#i love him i love you i love prompts i love all of this ANYWAYS

[anathemaspeaks]

having a pillow fight and it ends in a Makeout with Bakugou please? >.<

check out my prompt list and request stuff!

feathers flew around the room as a pillow was flung straight at your face by none other than bakugou katsuki, who was standing across you, a wide grin on his face on seeing that he hit his target.

"oh, it is so on bakagou!" you asserted, a defiant, flustered look on your face.

"don't call me that, shitty woman!" he moved to pick up a pillow again - only to be stopped midway, a pillow hitting him square on the back of his head.

"loser!" you cheered, a triumphant smirk on your face, ignoring the fact that he barely felt the impact. why was he so fucking strong?

damn him and those god-like muscles that you could see through his tight, black t-shirt. oh to be sandwiched between his biceps, you thought, as you saw him lift his arm up to fix his now messy ash blonde hair.

his crimson eyes looked at you, calculating his next move. but you beat him to it, running over to him and whacking him with another pillow repeatedly.

what you weren't expecting was for his big, strong arms to circle around your waist and tackle you onto the bed. pillow still in your arms, and hair all over the place, you were now caged between him and the bed. a slow smirk spread across his face.

"not so cocky now are ya, brat?"

one of his hands moved from its place next to your head down to your waist, lifting up your shirt. you were fully red at this point, his hot touch flooding your entire body with warmth.

and then he started tickling you.

"wha- k-katsu stop!" you managed, laughing so hard tears were almost coming out of your eyes.

"weren't you the smartass calling me 'bakagou' a second ago?" he contested, a wide grin that he couldn't fight overtaking his handsome features anyway.

and then you thought of a better idea.

"katsuki-" and with all the strength you could muster, you lifted your head up just enough to touch your lips to his, a quick peck, matching smiles on both of your faces.

you knew he couldn't resist you.

he leaned down to capture your lips once more, the hand which was formerly tickling you now rubbing slow, gentle circles on your waist, the other one finding its place on your cheek, pushing the baby hairs away from your face so he could kiss you better.

he flipped you over so that you were on top now, a hand running down his chest and the other one tangled in his soft hair. he smelled like caramel, like always. like home.

you could never get enough of him.

his kisses were desperate, he wanted you to feel how much he loved you through them. kissing bakugou was a slice of heaven, lips giving you a sense of comfort like no other.

he tangled his fingers into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, your scent invading his senses completely. he would drown in your kisses if he could.

bakugou may be an asshole to anyone else, may be cruel to anyone else - but he was weak for you. and he gladly would be if it meant kissing you like this, making you laugh like this, you looking at him like he hung the very stars in the sky.

he loved you more than anything.

sorryyy this was a bit rushed but i hope you like it

[ataliagold]

Flowers In Your Hair

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1249

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness

Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

___

“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”

Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.

Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”

Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”

Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”

“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”

Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”

Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.

She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”

Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”

“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.

Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.

She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”

“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”

Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”

“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“Eddie?”

A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.

“Yeah, supergirl?”

“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”

Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”

El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”

And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?

Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”

“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.

“Yup.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”

And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.

At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.

He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.

“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”

They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.

Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.

By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.

“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”

Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”

El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.

Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”

Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.

Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.

Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.

This is stupid.

Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.

Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.

Almost.

Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.

Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.

It opened after a moment.

“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.

Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”

Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.

When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”

“I love them, Eds.”

___

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

hey so how do you think the bay boys would deal with having a s/o who sometimes randomly cups their cheeks and gives them forehead kisses and then a kiss on the mouth while saying they love them or call them handsome and then they proceed to leave unless their boyfriend yanks them into a hold so they stay put? Happens once a day as long as s/o is not feeling negative vibes?

Affectionate S/Os are treasures to be protected, and I agrue every single Bayverse guy NEEDS an affectionate S/O like this.

But everyone has a different personality, right? I think Raph and Donnie need physical affection like this the most, but Mikey and Leo would be the ones most likely to initiate this kind of thing to you. But anyway-

This is how THEY react.

Enjoy!

Random Kisses X Bayverse Turtles

Mikey

-Loves that you do this shit often enough that he can pretend he's the shit.

-Thinks it's funny when your kissing and babying him and he can preen.

-Looking around the room like he's a big, strong man that owns world while you are making "kiskiskiskiskis" noises to his cheeks.

-Also loves to play victim.

-Is the boyfriend that, if asked, "Do you need kisses?" Mikey'll curl up under you and nod pathetically- even if he had an awesome day.

-"You okay, baby?" You ask.

-"Mmm." He makes a dismissive noise into your chest.

-"You need kisses, baby?" You ask.

-"Mmhm." He moans sadly.

-You press hundreds of those tiny, rabid fire kisses to the scales of his scalp.

-Then when you stop your met with another sad, pathetic groan.

-Mikey is also the boyfriend most likely to give you the same disgusting treatment. -Always looking for an opportunity for ambush kisses.

-Be careful

Leo

-He doesn't like it if he's already overwhelmed or preoccupied

-It can overstimulate him

-But he NEEDS that connection. He needs affection.

-if things are calm, if all the chores are done and it's time to decompress and relax (something he's learning how to do)

-and he's sitting down or curled up with you-

-he compelelty melts. Literally. Physically into you.

-he usually tries to hide his smile or stop himself from laughing.

