

"Thank you Miss Wanda."

"Wanda is just fine, bud." She gives him a gentle smile as she strokes a hand through his short brown hair.

"Okay Wanda." He shuffles his body closer to her, as she wraps her arms around him moving them up and down to help keep him warm.

"Are you warming up?" 

"Yes thank you Wanda." 

"Good. I will leave you to get changed, just come and get me when you're done so I can get sorted." 

"Okay. Thank you Wanda." I could really kiss her right now, but Nathaniel would witness. Wanda seems to be thinking the same as she takes my hand in hers and gives it a light squeeze, stroking her thumb on my knuckles before letting go and making her way out of the room.

"Okay buddy let's get you sorted so you can play in the pool."

Once Nathaniel is changed I tell him he is okay to go back outside as long as he is with the boys or one of the adults in the pool, while I get changed myself. Before he leaves he gives me a hug and squeezes me tight.

"You okay there buddy?" He nuzzles his head into my neck.

"I'm okay. I'm really happy right now! Thank you for today. It has been a lot of fun! Can we do this again sometime?" I stroke my arm up and down his back as a smile fondly at his request.

"Of course we can. We will talk to Wanda and maybe organise something with the boys and we can bring your brother and sister next time too. How does that sound?" 

"Amazing!" He gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek before trying to wiggle out of my arms. "Can you put me down now please? I want to go and play again."

He gives me the biggest puppy eyes ever, so I give into his request giving him a quick kiss; and place him on the ground. I'm amazed when I see him calmly walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. He must know not to run in the house. I make my way to my bag pulling out my bikini, which is a Nike sportswear one as I'm not very comfortable with wearing two pieces of fabric held together by string. Instead this has high waisted bottoms, and a crop top like top. It gives me enough coverage to be comfortable but still shows off everything a normal bikini does. It's a win, win for me. 

I have just finished changing my bottom half, and as I'm taking my top half off I hear the door of the room open and close in quick succession and then a small click. I turn my head to see Wanda leaning against the door as she drinks me in with her eyes, her bottom lip between her teeth. 

"Take a picture it will last longer." What I don't expect to hear or see is the sound and flash of her phone taking a picture. I turn my head to look over my shoulder ready to give her the 'really' look, but when I see her eyes darkened with lust a small smirk plays on my lips. I see another flash. When she looks down at the picture and then up at me I see her gently squeeze her thighs together, eyes closing when she catches me staring. 

"Like what you see princess?" All she can do is nod, her lip still between her teeth as she puts her phone down on the desk by the door, her hands resting on her thighs gently scratching at them with her nails. 

I turn my whole body around now, her eyes drop to my chest a small whimper leaving her mouth as her thighs clench even more. I start walking towards Wanda as her eyes watch my every movement moving from my chest, to my chiselled abs back to my chest then up into my eyes. I come to a stop in front of her, looking down at her as she looks up at me, her pupils blown wide open with lust. I place my left hand on the door just above her head so I can lean over her some more, but leaving enough room for her to move if she needs to. 

My right hand comes to rest on her cheek, stroking it gently, before using the tip of my index finger to draw a line from her cheek, down her jaw to her neck then from her neck to her shoulder. My finger is barely touching the skin but goosebumps grow along her skin the further I get, her body arching slightly to get closer to me wanting more friction. My finger dances down her arm until it reaches her hand where I place my palm in hers, pushing my fingers between hers. I move my left arm down to do the same with the other arm, before suddenly moving them up above her head using one hand to hold both her wrists. My right hand coming down to hold her waist, holding her against the door.

"These stay here babygirl. Is that okay?" She gives me a nod. "Words babygirl."

"Yes, please, just please."

"Desperate, much? What's going you so riled up?"

"You." She states quickly.

"What have I done?"

"Vaulting over the railing. God that was so fucking sexy, like my god I didn't realise your muscles could look any better and then they tensed and your veins. Don't even get me started on your veins." She lets out a moan as I push my knee between her legs putting pressure on her core, she starts moving her hips riding my thigh.

"Keep going." My hand on her waist helps guide her movements against my leg, letting her know I am more than okay with her bringing herself to an orgasm.

"And when you did those press ups. Baby you're so strong, your muscles nearly broke through your shirt. I've had to control myself all day, to make sure I didn't drag you into the bathroom to let you take me. I need you." Her voice is becoming breathy the more she rides my thigh.

I stop her movements for a second, she lets out a small whine but moans when my hands make contact with her clothed core. I move my hand to the band of underwear pulling them down till they fall to the floor. I slam my lips against hers in a passionate kiss, keeping her arms above her head as I put my leg back between hers. The grinding of her core against my thigh immediately continues and I can feel the trail of wetness her movements are leaving behind.

"That's it babygirl. Work yourself up for me. Be a good girl and make yourself cum on my thigh." Her pace picks up as moans and sighs leave her mouth. I let go of her wrists, her hands drop to my shoulders for support and I bring the hand down to her neck giving it a slight squeeze.

Her breath hitches in her throat.

"Is this okay babygirl." She nods but then sees the look on my face.

"Yes it's more than okay." 

"Good because you have to be quiet there are other people here." Wanda bites her bottom lip to suppress her moans as her movements become erratic against my thigh.

"Please baby I'm so close." 

"Please what babygirl?" I squeeze her throat a little tighter, before releasing the pressure not wanting to hurt her or leave a mark.

"Please can I cum, I want to cum." 

"You've been such a good girl controlling yourself all day, so cum for me." I move my mouth against her ear, poking my tongue in her lobe to see how she reacts, I hear a moan from the back of her throat and smile. "That's it babygirl. Be a good girl now, cum for me."

With those final words her hips jutter as her head flings back against the door, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Her back arches, her body coming into contact with mine as I feel her juices release onto my thigh, her nails digging into my shoulders, one of her hands flies to her mouth to muffle her moans. Her hips move lazily against my leg a few more times before her body completely relaxes against mine slumping into me.

"You okay princess?" I cup her face with my hands, moving her hair behind her ears.

"More than okay." I smile down at her bringing our lips together for a few seconds before leaning my forehead against hers.

"Feeling better." She smacks my arms gently as I let out a small laugh.

"Rude, but yes so much better."

"Well seeing you cum against my thigh is something I'm not going to get out of my head." She hums as she pecks my lips a couple of times. "I think I am going to shower before I head back downstairs don't want to get in the pool with you all over my leg " 

Wanda's face flushes at the thought, burying her head against my chest to try and hide it. I don't say anything but start stroking my hand through her hair. After a few minutes of calm she rests her chin against my chest looking up at me. 

"Y/n I...I…I…" She bows her head, becoming all shy before taking a breath and looking back up at me." I want to join you in the shower."

"Won't your friends and the boys wonder where you are?" She shakes her head.

"Natasha told me to stop staring and just get laid. Her words not mine, she was fed up with me just watching you. And Yelena and the boys are playing in the pool." 

"Okay well I'm more than happy for you to join me." I grab her hand, dragging her into the ensuite locking the door behind us. 

I wonder why she got so nervous about asking to join me? I would never say no. Unless she wanted to ask something else but got too shy or nervous. I will speak to her later about it. For now I am going to enjoy this shower, which is definitely not going to stay PG for very long. I hear the water turn on and see Wanda stepping under it and I can't help but stare at her.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." I laugh at her using my own words against me as I step in the shower to join her.

"Your beauty cannot be captured by a single moment. A picture would do what I see in front of me no justice because you are too beautiful to describe, you Wanda are ethereal." 

"And you Y/n are ravishing." 

================================

[deandoesthingstome]

Welcoming Committee - Part 8

Pairing: Captain Syverson X Reader/OFC (Drea); August Walker x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); Captain Syverson x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); August Walker x Reader/OFC (Drea)

Word count: 973

Series Summary: You and Sy have been together for three years, but you still like to mix it up. The new neighbors down the street give you a chance to do just that.