-"Stopp, this isn't-" "staap"

-Its so fucking adorable. He's fun cuz he can be that fucking awesome, badass, highly specialized and experienced superhero- then also be a needy cuddle bug that practically begs for attention and needs to be held all the time.

-he also the second most likely brother to give the same treatment.

-Loves to surpise you with kisses and hugs.

Raph

-He's had a very difficult time reciprocating this level of cuteness to you without prompt, its something he's working on

-However

-In front of people, he's all like, "Ew. No. Stop. Get off me. This is dumb. I'm a man."

-Then during cuddle times HES the one who crawls into your lap and kinda just...begs with his eyes.

-Also he's hilarious because he sucks, SUCKS at pretending he doesn't actually freakn love it.

-It's hard for him to NOT smile around you when he wants to. So if your ambushing him infront of others or by himseld he's like, trying to push you away while saying, "S-stop, no." But his smile is super wide and he can't look at you in the eyes

-It's disgusting 😭

-Its also extremely meaningful to him, when you do this. Gets him feeling attractive and adored- he won't admit it but it's kinda hard for him to hide that he's flattered too.

-If he's been having a hard, overwhelming season and you pull that while alone with him, it's a struggle not to pull you closer and cry.

Donnie

-Unlike Leo, this is the best way to distract Donnie.

-If he's feeling overwhelmed by work or tasks- calling his name then grabbing his cheeks and kissing him all over will turn his internal world into a very quiet, loving place instantly.

-Hes usually pretty confident, and it's easy for him to talk, but if you do this he'll get all shy and embarrassed

-His smile is super wide and he pulls his head back on his neck while trying to lean away or avoid looking at you

-It's SO fucking cute

-The hardest part about this is if he's not sitting down-

-This shit is extremely difficult

-I don't care how tall you are. Donnie is taller and it's DIFFICULT to ambush him with face or head kisses.

-You just know 90% of your relationship with from his perspective is you looking up at him doing grabby fingers

-Good luck with that

[writinginthetwilight]

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Loneliness. Anxiety. Dubious Dnd lore. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic you're a lovely bunch. This all Eddie's POV, slowing down to show a little glimpse of life on the other side of the wall and in his noggin. As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being so supportive.

Special thanks to Somna for beta reading this chapter and soothing the brain goblins 💙

Wc: 4.4k

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. I hope you're all being kind to yourselves. Bye.

Part 6 - Rapid eye movement.

Starbursts roll over his vision, the edges are fading into burning static, there's a darkness rapidly approaching. He's falling.

Then he's awake.

Sitting bolt upright, his fingers catch the knots in his curls as he runs his hands over his head, panting breaths leaving him in time with the way his eyes dart around the room.

The world's a gentle sombre blue, shadows still overbearing as the sun starts its crawl out from beyond the horizon.

The knock that comes from behind him forces out the last of the breath he's been holding, reality slowly sinking in as he falls backwards.

He knocks back on the wall behind his head.

A returned acknowledgement of the shared time, somewhere.

The walls are too thick to pick up any small movements, but he waits and listens anyway.

He hopes you get back to sleep.

Dashed red numbers are a blur from his nightstand, too bright for tired eyes, they edge into focus slowly as he blinks away the sleep, he wishes he hadn't.

He needs to get up soon.

His first appointment’s in a couple of hours, a new one on the outskirts of the city and he needs to stop by the store first, see if he's picked up anymore for the week ahead.

A car revs its engine outside, his heart stutters, eyes clench closed.

It was just a dream.

Kind of.

Whatever it was, he's back now.

You're back now.

He scrubs at his face, pulling off his sweat stricken shirt, material damp against his skin and rapidly turning cold, before reaching out blindly for his cigarettes and balancing his ashtray precariously on his stomach.

Smoke curls up as he lets out his first exhale and he tries to calm his racing mind as he watches the shapes they coil into, serpents consuming themselves, tendrils that dissipate into nothing.

It had been what felt like a lifetime that you'd both nervously waited to wake, for something to appear from the darkness, but nothing came.

You were stuck, stock still as he'd tried to get you through the light, everything in his body telling him to go.

Your lack of self preservation would be impressive, if it didn't make him feel like such a fucking coward.

He can still see your face, eyes trained on the wall, mouth working like you were trying to get words out as you finally moved with him away.

The relief on your face as the rushing in your ears began.

The small wave you'd given him before being ripped away.

Fuck.

His letter from you sits on his nightstand amongst the clutter he needs to clear. He reaches over, turning on the small lamp which does very little, barely illuminates the area around him in muted peach hues.

It's enough.

I'm going to plan an exorcism, so if you could let me know which weekday evening would be good for you, that would be great.

In the meantime if you could find some sort of bell to wear so I don't almost die of a heart attack each time I come home that would be great.

His cigarette smoulders at the edge of the page smoke drifting over the words like fog.

He scratches at the stubble that's starting to come through on his jaw, trying to hide the smile that comes to his face at your words.

He's not sure who from.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, letter still in hand he pads his way through to the kitchen.

Bare feet hit the smooth cold tile, stray crumbs sticking to the bottom of them that he wipes off absentmindedly against his leg as he leans against the counter.

The coffee machine clicks and gurgles as he looks up from your words to stare out over the street, golden light now edging in making the opposing windows reflect back like a hall of mirrors, light dancing over his hands in waves.