Masterlist for series warnings. Heads up: this is 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings: Sub/dom check in, bratty behavior, power play, impact play, spanking/slapping, oral F receiving, fingering, male masterbation,

Not only did he spank me, but he also arranged it so he had good hold on my throat. Every time August landed a smack, I shifted forward into his grip. I kept trying to arch back, to meet his hand, to feel the sting, because as much as I loved the squeeze it was his strike I wanted to receive tonight.

"Please, Sir," I gasped, not quite desperate, but pleading nonetheless.

"What is it love? What do you need?"

There was only one thing to do.

"Pickles." He immediately let my throat go and bent over to check in with a much tamer voice than I'd heard so far tonight.

"Are you alright? Have I hurt you?" he spoke not in a whisper, but low enough Sy couldn't have heard, occupied as he was with his face between Neve's thighs.

I turned my head to look directly in his eyes so he knew I was telling the truth.

"I'm alright," I knew I could drop the name for now. I really should have informed him earlier, but he was checking now and we needed to clear this up before he went any further. "You haven't hurt me. Another time I would relish your hands around my throat. But tonight, please, just spanking and slapping. And it can be harder. I'll signal if it's too much."

"Ass and face only?"

"You can also hit my tits and slap my pussy." I had excellent makeup for cover-up if it came to it.

"I can work with that. I'm sorry, Drea."

"It's okay. Thank you for stopping for me. Are you ready?"

"Are you?"

And now only one way back. "Yes Sir," I grinned. "Do your worst."

"Do. Your. Worst. What?" He hammered home each word with a sharp slap on my ass, harder than before and I knew I feel those for a while. I was so pleased with how this night was progressing.

"Do your worst, Sir!" I practically screamed in response as I felt the winding of the tight coil deep in my pussy. If he'd just...oh, fuck!

"I thought you were keeping her mouth shut tonight, Walker? You got it under control over there? Need any help?" Sy teased from across the room, his mouth still hovering near Neve's quivering thighs.

"I think I've changed my mind about that, Syverson. Listen to how pretty her cries sound when she comes all over my hand."

August had somehow sensed how close I was and after those four sharp cracks on my ass, he'd slipped his hand between my cheeks and drilled two or three fingers deep into my sopping wet core. I couldn't tell for sure how many, and I didn't really care. He was somehow magically stroking the exact spot needed to release my first orgasm of the night and it felt incredible. Of course I was howling for him already.

"Or maybe you wanna come shut her up yourself?"

"Auggie, play fair," Neve gasped as Sy stuck his head back between her legs. "Quit interrupting my fun," she squealed, and I knew Sy had her close, too.

As I was coming back down, August pulled me up to perch my ass on the narrrow strip of couch between his massive thighs, my back pressed against his chest. He wrapped one arm around my breasts as I heaved to catch my breath and snaked his other around my waist, settling his fingers against my twitchy cunt.

In this position I had the best view of Sy's ass, his pants pushed down just enough for him to have taken hold of himself. I could see his arm pumping while he bent over and continued to feast between Neve's legs, drapped as they were over his shoulders. She was doing a much better job than me of keeping her voice down, but only because she had clasped a hand over her mouth and was clearly screaming into it as she came for him.

"Isn't she lovely, spread wide and coming hard for your husband?" August whispered in my ear, while his hand caressed my folds.

"She's gorgeous," I moaned and felt a sharp tap on my pussy, the sting heightening my senses again. "Sir! She's gorgeous, Sir!"

"You really have such a hard time with your manners, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Mmm, better," he purred in my ear as we both watched Sy ease Neve off the mantle and carry her back to the couch. He moved with practiced ease, his thick cock jutting out between his legs kept wide enough to trap his loose pants in place for the moment. Once he'd set her down, he rid himself of shoes and pants before diving down over her and trapping her lengthwise on the couch beneath his imposing body. I couldn't wait to watch him fuck her.

Aside from getting more physical with a partner, seeing Sy really get into it was one of the main reasons I loved sharing time with him. I knew what his power felt like, but because he fucked me senseless it was always so hard to really focus on the beauty of his form and style.

It was going to be a stretch to split my attention on needling August into what I needed while also taking in the spectacular view of my glorious fucking machine of a husband.

"She's going to make the prettiest noises for him, Drea," August spoke as he alternated between cupping and slapping my pulsing pussy. "You like that, huh? Watching him?"

"Yes, I really do. Sir!" I gasped out the last bit as August landed another sharp tap against my core. The coil was tightening again but I wanted him inside me before I came again. I nuzzled my head back against him and begged. "Please, Sir. Fuck me."

Part 9

[tippilo]

Chapter 23 Excerpt: The Three Broomsticks Now on AO3:

A large ‘closed’ sign greeted them as they approached the doorstep of Honeydukes. It didn’t surprise Tom; it was well after midnight on New Year’s Day after all. Hermione, however, acted like the news was completely unprecedented.

“What do they mean they’re bloody closed?!”

“It’s past midnight on—”

“I know what time it is, Tom!” She paced in front of the doorstep, her feet dragging through the freshly fallen snow.

The winter chill was making itself known in the Scotland mountains. Icy air entered his lungs with each breath. He shifted their shopping bags to his other hand. His fingers going numb.

He opened his mouth to reply, but then decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Any attempt to console her would only rile her further. Silence was his best option.

“We could unlock the door!” She suggested.

He kept quiet.

“It’s a simple spell!”

He said nothing.

“It’s worth a try!”

He tried not to say anything. He really did. But the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “You think they wouldn’t have wards? You believe wizard-owned shops lock their doors at night and move along?” He watched Hermione’s eyes widen with horror. He pursed his lips as he fought to keep the smile off his face. She looked ready to pull her hair out.

“We could go through the main gates!” She rushed to say, her pitch getting higher. “It’s late. Maybe no one would notice us sneaking back into the castle!”

“I highly doubt that. Plus, with all the students at Hogwarts, I’m sure they have more security measures in place than some iron gates.” She glared at him. His blasé attitude about the whole thing did not help.

“There are other passages! We could go through the Shrieking Shack!”

“What the fuck is that?”

“Shoot!” she muttered something about werewolves and a willow tree; along with a bunch of other stuff Tom couldn’t quite make out.

Speaking of making out… He watched her assault on her lower lip increase with her anxiety. That bloody bartender interrupted them just when things were getting good. He had his hand poised, ready to slide under her skirt. He didn’t give a fuck who saw them.

His eyes glazed over as he imagined the possibilities. Apparently, a quick wank in the bathroom didn’t satiate his appetite for her. Nothing did these days. “We could get a room,” he said. He would have her all to himself. No interruptions. All night long. Together. Alone. On a bed.

Fuck.

“What?!” She stopped pacing and gaped at him. She looked at him as if he just suggested running away into the mountains to be married and having her bear his children—rather than merely staying some place warm for a night.

He watched her tongue peek out and wet her lips. He would suck on that tongue as soon as he slammed the door closed.

Snow fell lightly on her curls. Her nose was pink with the cold.

“The bartender said they had a room. We’ll come back in the morning when Honeydukes is actually open.” He gestured at the building with his hand—or was it a giant ice cube? It was difficult to tell.

“We can’t share a room!” She squealed, crossing her arms over her chest in exasperation. She did this adorable, outraged scowl—like a cute little lion.

“I would have suggested sleeping on the doorstep of Honeydukes, but it’s freezing and doesn’t look comfortable.”

“Are you laughing right now?”

“No.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I’m not laughing.”

“It looked like you were laughing to me!” She moved her hands to her hips and her lips pressed into a firm line. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he fought to suppress a grin at her comical pout. She definitely wouldn’t appreciate that right now.

“I promise, I wasn’t laughing,” he repeated.

“You’re a garbage liar, Tom!” she said. He was actually an excellent liar, but he wasn’t about to dispute her claim. “I don’t appreciate any humor in this!” she huffed and returned to her pacing, watching the ground where the snow accumulated. He could almost see the panic welling under her skin.

Dammit. Despite how entertaining the situation was, he hadn’t planned on freezing tonight. His witch was being stubborn.

He stepped closer to her. “Hermione, stop.” His fingers touched her upper arm. He imagined her red coat’s texture to be soft, but the bitter chill made his skin prickle with pain at the contact.

She paused and eyed him skeptically.

“I’m going back to The Three Broomsticks.” He had a purse full of Galleons in his pocket. There should be enough for one night. “I would like you to come too, but I won’t force you. It’s up to you.” He decided not to add that he wanted to fuck her into the mattress.

She blinked at him once, then twice, three times before she spoke. “Okay,” her voice sounded small in the strange quiet of the winter. “I’ll go back to The Three Broomsticks with you.”

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week in Review VII

Not too much to report on this week - Mr. Truly and I both had the week off and then the little Truly's were thrown off their routine and it's been a week. But it was capped off with a new addition to the household!

So without further ado, let's get on with this week's late-night Sunday in Review!

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Cake (Marcus Pike)

Autumnal Offerings

Distracting (Joel Miller)

Smut, just Frankie smut

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

Shared Breaths (Frankie Morales) by @frenchiereading This whole series is such a delight to read and let me tell you, chapter nine is worth reading multiple times over, let me tell you that 😏. But this is a perfect story - you've got yearning for the first half and the second half is the play out of a developing relationship that is so fun to watch play out. If you love Frankie, you won't be disappointed in this.

Turbulence (Frankie Morales) by @rhoorl Jess' first run at a one-shot on our main man this week Frankie does not disappoint! I don't mind flying, but I can guarantee any flight sitting next to our aviation expert Mr. Morales is going to be a lot smoother. This is such a fun read and I really hope we see him again in a possible continuation of this.

Saying I love you through an accidental kiss (Joel Miller) Pre-Outbreak by @songsformonkeys This one reappeared on my dash this week and it's always worth a re-read and always one I'll recommend. It's Joel at his most hectic, which is very much how I picture pre-outbreak Joel and just the build-up here and the kiss is such a toe-curling delight to read, that I squeal each time even though I know it's coming.

Strawberries (Joel Miller) by @softlyspector This is set after Clouds, but doesn't have to be read first before this one. This explores Ellie and Joel's relationship after the events of TLOU and delves into TLOU2 territory (no spoilers in either one-shot). As much as I love the idea of Ellie and Joel living happily ever after in Jackson - I do enjoy an angsty dive into their relationship as it is in the TLOU2 games. This and Clouds are excellent takes on this!

Hungry Hearts | Epilogue + Bonus I Wanna Mary You (Joel Miller) by @atinylittlepain How my heart wasn't ready for this to end - but Gin gave Jerry the send-off they deserved and not only that, we were treated to a bonus second part to the epilogue that I'm still raving about! Honestly, who wasn't reading this? But if you weren't, I suggest you do - you can binge all the posted chapters! Jerry4Eva! 💘

Candy (Dieter Bravo) by @secretelephanttattoo I imagine any date with Dieter to be chaotic and El does such a great job of describing such an event here. I feel like a broken record with how many times I referred to it as such, but it really is a deliciously raunchy romp and I'd gladly go for Ray-Ban candy floss with Dieter any time if this is the end result.

Working Title (Dieter Bravo) by @rhoorl Finally got to reading this and devoured it all. It reads like a fabulous romance novel you’d read at the beach and then want to re-read again because it’s just that enjoyable! Plus the last chapter? My loins have not recovered lol, cannot wait for the next update!

Conversations with a Movie Star | Chapter 3 (Dieter Bravo) by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Aside from my own OC x Dieter, this pairing is hot on their heels for the title of favourite OC x Dieter. Ava keeps Dieter on his toes and has made herself at home at the Bravo Inn. The descriptions of landmarks in Myrtle Beach are fantastic, the chemistry is *chefs kiss*, and the way @gnpwdrnwhiskey writes Dieter 'Anthony' Bravo is fantastic. Please do take some time out to read this series - the premise alone is superb, you won't be disappointed - trust me!

Posts I Enjoyed This Week… Okay, so there's a reason this week's week in review is christened 'Sunday Thots' - the thots were out in force this week!

@goodwithcheese’s thread on the origin of Frankie’s oral skills

@beskarandblasters’s curation of creators with a smaller following

@legendary-pink-dot's Catfish Pond PHD program's latest curriculum, Pedro & Oscar

with Catfish PhD Logo, that I will figure out how to make into a shirt at some point 

@grogusmum doing the hard work for us and sending us all to horny jail

Jess’ deep dive on Grey Sweatpants Season with the Triple Frontier boys - thinking she should visit the Last of Us next 😏

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week… No competition this week the most enjoyable thing was the addition of Francesca 'Frankie' Cat to the Truly household...

This Week’s Song… Not much has been played this week, but if you saw my mood board for Salt Water last week- this is where the title takes itself from...

Happy Sunday all! Here's to a great week ahead! 💕 xx

[ladyveravincent]

The Song of the Wind

Excerpt from Chapter 9

Elain stumbled out of Rita’s, only to grab onto nothing as she breathed in the crisp autumn air. 

“Y’know, I nev’re,” she started, but a strong arm caught her before she fell face-first into the cobblestone below.

“ Oh! ‘ound you! Shhh.. Lain, Lainey, ha! ‘ts kay, ’ El,” he struggled to contain his amusement, the two drunker with laughter than alcohol.

“Shit! Oh shit, we gotta-” she leaned in to whisper, “we gotta get home somehow- I can’t walk, no! No! No!” her protests were interrupted when Azriel hauled Elain over his shoulder, and the two squealed in delight. 

“Put me down!” she laughed while her fists pounded onto his back.

“Archeron- you’re a goddamn drunk,” he slurred.

“Fuck you! You’re jealous I almos’,” she hiccuped, “won.” He swayed slightly as he walked down the cobblestone streets, the peaceful Velaris night so at odds with the rowdiness of the dance hall.

When it got too cold to swim, Az and Elain frequented Rita’s every night, trading their peaceful moments floating in the Sidra for lively reels across the dance floor. Elain was not surprised when Azriel proved to be an excellent dancer, and she swore no shadows swirled around him when music filled the room. But that night, Az made one crucial misstep. After they finished the first jig, he went to get them drinks; wine for her and whiskey for him.

“Oh thank you,” she said as her eyes widened in glee, and downed the whiskey in one gulp.

“No problem,” he murmured when she placed the empty glass in his hand.

“Whiskey is my favorite drink. I could drink it all night long.”

“If you were to do that, I think you’d be on the floor by the end of the night.” She scoffed and pinched his arm for his dry quip. 

“Wanna bet? You and me, see who can drink more glasses tonight.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

“Why not.”

Almost a bottle and a half later, they were falling off their chairs, but a competitive Azriel refused to forfeit and won by one glass. Somehow, Elain ended up on top of a table, and after some protests, Az relented and joined her. But, under their shared weight, the table completely broke, and after a deeply sincere apology and three bags of gold coins, the two could not catch a breath between their tears of laughter, so they stumbled out of Rita's to start the long journey home.

“If you keep walkin’ we’re gonna break our limbs." 

“Sure thing, my lady,” he chuckled and started to set her down. Suddenly, their flush faces were mere inches apart.

That autumn they both stood on a precipice that crumbled each moment they spent together. Both sought the other out; Elain often pretended to need help in the garden, and Azriel somehow always needed some rather specific herbal salve. Soon, they fell into a routine of spending their days together, praying the other was brave enough to step forward and say something.

For a moment when they stared at each other, all the world stood still, blushing and wide-eyed. It was now or never; she glanced down at his lips, he glanced down at hers, a breath between them, and then-

“Madam!” They turned their heads to see a Fae run up to them, Elain’s forgotten shawl in hand. 

“Oh! Thank you.” She blushed furiously as Az set her down on the ground, and the moment rode away on the chilly autumn wind. She wrapped her shawl around her to keep out the cold and turned back at him.

“We could- we could fly home,” she said shyly. In one moment, she was in his arms. The two had flown many times before; each time lived over and over in Elain’s memory, and each time she watched him in the sky, she desperately wished to join him. When she first met Azriel, once she got over the shock of his beauty, she marveled at his wings. 

One of the first things she asked him was:

“Can you truly fly?” And his gentle response opened her otherwise engaged heart.

“Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.”

“That’s very beautiful.” Just like you. 

Elain wondered what it must be like to fly. How freeing it must feel for a body to be weightless, to leave a limiting life on Earth and escape to the skies. Through her murky and tear-stained memory, she remembered the time he took her from the House of Wind to the Townhouse. Then, there were other moments where she tried not to let her obvious attachment become apparent and often resorted to short, polite conversations to pass the time in the skies. Despite her reserved demeanor, she loved the wind in her hair, stars, and moon a fish pole’s length away. But, they hadn’t flown in many, many months, and other things had soared to new heights. 

“Hold on tight,” he whispered before he shot up to the sky. Elain screamed joyfully as her hair fell out of its plait, the racing wind kissing her face.

“Close your eyes!” he cried over the singing wind. Azriel gently hooked his hands under his shoulders and locked his feet around her ankles, her body now completely horizontal in the sky. 

“Open!”

She was flying. 

She gasped as the wind carried them higher and higher, Velaris growing smaller and smaller below. She tasted clouds on her tongue and reached out her hand to capture their soft coolness, completely wrapped in their nimbus embrace. The wind whipped around them, its melody sweet and proud. Her body no longer held her down with such sorrows, she was weightless with joy. Something twinkled on the other side of the clouds, and as they flew higher and higher, they dove into an ocean of stars. 

“I’m flying!” she marveled, the brilliant stars within her reach. She could do nothing but scream and howl, harmonizing with his own shouts.

“I’m singing the song of the wind!” she cried as tears of joy and laughter mixed on her cheeks. The garden of stars sang to the moon, and the wind hummed along. 

“Look at you!” Az cried. Ever so carefully, he pulled her into his chest and guided her to crawl onto his back. As they leveled out, Elain rose to stand beneath his wings, raising her arms overhead. 

I am light. I am light. I am light.

She saw the heart of the Earth, the soul of the skies, and finally heard the melody of life’s greatest gift. That was the song of the wind; utter undying freedom.

She opened her arms wide, threw her head back, and screamed. Any higher and she could kiss the stars, the moon just within grasp.

~ A Court of Bones in Bloom A03

[sxnyarostova]

symbiosis

do i put this on ao3. anyways this is my velma/roxie fic i hope you enjoy i love them

Roxie Hart reckons that she’s going crazy. Consistently oscillating between this ingenious high and manic low, she never stays in either mood long enough to feel comfortable, to feel like she’s riding the wave of life. Touring’s hard work, something that takes a toll on both the mind and the body– Velma’s words, not hers–, but there’s typically no problem she can’t deal with when she’s got liquor on her hands. 

A glass of gin and a splash of icy water on clammy cheeks usually calm her right down: the combination doesn’t help her very much anymore, though. She’s taken this remedy a little too many times, which explains her growing resistance to its calming properties. These days, the only thing that truly ties off the frayed ends of her psyche with a pretty little ribbon is, well… Velma. 

Roxie doesn’t love her: it’s become a mantra over these past months spent ducking in and out of hotel after hotel and theatre after theatre. There’s the occasional pharmacist and gin joint as well, but that doesn’t count. 

Instead of doing whatever love entails– because how the hell is Roxie supposed to know what love is when she’s never seen it in action?–, they kiss, they fuck, and Velma disappears somewhere between midnight and eleven in the morning, or at whatever ungodly hour Roxie wakes up after a night of debauchery. It’s an understanding they’ve reached, something as sure as the lacquered planks beneath her feet, an aspirin tablet swallowed dry that leaves an indent in her throat long after it's worked its magic. It is not love. 

Roxie never did very well in school, but she’s making up for lost time. Touring means that she spends a lot of time in a train carriage with Velma, who smokes, drinks, stretches, and reads magazines: there isn’t exactly a way for Roxie to kindle a conversation when Velma gets all quiet like that, so she’d gotten her hands on a book about animal behaviour, of all things, from a dressing room somewhere in Illinois

It’s interesting, with little tidbits about interspecies relationships. Take predator-prey, for example; it’s one she’d known all about even before she cracked open the dusty tome. It’s kill or get killed in America, after all: a girl has gotta have learned something after she’s fended for herself in this cesspool of a country for this long. 

But symbiosis is something she’s never heard of before, and she reckons after a brief skim of the chapter that Velma Kelly excels at whatever this professor is banging on about. Somehow, regardless of how the other is involved in her affairs, Velma Kelly always, always comes out on top; she’s the symbiote, the organism that gains something even if she’s leeching blood, leaving trails of her venom in somebody else’s blood, or spreading diseases left, right and centre.

It’s infuriating, but Roxie finds herself crawling back to Velma’s bed anyway. When you’re desperate for something to curb the restless ticks that haunt your head, you’ll do anything.

(She still remembers the panic that had risen in her throat after that first night, when she’d woken swaddled in sheets, sitting in the most fragrant viper’s nest known to man. Roxie had always known that she was going to spend her days scorching in hellfire– murder didn’t grant you a seat by Jesus– but she wasn’t ready to be indicted into the Devil’s inner circle. Surely there was something wrong and sinful about what she’d done with Velma the night before; surely there were scriptures in the Bible that forbade women from touching like that. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Velma had asked as Roxie scrambled for her robe, which lay in a crumpled heap of velvet on the hotel carpet. Despite her casual tone, an undercurrent of venom lazed beneath Velma’s words. “Were you faking those giggles last night, Roxie Hart? Are you considering leaving vaudeville and busting into Hollywood with your affected little squeals?” 

“I– no!” Roxie mumbled, blindly throwing her arms through their respective sleeves. “I’m fine. I really am fine. Last night was… new, that’s all.” She blinked, brushed a flyaway curl back into place, and offered Velma a blinding smile. 

“I thought new things didn’t scare you: always considered you a modern girl.” Velma raised an eyebrow as she stopped in front of the vanity, fingers deftly securing a double string of pearls around her neck. She fixed the clasp before latching her eyes onto Roxie’s ruddy complexion, her bob swishing by her ears like a beaded curtain. “I know what this is. You’re thinking about sinning, ain’t you?”

Roxie hated how Velma seemed to have her entire world and all its inhabitants figured out. Life was nothing but a jigsaw puzzle to Miss Velma Kelly, and every piece she put down always managed to lock into place. “...Well, don’t you ever think about sinning?” Roxie said, fiddling with the sash of her robe. “I don’t know how often you fuck blonde girls who you met in a jail cell, but—”

Velma guffawed. “I stopped repenting when I was twelve, sweetheart. The only compass I’ve got is my heart.” She gave her chest a gentle thump. “Whichever way it aims is where I’ll go, and if it’s pointing in your direction—” she threw her hands up as if to say ‘what the Hell’ “—then that’s where I’m headed ‘til it tells me otherwise.” 

“Oh,” Roxie said, brows furrowing. “Well, I– I don’t know. I–”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Roxie nodded, platinum hair bouncing earnestly around her face. 

“And did you feel like it was wrong when it happened?” 

Despite the condescension in Velma’s tone, Roxie found it in her to respond, shaking her head no. 

“I don’t see what the problem is, then,” Velma said, sitting primly atop the vanity. “You see, sex is a little like murder. If you felt justified when you did it, you don’t have to worry your pretty little head off about it.” She held up a flask, glinting silver in the noontime sun. “Care for a little pick-me-up?” )

Roxie wonders if Velma’s a drug of sorts or an exorcist with the blessing of some twisted God who likes helping murderesses stave off their guilty consciences. She’ll be tearing out her hair one moment and laughing the next: as soon as Velma’s teeth meet the lobe of her ear, the crowding voices that haunt Roxie’s head dissipate into nothing but malevolent spirits, melding into the atmosphere. 

She sighs, pulling another cigarette from the open box in her robe pocket and slipping it into her mouth. Velma, Roxie muses, needs her for the success of their marquee-lining act: she needs Velma for all the wrong reasons. Roxie uncaps the lipstick on her bureau, gives the base a tiny twist, and begins absentmindedly applying another layer: she doesn’t know why she bothers. Her lips are plump and red enough, and Velma’s practised lips remove any traces left after a night of performing. It’s just therapeutic, she supposes, the feeling of wax sliding across her lips. 