He frowns, moving before the idea can fade with distractions, into the living room.

Peanuts and popcorn lie strewn over the floor as he rounds the corner and he curses lightly under his breath.

He'll deal with it later.

He pulls a stack of books off the bookshelf rifling through until he finds it.

‘Manual of the Planes’.

He discards the rest, sitting down criss-cross, stray kernels sticking into his calves where his sweatpants have rolled up.

He shifts them away and glances up to the space in front of him, the memory of you laughing fleeting through his mind.

The coffee pot fills and clicks off in the kitchen, light reflecting off the glass that shrouds the dark liquid.

It goes lukewarm, forgotten.

It's odd that the intentional quiet of his mornings seems to make the apartment less empty.

He'd stopped turning on the TV or playing music in the mornings a few weeks ago, afraid he might wake you.

The fact that there's someone there to hear him seems to make the silence less overwhelming.

He has to pull himself away from the book, pushing it into his bag to resume later, the responsibility of the day taking priority if he wants to make rent this month.

He's crouched at the foot of your doorway down the hall slipping a note under when he hears footsteps.

There's a woman coming down the stairs that curls off at the end of the hall heading towards him with a wary look.

He tries to look as casual as he can.

“Morning.”

He flashes her a grin still down on one knee and she quickly rushes past without a response.

Shit.

He hangs his head, standing slowly as his knees crack and back protests.

Mumbling, he curses tense muscles and aching bones as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulling up his soft black hood he adjusts the hair out of his eyes before long limbs carry him down and out onto the street below.

Dewy spring air still holds its chill, the sun still low in the sky and his breath mists in the air around him. He pulls up the collar on his leather jacket, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

The morning rush hasn't started, but there's still bodies on the street, heads down, paper coffee cups steaming in the air.

The constant low murmur of cars and people's existence buzzes around him, and accompanies him all the way until he finally boards his first bus, steel doors closing and muting the world.

The record shop isn't too far, a twenty minute walk at best, but if he's going to make it out to his first lesson he's not got the time to spare.

Early morning sun warms the side of his face as he pulls out the extra book in his rucksack, eyes resuming where they left off, as the bus takes off.

Transitive planes, demi planes, gods, demons and elemental struggles.

It's lighting up his brain.

The places which sit dormant, unentertained in the daily grind to exist, he greedily takes it in, lets it wash over his mind.

His notebook balances awkwardly on his thigh while he takes notes of anything that fits.

Lights, sleep, entry ways, reflections.

Voids and disembodied voices that will suck out his soul.

Shadows crawl over the pages as strangled light gasps between buildings and as the towering skyline clears daylight catches the white of the pages, making his intense gaze falter and look away.

Just in time to see the record store pass.

Shit

He rams everything into his bag, book pages crease and his guitar case rings out muffled pained notes as he clumsily stands and rushes to pull the cord.

The visit’s short and sweet, the owner Buck doesn't bat an eye as Eddie shouts out a slightly breathless hello as he barges past the closed sign.

Raising a hand in response, his gaze still stays firmly set on his newspaper even as Eddie reaches blindly behind the desk and pulls out a green book.

There's no new students.

But there are a couple of kids he hasn't seen in a while, names penned in next to their parents phone numbers.

A little tension leaves him at the sight, lessons are an extra expense, easily cut around the holidays and as spring crawled in, he was sure he wouldn't see them again.

His flyer in the window needs replacing, the words starting to fade from sun exposure. He should probably check the others around the city too.

He'll do it tomorrow.

He daren't risk too much distraction as the next bus carries him out of the city, as the streets outside turn suburban and unfamiliar he needs to count the stops.

Day dreaming’s an expense he can't afford if he doesn't want to be late. First lessons are hard enough without having to explain why he's not on time.

Languished footsteps fall onto pristine sidewalk as the bus hisses and takes off behind him, leaving him to unknown cookie cutter streets.

A knot in his shoulder makes him huff and wince backpack sitting uncomfortably over the muscles there.

He misses the van.

The thought isn't new but lingers a little longer on mornings like this, as his feet hit the ground every step’s a reminder of how much easier it would be.

How much safer he'd feel.

He pushes the thought down, reasoning he wouldn't be able to afford the gas anyways.

Ignores the fact that one appointment wouldn't take almost two hours out of his morning.

A low whistle leaves him as he finds the street, a cul de sac of matching white houses with cloned cherry wood trees to the left of their driveways.

The air smells like breakfast and there's distant chatter of kids in the tall fenced off gardens.

Number 12.

The driveway alone rivals the size of, your his apartment.

He checks his hair in the car window, pulling it back with the satin purple scrunchy on his wrist, biting into his cheek as he wraps it round his hair.

Just another piece of her which remains, stuck into his life like splinters that he keeps fucking finding, just beneath the skin.

He takes a breath, shaking out his arms as he pushes the doorbell, a muffled sing-song tune alerts the house to his arrival.

He shifts nervously, an outline through the frosted glass approaching.

It wouldn't be the first time someone had closed the door in his face. Not even giving him the chance to explain who he was, why he was there bringing down the house prices.

The lock clicks.

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

“I'm Eddie, we spoke on the phone. I'm here for guitar lessons with Sam.”