“You ready?”

The lipstick in her hand deviates from its trajectory and streaks across her face. “Jesus, Vel,” Roxie hisses, hastily rushing to a mirror and rubbing away the runaway line of red. “You ever learned to knock?”

“What difference would it make? I’d still come in regardless of your response,” Velma shrugs. She grins, pulls out a tissue from a nearby box, and passes it into Roxie’s waiting hands. She is striking in her costume, kitted out in a dark leotard with obsidian garters that blossom against her skin. “Well? Are you ready, kid?”

“Yeah,” Roxie grumbles. She gives her curls one last fluff, readjusts her own pearly pair of stockings, and tosses the tissue into the bin. “But– Velma? Before we go? Can you–?”

Her mind is running circles at the thought of performing. If she thinks long and hard about it, Roxie’s been a performer her whole life. She’s acted for her parents from the age of five and for her prospective beaus from the age of fifteen, doing the former out of fear and the latter out of a deep-seated desire for security. She’d acted when she was on trial, too, and frankly speaking, Roxie’s exhausted. 

She needs someone to remind her that she’s Roxie Hart, and the only person who can do that is Velma, with her kisses and brass comments and the behavior that she only displays when she’s around Roxie. Velma Kelly is Roxie’s savior; the lighthouse in the distance, the shore that Roxie longs to find after hours spent in the water. This is symbiosis. 

Velma pecks Roxie on the cheek without another word. 

[casualhedonists]

My girlfriend (ohstardew) started gushing about this story one day and I asked for the link because I was curious, and I can’t tell the amount of times we’ve chatted about it since as I’ve read through it to catch up. I wanted to share my thoughts in a comment so:

— Your writing is stellar. I can’t say this enough, it’s full of tension and drive, well-paced and with dialogue that feels like it is covering two layers at once. You embody need and lust with such a deft hand. — The power play in part 3 leading into their heated exchange, my god, the tension between them, the back and forth. You get the emotional beats down so well in this, this slow build heightening towards what we inevitably want to happen (even though I was biting my hand expecting it) — The start of part 4 with Snow was excellent hook to get me jumping into the story with bated breath and excitement. The way the reader raises the stakes, never easing up on the barbs and jabs and little daggers thrown his way, riling him up, oh it’s so good. — “Because I think you like chasing me.” This hits so hard and it’s such a good thematic statement of their dynamic. — The scene where she’s in his room showering and using his cologne… It’s such a small thing but it definitely is up there in my favorite parts of this whole story. — ok wait sorry for the full quote but “You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin” (and its entire paragraph) is such good prose. I re-read it several times to savour it fully. The toxic jealousy that begins running at full steam ahead from this scene too, how it draws them closer into this messy spiral! Delicious. — It’d be remiss to not talk about the sex but the rising tension and climax it’s so good my brain kind of short-circuits. Getting Snow to snap and do it was such a deliciously long tease, the excitement paying off in the long run. (Sidebar but the warnings are good, thank you.) — The world-building and details you infuse into this makes it come alive so well. I cannot overstate how much it adds to the story, and how vividly it jumps off the screen because of that. It makes the reader-character feel more fleshed out and realized as an actual character anchored in the world, and had me hooked from the first chapter. There’s something to her that makes me root for her to get the one-up on Snow at times, even though I KNOW. That’s the power of your writing! — When she finds the drawer.. It felt like everything fell out from underneath her, in the most tantalizing and thrilling way possible. The heel turn in his treatment, the fury and rage and power oozing from him as he becomes so mean and nasty, it’s amazing. The sheer humiliation of how he treats her and yet she reacts the way she does!!!! (I think you did great navigating that dubcon scene fwiw. Really well balanced.) — You navigate smut and all its physical intricacies, the shame and want, the lust and filth, with pinpoint precision. I was re-reading trying to pick out a specific moment I liked the most, and really, all of it is so good it’s hard to choose. But the way you write Snow paying so much attention to the clit is top-tier. I keep lingering on that detail each time I read a scene, because it’s so perfect. It hits in all the right ways.

Finally, I appreciate all you do with this story. I could wait months if necessary, as long as you get the time you need to comfortably write. Thank you so much for sharing this.

best. ask. EVER.

oh my god. i absolutely was squealing reading this, i was so excited for your comment (your gf told me you were reading the fic despite it not being your usual go to pairing and so i was equally nervous and excited!! i know you’re a fellow writer too so i was anticipating your thoughts all the more) what an utter delight to wake up to.

i’m so beyond happy you enjoyed the fic so much, honestly can’t begin to describe how happy it made me reading through your thoughts!! and pls don’t apologise for quoting me back bc that’s my absolute favorite thing to see, best feedback imo is seeing which parts stuck out to people!! esp when the coincide with the parts i myself really loved writing.

chapter three is probably my favorite i can’t lie. she’s my little baby, i’m so proud of the dialogue there bc it’s something i used to struggle a lot with in the past so it was a benchmark of sorts! i’m so happy you enjoyed the prose as well as the little details. i love world building and sometimes wonder if it’s too much so i’m extra glad i stuck to my guns here.

hearing encouragement on the smut aspect too is like. THE best compliment, bc this is my first time posting smut, let alone a whole series full. so i love hearing what you enjoyed and i’ll absolutely be taking that into account going forward as i navigate the final chapter!! also so happy you liked the dubcon scene, your gf might have mentioned i was anxious as all hell working my way around that but ultimately im v happy with how it turned out.

again, thank you so so much for such a fleshed out comment, it means more than you could possibly know. as i’m sure you know being a fellow writer the process can really tire you out leaving you sort of numb to the content you’ve written, at a certain point while editing i start to question if any of it is even Good, but comments like yours really cement in why i do this and why i stick it out 🤍🤍🤍🤍

[izayoizuki]

Mine To Keep Ch. 2

GIF by thorinsbeard

Pairing: Hangman x F!Mitchell!Reader

In which there is talking. So much talking.

Wordcount: ~3.8K

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist || AO3 || The Receipts Universe

Chapter 2: Going To The Mattresses

You shouldered open the storm door, calling out to your Godmother.

"Roro!"

"In here, honey!" You heard her distinctive voice, and that in itself was enough to make you feel like everything was going to be ok. Carole was excellent at doing that.

You walked into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively at the smell of cookies in the air. Your Godmother wasn't exactly domestic- oh, she and your godfather managed the house better than alright, but she wasn't going to be any threat to Martha Stewart anytime soon- but what she lacked in domesticity she made up for in vigour and determination. Everything she did she gave it her all, and her all was often wonderful; so whenever she got a baking bee in her bonnet, your whole family was highly appreciative.

"You're here!" Carole exclaimed as you walked into her line of sight, and gave a squeal at the flowers you held out to her with a grin. "For me? Oh, you shouldn't have! They're wonderful!" She sunk her face into the blooms and inhaled appreciatively, as if she didn't know they were from the little mart on the way home. "They're gorgeous! Honestly baby, if you were a guy, I'd leave Goose for you." She hugged you as your body shook with giggles; you knew better than to believe her. All the gold in the world wouldn't entice her to leave your godfather.

"C'mon, come up here," she hiked herself on the kitchen island and patted for you to sit on the other side of the L, a tray of still warm cookies between you. "I heard you slam the door, and drive away on that terrible beast of yours, and I knew something wasn't normal." She picked up a cookie and handed it to you before picking up one herself. "Actually I knew when I woke up this morning. The clouds hung all still in this weird way, and I just knew." She got straight to the point in that precisely roundabout way of hers. "Tell me everything!" Her tone was light, but you recognised it for what it was, a command.

And you were super good at obeying hers. So you promptly spilled your guts, breaking into tears now and again even though you tried really hard to stay level. Carole pulled you into her shoulder, rubbing your back. "My poor baby. Pete shouldn't have said those things. He means well, but that wasn't the way to talk." It felt so good to have her taking your side that you just cried harder; you were sure you were soaking her t-shirt but you couldn't bring yourself to neither care nor stop. Your stuttered inhales took in the comforting scent of her, of garden flowers and clean cotton and soft shampoo, and it helped you calm down. You must have been loud enough though, because Bradley ambled in, scratching his tummy absentmindedly.

"You know what your problem is?" He looked you in the little bit of eye peeking from Carole's shoulder, and you shook your head slightly. He opened the fridge and took out a jug. "You're having those cookies without milk." That got a chuckle out of you, and a guffaw out of his mom.

"Go with Bradley, sweetheart. You can sleep in your room if you like, it's all set up." She made shooing motions with her hands. "I'll talk to Pete, don't worry. And take these away from me, I shouldn't be eating so many of them so late." She handed you the tray. You wanted to be a big girl, but you couldn't bring yourself to even protest her stepping in. Carole had a way of making your dad see when very little else could. Your mom had that gift too, you thought sadly, but you shoved that thought away before it got any bigger. Instead you hopped off the counter, carrying the tray while Roo carried the milk glasses, heading to the rocking chairs on the back porch.

You set the tray on the little table between the chairs, easing into the chair and staring out; you could see glimpses of the beach from here, and you tried to find exactly where the sky and sea met, only to get distracted by the stars. The silence was comfortable, and Roo was being considerate, matching his pace to your rock.

Finally he broke the silence. "You know Unca means well, right?" 

"Roo, I don't wanna-" 

"I know, I know, believe me, I know." He waved a hand and let his head drop back, watching motes of air wander in front of the little porch light. "I'm saying that I know it may seem like everything really is like what he's saying, but it's not. Or well, it is, but it's also the way you see it." He huffed before trying to figure out the words he was going for, determined to make sense. "It's like, ok, you ever know how in class we had to write those book report things after we all read the book together?" You hummed to let him know you were following him; you and Bradley had been in the same English lit class for one year because you were "ahead of your grade level" and "under-stimulated" and "disruptive"- or so quoth your report card anyway. "Ok, you remember how we would think something, and sometimes the other kids would have a completely different opinion? And their opinion kinda makes sense right? But at the same time it doesn't make it the only right idea, right?" Bradley gestured wildly with his hands, and you cocked your head to watch him. "Anyway, what I'm trying to tell you is that, I've got your back ok? Like even if you wanna become a stinky old ornery lady, I've got your back." You teared up. Bradley was clumsy, and there had been a time in your teenagehood where you’d really seen where Cain had been coming from, but age had helped him out a lot, and to give credit, he always made an effort. He reached over and tugged your earlobe, making you smile, and you reached over to ruffle his hair. "Makes you laugh, doesn't it?"

You looked at him, cocking an eyebrow in question. "You know, between us, we tried both routes, navy and non-navy, and both made our dads unhappy." That got a giggle out of you. 

You raised your glass and clinked his, "To our dumb dads." Bradley clinked and toasted back, and you both grabbed a cookie and settled back. A wash of calm settled over you. Yeah, the past couple of years had been absolutely terrible, but you had your family at your back. You didn't know how long after, but Bradley was nudging your foot with his. 

"Hey, you asleep? Oh no no no, you're not falling asleep here." He grabbed the back of your collar with one hand, grabbing the cookie sheet with the other, before frog-marching you to the guest bedroom, which was for all intents and purposes yours, depositing the cookies on the coffee table as you both passed it by. He shoved you under the covers, waiting for a moment to make sure you were fully in. 

He started to walk away, but turned around, grasping your upper arm. "You're not allowed to do anything stupid, ok? You're the only little sister I got." He gave you a slight shake.

"Love ya too bud." You mumbled as a reply. Satisfied, he walked away.

*******************

Carole sat on the front porch with her first, most magical, most precious coffee of the day, glad that she was a morning person, especially when she thought about how her two kids weren’t, nor were her husband or brother-in-law. It was blissful to sit in the day before it truly came into its own, to watch fate decide the way it would shape destiny and see it manifest in every ray of dawn that broke across the dark night.

Today she wasn’t going to be as left alone as usual though; she could almost feel the ground thunder before she saw them riding up the little crest of the hill to their house. They parked, dismounted, and the early morning glow bathing them sent Carole back; it was as if time had faded away, and she was looking at the boys they had been decades ago, the boyish grins, the effortless banter, the sheer exuberance as they bounded up the steps to her. Nick kissed her, an I’m home kiss, a kiss he continued to perfect every day of their marriage, before tiptoeing through the storm door, and Pete bent to her cheek. She quickly clipped the edge of his jacket as he straightened, eyes pointing to the rocker beside her.

Maverick raised an eyebrow but slid easily into the rocker.

“You remember how she used to get Bradley to put her in a duvet case and swing her around?” Carole started, apropos of just about absolutely nothing, in a way that meant it was absolutely about something, and it made all the short little hairs on the back of Mav’s head stand up even as slouched himself into a comfortable position.

“Don’t even remind me. Then she got Bradley to climb into the duvet case and tried to swing him. He had a good fifteen pounds on her, at least.”

“And then she got Bradley to do that whole dance with her? On the roof?”

“To Christy Spears?”

“Britney Spears.”

“Didn’t they steal your halter tops for that?”

“And that time in English Lit where they got their class to have a protest coup?” Carole smiled indulgently, dreamily. This was a path of memories well trod on. “We used to tag team the kids’ parent teacher meetings something fierce back then.”

“I recall you did a lot of the heavy lifting in that arena, yeah.” Mav quietly reached a hand out for the coffee cup.

“Give yourself some credit,” Carole passed it along to him, watching as he took a sip and grimaced at how cold it was by now, “you and Goose came as often as possible. Not to mention the number of times you bailed out the two of them.” the smile came through in her voice.

“Oh God. I practically had to grovel. Four star admirals haven’t worked me over that hard. And that time in eighth grade…” Maverick trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah, and you remember the comments?” 

“Oh yeah…” He adopted the nasally tone of the principal, “Ms. Mitchell shows great promise, but is not living up to her potential. Ms. Mitchell makes careless mistakes.” He shifted to make eye contact with Carole as they both intoned, “Ms. Mitchell does not test well.” they both cracked up over the memory, trying to keep their cackles quiet.

“Damn near had a heart attack when they called me in about her IEP. I thought it was something terminal.” Maverick's smile remained on as the laughter petered out, but his eyes had that look in them, no matter how much he insisted that he only had one look.

“It was all so different, especially after our experience with Bradley. I swear that boy has elevator music playing in his head sometimes.”

“You should see him fly, Ro. He’s like a sleeper agent that comes alive when he’s in that cockpit.” He looked down into the now-iced coffee cup. “She’d have been a great pilot. I’ve seen her in my ‘stang, she’s good, she has the instincts. That overthinking brain of hers was made for it.”

“I’ve no doubt. But Pete, do you think she’d have survived to get to that point? Hell, do you think you’d leave anyone alive if anyone treated her the way you were treated? Not to mention how she would have done emotionally. She puts earthworms back into the grass, Mav.” Carole placed her hand on Maverick’s cuff. “She doesn’t test well, Pete.” her voice was soft, reminding rather than accusing. “She’s got principles she’s trying to live by, and we have to be the ones who have her back.” She unknowingly echoed her son from just a few hours ago. 

“I know, it’s just-” Pete broke off, head in his hands as he tried to vent his frustration. “My job is all I know- it’s all I can do for her- and it’s only a matter of time- and it’s just me…” every one of his fears and worries came bubbling up, fighting for priority and prominence and he couldn't voice a single one of them to completion, partly because there was just so much and partly because he was terrified, not so deep down, that by saying them out loud he would somehow speak them into existence. 

Carole gathered his head to her shoulder with an easy arm. “Well, I hate to be the one to break it to ya, Pete, but you’re wrong on all counts there. We’ve been through a lot, and we’ll go through a lot more if we have to.” She gave him a squeeze. “Although, gawd, I hope we don’t have to.”

**********

Your body stirred as you felt the edge of the bed dip, before a soft voice spoke up. 