An hours worth of Munson charm and some badly done scales later, he leaves with an envelope full of cash and homemade brownies snug in his backpack.

Six more lessons booked for the same time each week, discussed while Mrs Graham waved him away and flushed pink at his talk of her not looking old enough to have a 10 year old.

As the buildings get taller again, the bus back starts filling out and his mind strays as he tries to avoid eye contact.

You said you worked around here.

He doesn't need to be at the school for another couple of hours and he lets his feet carry him off a few stops early. Through seas of trench coats and shoulder pads he meanders, a streak of black slipping between white pressed shirts.

Shined shoes file into buildings through glass doors and he wonders, if in another time you're hurrying in with them.

All the buildings look the same here, concrete mountains, unfriendly and overbearing.

He hopes you don't work in one of these.

He sits himself on the back of a bench when the streets turn more pedestrian, bakeries, cafes and mini marts lining the sidewalk.

The cool metal of the bench bleeds past dark denim and into the skin on the back of his thighs as he digs into the bag of brownies, squinting into the late morning sun he pulls his hair free shaking it out.

The woman on the opposing bench watches him and he gives her a tight smile, she looks away.

The next bus is late.

Of course it is.

The walk into school feels surreal enough without him rushing in late for classes.

It's some kind of ironic fuck you from the universe that the best steady source of income he's got means he’s back in the hallways of a high school 3 days a week.

He pulls at the creases in his shirt, formed in his bag over the course of the morning, swapped out for his hoodie on the bus ride over.

The tie around his neck makes him feel like he's choking.

The kids aren't bad, just, not as enthusiastic or interested as the home school kids, he can't blame them.

Pale walls and bright lights seem to suck out your soul while simultaneously spotlighting all your imperfections.

He hadn't wanted to be there at 16 either, still didn't a decade later.

They keep fucking about. Not listening and he doesn't mean to snap, but the fluorescent lights and noise are grinding on him quicker than he should let it.

He spends the time between lunch and after school classes pouring over the book in the teachers lounge while it's empty, drags his way through after school lessons then makes his way back to the city.

One more.

A standing appointment.

Within the city only a short walk from the bus station.

There's no Munson charm here.

He won't leave with brownies.

It's the most comfortable he's felt all day.

A shared acknowledgement of a long day is made over tired eyes as Ruth answers the door to the 5th floor apartment.

“Eddie's here.”

Lizzy, 13, spunky, and really fucking good.

She likes old school Maiden and is in love with Joan Jett.

She reminds him he's old every chance she gets.

Her mom can't really afford him and pays by the week, no block payments but she's never missed a lesson.

Change and creased notes scavenged and saved, are always waiting for him on the small kitchen counter when he leaves.

He picks up snacks on the way there, store brand candy bars and chips that he always forgets when he leaves.

It's a routine he savours.

A place he feels welcome with no pretence of being the help. An hour of playful jabs, jamming and laughter that drowns out the low hum of the radio.

Everything's dropped as soon as he passes the threshold of the door, his shoulders sagging as he walks heavily into the living room.

Late afternoon sun casts the far side of the room in shadows.

Popcorn and peanuts lay all over the floor.

His hands find his face and he lets out a frustrated moan into his palms as he turns and grabs the broom.

It's the bare minimum swept back into the bowl, gritty flakes and salt still peppering the green carpet

He can vacuum tomorrow.

The full coffee pot sits idle on the counter as he walks into the kitchen and his foot catches a crumb pile he made while he swept this morning

It didn't quite manage its way to the garbage.

It's overwhelming in the least intrusive way and he can't stand it.

He's done and the rattling quiet is making his thoughts tumble and run into each other.

Chores and bills and otherworldly bullshit.

It can all wait.

He collapses onto the couch, hair splayed out as he groans face down into the upholstery, legs stuck out at angles which will ache soon if he doesn't move.

The music’s turned up, drowning out the silence of his surroundings and the noise inside his head.

He should read, make more notes, clean, put away the cash sitting in his bag but instead he lets the music become a theme tune to his overactive imagination.

The sound of the door slamming into the wall announces your arrival home, reverberating around him and causing a grin to spread across his face from where his head hangs upside down off the couch.

The tape’s long finished and the energy to get up and flip it crawled out into the couch cushions a good half hour ago.

“Hello” your voice calls out and he purses his lips as it echoes out into the empty space.

“Eddie?”

That's louder, there's a distant sound of something being dropped to the ground with a dull thud, then your movements become clear.

He manovers himself silently upright.

You're mumbling to yourself, some kind of list and he can imagine you infront of him at your kitchen counter.

With a stretch of his arms he cups his hands around his mouth.

“Warning! Warning! ”

The choked scream you let out is followed by the clatter of cans and his responding cackle has him falling back against the couch, soft pillows catching tired muscles as he grins.

“You fucking son of a bitch. Why?”

Your voice is breathy and he shrugs to himself.

“Couldn't find a bell. So next best thing.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't.”

There's a pause and something stutters through him as he wonders if the impulse to fuck around with you was too much.

He's too much.

“How was work?”

It comes out quick, a little cracked and he winces as his words press into the empty air.

It reminds him of the first few days, when he thought that the loneliness was finally starting to mess with him.

“Fine.” You say finally, a small laugh in your voice that comes out in a huff, echoing and floating around him. “You?”

“Uh yeah, yeah good, got a new kid on the roster, got lunch out of it.”

“Lunch, how ingenuitive of you. How'd you manage that?” The yawn you let out disguises the last syllables of the words and it catches the muscles in his jaw.

“My unyielding charm” he says with his own, eyes falling closed.

He hears you snort.

“Just ‘cause I haven't turned it on with you.”

“Hmmm.”

He smiles and imagines you rolling your eyes.

Imagines that you're walking around the room.

“So scaring me half to death whenever I walk in isn't part of your unyielding charm. ”

The last few words are muffled by another yawn and his eyes open, staring at the ceiling with a small frown.

“You get back to sleep?”

There's a pause in your footsteps.

The obvious unconscious elephant in the room rousing.

“For a bit."

He nods his head chewing the inside of his cheek as he hears you resume doing whatever it is you're doing in the kitchen.

“I think I know why we end up there.”

He turns his head towards your voice, warped and disembodied its floating out from around the sideboard Paul left.

“ Yeah?”

“ Well not why, but how. Sort of?”

“Sounds like you cracked the case Columbo.”

“Shut up.”

He waves out into the open air and you proceed like you've seen him.

“We both fell asleep around the same time right? So, maybe we both have to be in the same sleep stage? We could both be in deep sleep or REM at the same time if we fall asleep at the same time. ”

“We sleep at the same time all the time.”

“ Yes, but we went to bed at the same time. ”

“I'm lost.”

You sigh and the clank of something metal being set down rings out.

“There's different stages to sleep, depending on how long you've been sleeping. If we go to sleep at the same time maybe we could test it.”

He quirks an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “You want to give me a bedtime”

“Yes.''

The resolute sound of your voice makes him break into a full grin and he withholds the puns which threaten to spill out.

Then the sickness comes wrapped in the memories of last night.

“If it's all the same to you, I'm not exactly excited about going back,” another yawn wracks him and he's thankful for it hiding the shake in his words. He lets his head lol to the side “I can't promise I'll stay awake anyway.”

“Rough day?” Your voice has lost any edge and he doesn't know why it makes his chest ache.

“Just, long.”

His stomach suddenly grumbles loud enough to hear and you laugh quietly. “I should probably eat before I pass out” he grimaces, hauling himself up with a groan.

“You making some sort of future food? Astronaut blocks, powder you stir into water that keeps you full all day.”

You laugh, and he stretches his arms above him smiling to himself.

“Lembas bread.” you quip.

D. RiPpp…

His eyes snap open, dust twisting above him dancing in a gentle light that nowhere provides.

The drip is always off on this side, garbled like it's been re-recorded so many times the edges of the sound have lost any clarity.

You're going to be so smug.

The dread hits him then, catches and settles in the pit of his stomach as he climbs out of bed and peers into the hallway shielding his eyes from the unwavering light at the end.

There's a fleeting fear that you might not be here this time, leaving him to navigate the nightmare alone.

It makes his feet move a little quicker, over the disarray and dirt that clings to the world around him. The items from his life sitting amongst it all like pristine placeholders for when he'd finally checked out for the day.

You're standing at the threshold to your bedroom door when he makes his way through.

Biting at the side of your thumb with a small frown as you glare at the darkness in front of you.

You look tired, clothes wrinkled and posture leaning awkwardly.

“So, this is when you gloat, yeah?”

You startle a little before a triumphant grin spreads on your face.

“I told you.”

“I never said you were wrong.” He scratches at his neck looking over the room. “So what now?”

Your grin dies and you turn away from him, taking tentative footsteps edging around the black.

He wishes he wanted to move, but he doesn't, he's rooted to the floor, watching you.

He can just about see the kitchen floor, it's completely black, indistinguishable between the darkness and the liquid that's now merged with it, slowly soaking out onto the carpet that borders where the linoleum should be.

You're leaning in, you're so close to it.

He swallows.

“I've been reading up, about where we might be.”

“You have?” you look at him over your shoulder and he manages a step forward .

“You're not the only one who can investigate and shit.”

He squirms internally under your gaze wondering if you can see his heart pounding, eyes flicking to the shadows.

Nodding his head behind him, he moves back as soon as you start to approach, slipping behind waves of light as you follow.

Thank fuck.

“D&D? “

You say face unconvinced as he waves his hands out with a flourish to the books that lay haphazardly at the end of his bed.

“What?”

“I was just kind of hoping for something. Real.“

His face falls and he looks at you eyes slowly moving to the light which now pours in through a dark window.

You press your lips into a hard line nodding to yourself. “Fair point.”

He settles onto the end of the bed pulling the book onto his lap and opening his notepad. Pages decorated in scrawl, page numbers circled, words underlined.

“So there's a few planes that match stuff here, but the cosmology of planes just makes sense, like the overlaps and- ”

His eyes flick up to where you stand, wide eyed and staring.

“Lost?” he asks and you nod your head stepping towards him.

“Shit. Okay.”

You come to sit beside him.

“Where'd I lose ya’”

You wince “The beginning?”

You smell like the cold, like when Wayne would come back home on early spring mornings, the world still dark, bird chatter in the trees around the trailer.

It makes him homesick.

He tells you the basics: the idea of the planes, overlapping worlds, door ways of colours.

You're a good student, interested, asking questions.