“Hey, kid.” You had to hand it to your dad- even though you were upset with him at the moment- he had a good dad voice. It was nice and soft, good for bedtime stories and corny jokes-

Your train of thought cut off as you felt and heard the curtains being ripped open, letting the full glare of the California sun pounce on you. You gave a wordless scream of rage and tried to bury yourself in the pillow. You took it back, your dad was an as-

You felt the bed dip again, this time Mav lay alongside you on top of the covers, hands behind his head. He spoke up to the ceiling. “I said a lot of things last night, didn’t I?”

You weren’t going to answer him. 

“Well, here’s the thing. I’m sorry about the way I spoke. And I said a lot of unnecessary shit too. But I’m not mad about what I did.”

“It’s called nepotism, dad.” Shit, you weren’t going to speak to him. And was that what he called an apology? The nerve of this man…

“First of all, there’s no more nepotism to this than through any recruitment drive. I didn’t lean on anyone. I didn’t talk to anyone. I didn’t mention it to anyone at all. They wanted someone who matched your skillset, and I simply slipped in your resume. The biggest clue is the fact that we share the same last name, and it’s not like we have a rare one. It’s not my fault they decided on you.”

“But it’s the navy-”

“It’s a diplomatic tour, sweetheart. Isn’t this what you’re always talking about? Keeping lines of communications open? Resolving international situations with tact rather than force? So what if we have a big stick with us as insurance?”

“That’s a mighty big stick.” you muttered darkly.

“I’ll give you that. But think of this as the start. If we all do our jobs real well, maybe someday there won’t be a need for any stick at all.”

You didn’t have a reply to that, so you kept your silence. 

“How about this: you come on as a contracted specialist. After this is done, it’s done. You choose what you want to do next. And I will never do something like this again. Just one shot kid. For your dad. For your granddad.”

You groaned. Your dad never trotted out the granddad thing, which made the whole request that much more potent. You knew how your dad felt about your granddad, about the circumstances of his death. Just as you knew you now had to take the job.

“Fine.” you sighed. “Now get off my blanket so I can shower.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your forehead before jackknifing up and off. “Oh, wear something you can move around in, I wanna get more plane parts from that nice Korean guy and I need you to translate.” you couldn’t help but let out a grumble, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “How about we get some breakfast first?”

*******

You’d showered, worn jeans and an old old old teenage mutant ninja turtles t-shirt that was so soft it could have been a baby blanket, shared brunch- his a whole diner breakfast, yours cheese fries and pancakes (you still have the diet of a five year old/ wow gee thanks mr. fourth-cup-of-coffee/ isn’t that your third cup, ms. pot?)- with your dad, and translated back and forth as your dad got the part for the mustang p-51 he was constantly repairing or upgrading. Their conversation, which had devolved into something completely tangential (you’d somehow started translating on autopilot, and you were sure the words Alan Alda had left your mouth at some point) had gone on long enough that you didn’t have time to work on the plane itself. Instead, you were being dropped off at the mall to help Goose.

“What am I helping him with again?”

“I don’t know, he’s not really saying anything, but he’s pretty worked up, whatever it is.” He stopped in front of a cafe. “He’s gonna meet you here. He insisted it was you, whatever it was.” 

"Ok, now you're making me anxious."

"Just...Be good.” He reached out his hand to pinch your cheek.

“I always am.”

**********

You sat at a cute little table with a piece of tiramisu and a deep, rich espresso which you definitely weren't going to tell your dad about. Your godfather wasn't the most punctual- it wasn't that he didn't want to be, but he has the attention span of a goldfish and a desire to help everyone whose path he crossed, and so he frequently got waylaid.

"We have got to stop meeting like this." It was Sugarpie in August, and just like last time, your head whipped round, suppressing the urge to reach for your aviators as he speared you with his golden smile, coming to stand behind you, giving you an ache in your pre-aged neck.

"Sit, you're giving me a crick." you pushed out the other chair with your foot, and he trotted over obediently with a quietly smug little "Yes'm" that did something odd to your heart.

"The navy's trained you well." You teased him. 

"Yeah? Come with me and I'll show you roll over too." He grinned unrepentantly as if he could see the way your heart fluttered at his words, and you found it contagious, your lips curving up to match his even as your brain told you to get out of the whole thing. You’d been able to not pay attention to it last night between the fight with your dad, Bradley’s return, and everything else in the middle, but the fact of the matter was, guys like Sugarpie and girls like you didn’t mix. Or to be more accurate, they mixed, but it always ended up belonging to a dumpster fire.

"So what is it you do…" you were fairly certain whom you were speaking to, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Hangman," he supplied easily.

"Yowch," you pretended to be surprised, "your parents hate you or something?"

His grin got wider, which you hadn't thought was possible, and smugger, which was even more of a feat, as he replied. "Nope, it's my callsign, I'm a naval aviator." Then he flicked his gaze to the sweet cloud of cream and coffee in front of you. “That any good?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, flyboy.”

“Wanna share?” 

“Wanna be maimed?”

“Listen, I’m just saying,” Since when had he had that toothpick in his mouth? And why was he that adept at manoeuvering it around? “If we share it, and we like it, we can get more. And if we don’t like it, we’ll’ve cut our losses.” 

Apparently he was really good at both, crimes against the English language via contracting words, and making persuasive arguments, because you heard yourself say “Fine,” even as you felt your soul leave your body. “But you’re getting your own fork, and your own drink.” a boundary, that’s what you were establishing, a healthy boundary. 

Healthy boundary your ass. 

"Fair enough. So which turtle is your favourite?" he gestured to your shirt with his fork as he pulled the plate towards him. 

You looked down to your torso and then back at him. Where had he gotten that fork from? You snapped back into focus "Go on three?"

He put up three fingers.

Three.

Two. 

One.

"Mikey!" You both chorused.

"Why?" He was grinning that terrible, horrible, no good grin of his as he stabbed through the pristine pastry.

"He’s sassy and adorable and dual wielding. And fast. So fast." you were fully aware that you sounded like a 4 year old explaining their top 3 favourite dinosaurs but you were thankful that you didn’t come off even more incoherent in light of the human equivalent of the full blast of the sun. Small mercies. Very small mercies. You oneshotted your espresso.

"You have a thing for speed, huh? What's the fastest thing you've ever seen?" He licked his fork. Confident he could steer the conversation to his impressive exploits one way or another no matter how contrived the shoehorning was. But you were entranced by the very pink, very nice- were tongues nice? Was that a thing?- tongue that had played hide-and-seek with the fork, and you followed the utensil’s path down, down-

And realised that the ratfink was well on his way to eating most of your dessert, and that snapped you back like nothing else ever, possibly, could.

"I could tell you,” you pulled the plate back to yourself, “but I'd have to kill you." Hangman threw his head back and laughed.

Perhaps not strictly true, but judging by the number of NDAs you'd had to sign before witnessing your dad become the fastest man alive (or so Hondo had said, but you had questions; what about astronauts for instance?), death would be the more merciful option. So you just stared at Hangman, unperturbed.

“Good one.” He caught the look on your face. “Wait, what?”

Just then you heard a goose honk and looked outside to your godfather sitting in his boat of a car, waving.

"Who’s that?"

You shoved the remaining portion of the tiramisu into your mouth as you grabbed your bag, rushing out, and answered his final question over your shoulder. "My godfather."

taglist: @therebeccaw @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @dempy

[tabsters]

SOMEONE LIKE ME (CHAP. 9) - A STARGLASS ZODIAC X ZODIAC EXPERIMENT CROSSOVER

i had to split this chapter into two parts cause i just kept writing so many fucking words—

previous chapter is here

next chapter is here

masterpost is here

tagging @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @maiawhimsicalt and @sweet-star-cookie

Cassie's outfit fitting took significantly less time than Gemini's, partly because there were less dresses to choose from. She also held a lot more still while Columba dusted a small amount of blush and concealer across her cheeks. 

"If we had more time, we could've custom-made a dress for you," Columba lamented, holding up a dark purple off the shoulder dress. "But we unfortunately do not have such luxuries."

"No, I think gold suits her better," Cygnus said, holding up a gold and black striped dress. "Compliments her eyes."