Running off on tangents with him.

He explains the fey wilds and all the other worlds that he noted down messily as the bus swayed this morning.

“So what's the dark?”

He flips the pages, doodles of monsters and ghouls litter the page and he passes you the book.

The Abyss.

Sprawling desolate landscapes and figures shrouded in shadow stare back from the pages and he looks to you.

“Yeah that checks out.”

Your eyes scan the pages, taking in details about shades and fiends, creatures that suck the life from you.

He watches you absorb it all, then your eyes lift, staring at a spot on the other side of the room before you abruptly stand.

“Where are you going? Hey?” his arm shoots out grabbing your wrist. .

“To look at it, if it's a different place then -”

“Can we not, go stare into the dark caverns of hell tonight.”

He drops his grip on you, hand scrubbing over his face.

“Don't you want to know if there's something in there? “

“It hissed and made screeching sounds that made my lungs feel like they were going to explode. I think it's a damn safe bet something in there.”

Your face softens a fraction, eyes moving to watch where his leg is bouncing and he slaps a palm to it in an attempt to steady it.

“Okay.”

You offer the book back to him and he takes it sceptically.

“Okay?”

“We know how to get here now, it can wait.” You say with a shrug.

He watches as you come to sit back on the bed leg tucked up under yourself.

“So, what now dungeon master?”

He lets himself fall backwards onto the bed and you look down at him expectantly as he waves the book at you.

“Roll for initiative?”

The only noise that echos is the drip, the sound curls then dodges around rays of light and distended furniture until it dissolves into the black.

Your muffled laughters hidden away behind walls of light, his responding grin concealed by its gentle movements which roll and flutter.

The next drip falls without a sound, a spark of light blinks behind crumbling plaster.

The abyss starts to move.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck @valhallavalkyrie9 @em0220

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @strangersmunsons @hellfirenacht

Let me know if you would like to be added <3

[aynavaano]

Heaven is here

Old Crosshair x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 4.5k

Summary:

You live on Pabu together with your husband Crosshair, it’s been many years since you turned your back on the war in the galaxy and decided to build a peaceful life together on the Island. Don’t be deceived by the domestic fluff, this is filthy smut.

Notes:

Sooooo…I know you’re all waiting for my Old Hunter fic but what can I say, when this art dropped my hand slipped and here we are with over 4k Crosshair smut and fluff. There’s oral f recieving, unprotected sex, Crosshair is a tease as always. I don’t even know how to tag this, domestic kink? Wife kink ? Is it dubcon if he gives you more orgasms than you think you can take? Also Tech lives, because he does and I will die on that hill. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and for all my Hunter girlies (gn) don’t worry I have not one but two drafts ready to go over.

Even with the risk of another sea surge, you and Crosshair took on the challenge of rebuilding a house in Lower Pabu many years ago. Perched atop a substantial rock, it offered seclusion, tranquility, and an unparalleled view of the ocean—a retreat away from the lively upper streets, precisely what you both had wanted when you decided to move in together. With your own private beach cove accessible from the terrace, and ample space for a garden around, it was a dream, that would have been impossible to fulfill in bustling Upper Pabu. Despite the misconceptions perpetuated by others, over the countless years of marriage, your love and attraction for each other have not faded; instead, they have grown deeper and stronger with time. You love the peaceful life you built together, as a former Jedi you had your fair share of war time yourself and when you arrived here you never looked back. If you are not occupied with helping the refugees on the island heal from their traumas, you spend most days swimming, cooking, baking and tending to the garden.

Today is a quiet Benduday morning, the weather is wonderful like almost always here on the island and you're already up, allowing Crosshair to sleep in after a late-night fishing trip with his brothers.

After your usual reviving morning swim, you whirl through the house and refresh the guest room's sheets, and the blanket in Batchers basket, so Omega can stay overnight whenever she wants. Occasionally, also Hunter stays for a night or two, seeking respite for his heightened senses, when he gets too overwhelmed or just wants to spend a quiet evening with Crosshair.

Preparations for the weekly family dinner, a tradition that you hold dearly since many years and rotate with Phee and Wrecker's partner, are well underway. Wrecker's favorite cookies bake in the oven, Techs favored wine is already in the fridge and the fully opened expansive glass doors, leading to the terrace and garden, invite in a refreshing ocean breeze, accompanied by your favorite tunes—a perfect start to the day, just how you like it.

With Crosshair seemingly still asleep, you choose to whip up his favorite pancakes for breakfast, relishing in the soft flow of the morning. As you gather all the ingredients und cut up the first Jogan fruits of the season, from your garden, you can't help but smile, grateful for the bliss of this idyllic day. You often spend time with the others but family dinner days are the best because everyone makes an effort to be there, even Echo comes by when he’s around and it’s always chaotic and fun. You decide to make some juice, a platter of fruit and finish up the pancakes before you go wake your husband, humming along and dancing around as you swirl through the big open kitchen.

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

As the sun ascends higher in the sky, its warm rays peek through the bedroom curtains, gently nudging Crosshair from his slumber. Stretching lazily, he finds himself alone in bed, the absence of your warmth prompting him to go look for you. When he realizes the delicious aroma of fresh fruit and cookies fills the air, teasing his senses and drawing him downstairs, he already knows where to find you.

The last days were unusually hot even for Pabu, so he opts for a pair of lightweight black linen pants and skips a shirt for now as he makes his way down to the lower floor of your home. Passing by the guest room, he notices the neatly made bed and fresh sheets, a display of your thoughtfulness towards his siblings, who occasionally like to stay over. That you care for them as much as he does is something he always deeply loved about you.

Arriving down in the main living area with the big open kitchen, that you wanted and he was happy to build for you, he's greeted by the sight of you, happily moving through the space in one of his shirts, loosely cascading around your curves. Your hair, still slightly damp from the morning swim and wavy from the salt water adds to your radiant aura as you hum along to the melody of your favorite song. The scene before him fills him with a profound sense of contentment and he pauses, taking a moment to soak in the beauty of the moment, grateful for the life you've built together. It's a scene he never imagined could be his reality, and he still finds himself savoring every moment of it, cherishing the warmth and comfort of home in your loving presence.

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

As you begin to mix the batter, the vibrant aroma of baked goods and fresh garden fruits wafts through the air, filling the kitchen with a delightful scent. The table on the terrace is already set with two big glasses of fresh juice and an assortment of fruits harvested from your garden, ready to complement the morning meal.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts your daydreaming, and you glance up to see Crosshair descending.

His distinguished grey locks cascade in gentle waves, slightly tousled from a long night and his linen pants hang effortlessly low on his hips, accentuating his body in all the right places. Despite the passage of time, he remained as lean and sculpted as ever. After experimenting for a while and despite Echos half serious attempts to convince him a scomp link would be best, he opted for a detachable cybernetic hand covered with a skin like texture, some days he likes to cover it with a glove and some days he prefers to not wear the attachment at all. The scars that once marked his skin have faded with the years, becoming mere whispers of the battles he's fought and the challenges he's overcome and the line of soft grey hair tracing a path down his belly never fails to draw your attention.

Gazing upon him, you're overcome with a surge of love and admiration for the man before you. Despite the inevitable march of age, he still exudes an undeniable beauty and sexiness and the effect he has on you only seems to deepen with time.

He leans against the dining table, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you dance around the kitchen, humming along to the lyrics of the song.

"You're like a dream," he says, his voice filled with admiration.

You glance over at him, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Join me," you invite him, extending your hand.

With a chuckle, he shakes his head. "I'd rather watch you dance. You're mesmerizing."

As the song fills the air, you swirl around getting the cookies out of the oven, your movements perfectly synchronized with the music.

Crosshair's gaze never leaves you, his admiration visible in every glance. He knows that moments like these, watching you dance with such joy and abandon, are something truly special.

“…hmm…mhh…heaven is here if you want it…mhh..”

As the song reaches its peak, you sing along with passion, your voice intertwining with the singers.

"…all gilded and golden, yes, I'm your girl…Hell, if it glitters I'm going…," you sing, your voice ringing clear and true.

Crosshair's smile widens, his heart swelling with love and pride as he watches you, his partner, his wife, embracing life with unbridled enthusiasm and determination despite all you’ve been through.

"…hmm…with my gun in my hand, you know I always get my man..." you hum.

With a gentle smile, he approaches you, enveloping you in a tender embrace from behind before pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. His head rests against yours as he inhales deeply, savoring the comforting scent that surrounds you both.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

You dip your finger in the pancake batter and offer him a taste, letting him lick it from your fingers with a wide grin.

"Mm, Jogan pancakes…my favorite…you spoil me" he remarks with a smile, clearly enjoying the indulgent treat.

"They just started ripening in the garden, I picked the first ones this morning", you add watching as he savors the flavor.

“Let me help you, what can I do?”

"No, no. Go sit on the terrace, my love. I'll bring the pancakes and fresh caff in just a few minutes. Enjoy the sun before it gets too hot outside."

With a final lingering kiss, he reluctantly releases you and makes his way out onto the terrace, the sunlight casting a warm glow upon his features as he steps out, greeted by the inviting sight of the table already adorned with freshly squeezed juice and an array of meticulously cut fruits. The cushions in the lounge area are all arranged with care, and the blankets neatly folded. He flops down onto one of the big cushions, contentment washing over him as he takes in the salty breeze.

Through the open floor to ceiling terrace windows, he watches you move happily around the kitchen, effortlessly stacking the pancakes onto a large plate. The love he feels for you swells within him, a profound gratitude for the care and affection you shower upon him and his family and it’s not something you feel obliged to do but it actually makes you happy. It's a feeling he never grows accustomed to, despite all the years, he’s sometimes still in disbelief that he could be so blessed.

But this morning, there's a special glow about you, an aura of warmth and love that envelops everything you do, and he feels his cock growing hard in his pants watching you. As you reach up to retrieve the caff from the upper shelves, the hem of your shirt, his shirt, rides up, revealing a glimpse of your beautiful soft ass and he inhales sharply when he realizes you're wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

With each movement you make, each delicate gesture, he feels a surge of desire building within him. Unable to resist any longer, he begins palming himself through his pants, his arousal growing as he gives in to the intoxicating effect you have on him.

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

The pancakes are done, each one perfectly cooked and stacked high on a nice plate. You pour two cups of freshly brewed caff, adding a drop of sweet syrup and a splash of blue milk to your own before gathering everything up and making your way out onto the terrace. As you step outside, you find Crosshair basking in the sunlight, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his body, his gaze lingering on you with an unmistakable hunger and a prominent bulge evident in his pants, that really don’t do a good job in hiding it.