"She'll look like a bee!" Columba protested, pulling out a bright blue mermaid dress and holding out in front of her. "Blue. Matches her eyes."

"Do the red one!" Gemini shouted from where she was floating in the corner, out of Cassie's sight. "The one with the cape!"

Cygnus rummaged around some more, before pulling out a long sleeved red dress, hemmed with white fur on the edges and accompanied with a slightly darker red cape. Cassie was immediately reminded of Leo, who wore a similar dress. 

I wonder how Leo's doing without me. I wonder how everyone else is doing without me.

"How 'bout it, Cassie?" Gemini asked, startling Cassie out of her thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I like that one the best." Cassie nodded in agreement.

"Excellent decision." Cygnus placed the dress and cape into Cassie's arms. "The Kingdom of Aigokeros is always very cold, so this should help with the chill."

"Oh, wear these boots too."  Columba set a pair of matching fur-trimmed boots at Cassie's feet. They had little pom-poms hanging off of the boot collar. 

Cassie picked up the boots with one hand, cradling her dress in the other, stumbling into the changing room. She changed into the dress, and the warm fabric was softer than anything she'd ever worn. The hem fell to about calf-length, and the cape draped around her ankles. The boots were also very soft and went up to her knees. She certainly wouldn't be freezing anytime soon.

"How's it look?" Cassie asked, sweeping back the curtain. 

Both Columba and Cygnus squealed in delight. 

"Adorable!"

"So precious!"

"Not bad," Gemini said, looking Cassie over. "Could use a little...somethin' extra, though. Lemme see what I can find."

She went over to her vanity, opening several drawers, looking for something. She let out a little "aha!" when she found what she was looking for—a brass hair clip in the shape of a star. 

"Here, lemme see." Gemini twisted a couple strands of Cassie's hair into a braid crown, pinning it in the back with the clip. "There we go. Take a look." 

She stepped back so Cassie could look at herself in the mirror.

"Whoa." She looked...really pretty and sophisticated. She couldn't remember the last time she dressed up this fancy. "I look...really good!"

"Yeah, you do!" Gemini softly patted Cassie's head, so as not to disturb her hair. "Hope you're ready to dance a lot in that. Although knowing Capricorn, she's probably gonna make us all slow dance to classical music." She blew a raspberry and stuck her thumbs down. "Bo-ring!" 

"Classical music is a rather amazing genre, Your Grace," Pegasus suddenly said, reappearing out of nowhere. She had changed into a light brown three piece suit, with golden buttons and chains as well as a dark red tie. "Perhaps if you practiced your piano more, you would come to appreciate it."

Gemini opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by someone knocking at the door. Columba hurried to open it. Standing in the doorway was Ophiuchus, wearing a floor-length dark green ball gown with black accents. Asclepius was curled around her neck like some type of sentient boa.

"Everyone ready to go?" She asked, walking into the room and kissing Gemini on the cheek. Asclepius raised their head and hissed at Cassie, bobbing their head up and down enthusiastically. 

Gemini flushed pink, took Ophiuchus' hand, and kissed the top of it. "Lead the way, m'lady." 

-

"Oh my lord, she really went all out for this one."

Cassie stepped through the portal leading to Capricorn's palace, and gasped. Capricorn's throne room was filled with people, all dressed up in their finery. The room was notably larger than Gemini's, and it was decorated with all manner of wreaths and tinsel. 

"Over here." Ophiuchus laid a hand on Cassie's shoulder and led her through the hordes of people to the ballroom. Gemini grabbed for Ophiuchus' free hand, and her advisors filed in behind her. 

The ballroom was enormous, crowded with people talking and dancing, and the sound of a live orchestra infused the air. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and candles were set in large, ornate candelabras. Through the windows, Cassie could see huge mountains in the distance, their peaks topped with pure white snow. 

"Wow." Cassie took a few steps, disoriented by the vastness of it all. 

"Right, what do we do now?" Gemini asked, smoothing down her dress. 

Pegasus pointed towards a lone figure standing near one of the dining tables. She was wearing a simple black dress with a white fur boa around her neck. "Now, we say hello to our host."

Gemini sighed, but resolutely began marching in Capricorn's direction. The rest of them followed.

"Hello, Capricorn," Gemini said, sinking into a curtsy. The others followed suit, and so Cassie awkwardly copied them. 

Capricorn nodded towards them. "As you were. Hello, Gemini. Pegasus. Columba, Cygnus. And..." She looked towards Cassie. "Cassie. I don't believe we've had a chance to properly meet." 

"It's lovely to meet you, ma'am." Cassie clasped her hands together nervously. "You have a beautiful palace."

Capricorn nodded again. She seemed so much more serious than Cassie's own Capricorn, who always had a sly remark or a clever joke to say. 

"Capri!" A voice shouted, jolting Cassie out of her thoughts. "There you are!" 

A woman in a pale pink dress was running up to them, as fast as her long dress could allow. One man with dark blue hair, wearing an olive green suit, and glasses was chasing after her. A woman wearing a black halter dress and a blindfold ambled after them, her sleek black hair and wings swinging behind her. Cassie recognized the first woman as Taurus. 

"Ah, hello, love." Capricorn held out her arms and Taurus rushed into them, pressing a small kiss to her wife's cheek.

"Ew, couples." Gemini made a face, and got gently slapped by Ophiuchus for her troubles. 

"Your Highness, might I suggest not running around in a long dress?" The blue haired man asked, having caught up. "These silks are nigh irreplaceable." 

"Hi, Gemini and co!" Taurus said cheerfully, ignoring the man. This one behaved much more like her own Taurus. "And—oh, hi Cassie!" She held her hand out for Cassie to shake, and Cassie shook it. She waved her hand at the man. "This is Pavo, my advisor." 

The man bowed, and a bright green peacock tail flared up behind him. "Pavo, advisor of the Kingdom of Tauros." His voice was overly polite, which Cassie found a bit suspicious. She didn't miss how Pegasus shot him a scathing glare and then quickly turned away. 

"I need a drink," Pegasus muttered, walking off. Pavo squinted at her, scoffed, and turned away in the opposite direction.

"This is Corvus," Capricorn said as the woman in black walked up to them, breaking the awkward silence. "My own advisor." 

Corvus curtsied, and Cassie noticed that her blindfold was dark mesh. The woman's eyes, through the blindfold, looked a faint, pale gray. Cassie thought back to her own Corvus, who was Virgo's companion, not Capricorn's. He was significantly less stiff in posture, and had a crow's head as a head and crow's wings as arms. 

"At your service," Corvus said, her voice soft and melodic. Columba and Cygnus squealed and hurried forward, grabbing the woman's hands and dragging her away excitedly. 

Capricorn shook her head in amusement. "Young love." 

“We were like that once as well.” Taurus laid her head against Capricorn’s shoulder. “Remember?”

“Seems like so long ago,” Capricorn said, leaning into Taurus’ touch. 

A servant walked up to the group with a platter of drinks. “Champagne?” They asked, holding them out.

They looked noticeably different than the Zodiacs and constellations Cassie had already seen. Their skin was white and slightly translucent, and their hair was wispy and gold. Their sclera was black, and their iris was dark green. 

The older women each took a glass, raising them in a toast before drinking.

“Who was that?” Cassie asked, addressing Capricorn. “They look different from the constellations and Zodiacs I’ve seen.”

Capricorn nodded. “A star spirit. Mortal spirits who have reincarnated into this world. They're different from Zodiacs and constellations because when they die, they will reincarnate back into the mortal world. A beautiful process of life.”

“They look different based on which Zodiac rules over them. That one is a Capricorn,” Gemini added. “Judging by the combination of skin, hair, and eye colors.”

Cassie studied Ophiuchus for a bit. She had snow white skin, snakeskin stippling the left half of her face, and her pupils were slanted like that of a snake’s. She looked distinctly more animal-like. Could she be a star spirit that had somehow gained constellation status?

“Hey, Ophiuchus?” Cassie asked, looking up at the woman. “Are you a star spirit?”

check out @sweet-star-cookie's starglass zodiac lore if you liked this!! questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!