When he sees you approaching he gets up and with a few steps he is right before you wrapping one arm around you, immediately sliding under your shirt and squeezing your ass, taking the plate and cups from you with the other hand.

He sets them down on the table, before quickly indulging in a sip of his caff. Then, without hesitation, he scoops you up into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss as he lowers you both onto the cushions, pulling you on top of him so that you are straddling him.

"Sorry love, forgive me but breakfast will have to wait," he says with a desire burning in his eyes.

With a swift motion, he removes your shirt, leaving you completely exposed to the warming rays of the sun. His eyes roam over your naked form, appreciating every curve and contour as your hair falls in soft waves around your shoulders. His touch is gentle yet possessive as his hands explore your body, his desire undeniable in the hardness pressing against your stomach.

"Do you know how utterly perfect you are?" he murmurs, his voice laced with adoration. "Always so good to me, always caring, always loving."

Before you can respond, his lips find yours once more, his tongue pleading for access before before he starts trailing down your neck with hungry open mouthed kisses and soft bites that will surely leave a mark. Despite the many years, he still enjoys marking you as a silent affirmation of your bond.

Crosshair's touch ignites a fire within you as he begins to explore your body with his hands and lips. His kisses are soft and teasing, further trailing down from your neck to your chest where he cups your breasts, massaging them with skillful fingers. You gasp as he takes one of your nipples between his lips, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before giving it a gentle nip.

"Oh, Cross," you moan, your voice a breathy plea as his ministrations send waves of pleasure coursing through you.

He hums in response, his hands continuing their sensual assault on your body as he moves to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His touch is both tender and demanding, each caress fueling your desire and you can already feel how wet you are getting.

"Stars, you're so beautiful…mmh…let me take care of you" he whispers, his voice husky with desire as he gazes up at you with a hunger that leaves you weak in the knees.

Before you can fully process his words, Crosshair swoops you up, effortlessly lifting you until you are straddling his face.

“Mmh…so fucking beautiful”

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his warm breath against your core, his tongue darting out to taste you.

"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, one hand reaching out, desperately searching for something to hold on to, as he begins to lick and suckle at your sensitive flesh. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure racing through your body, building the tension coiled tight within you.

“Stars…you’re so wet for me….let me make you feel good” he murmurs between two painfully slow licks up and down your folds, the vibration of his voice sending a jolt through your core.

"Please," you whimper, arching your back as Crosshair's tongue works its magic. "I need your fingers inside me…or your cock"

He lifts his head, glancing up at you from underneath, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Not yet, love," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I want to make you come first."

You moan in frustration, but his lips descend once more, and all coherent thoughts evaporate and your mind goes blank when he starts sucking on your clit.

Crosshair's movements are relentless, his tongue dancing over your clit with a practiced rhythm that leaves you teetering on the brink of release. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his touch driving you wild with need. His hands get a hold of your hips pushing you further down onto him.

"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm so close."

"Come for me, and I promise I’ll fuck you however you want," he growls, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Just let go and give me everything."

His words are the final push you needed, the dam of pleasure breaking as you tumble over the edge into bliss. Your back arches, a guttural cry escaping your lips as you ride out the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your pussy clenching around nothing leaving you desperate to be filled.

Crosshair continues to devour you, his firm grip on your hips steadying you so you don’t fall over and his tongue working tirelessly to prolong your pleasure until you are a panting and whimpering mess in his arms. As you come down from your high, he gently lowers you back onto the cushions, his hands caressing your trembling body with infinite tenderness.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, wiping away the remnants of your juices on his face and pressing soft kisses against your skin as he holds you close. "I'm so lucky to have you."

You smile, your heart overflowing with love for the man who knows just how to make you feel alive. But your whole body thrums with need, your pussy throbbing with desire after his skilled tongue brought you to the brink of ecstasy, even as your mind reels from the intensity of your orgasm, the ache for his cock remains.

"Don’t forget you promised me something" you whisper.

"Tell me, darling," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. "Tell me what you want."

Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to form words amidst the lingering haze of your orgasm.

"I need you inside me," you manage to gasp, your voice thick with need. "I need you to fuck me, Crosshair. Please."

No matter if it starts with him being the one who’s horny, he always manages to make you the one begging to be fucked.

“How do you want me?” he asks, his fingers trailing down between your dripping folds, pressing against your entrance, desperately aching for his attention.

You can barely form coherent thoughts with him teasing you like this.

“Just…ahhh…just fuck me…please…Cross, fill me up”

With a satisfied grin, he scoops you up from the cushions, his strength and desire obvious as he bends you over the terrace railing. Your heart races as he positions you, your naked body exposed and vulnerable to his every whim. Gripping the railing for support, you arch your back, presenting yourself to him in all your glory.

"Stars, this IS the best view in whole Pabu" Crosshair groans, his voice thick with desire as he quickly sheds his pants and lines himself up with your dripping core, his tip deliciously pressing against you and a sharp slap landing on one of your cheeks.

"So fucking perfect."

You let out a lewd moan, when he slowly slides into you. His big cock stretching you in all the right ways until he is fully sheathed. It’s a feeling you can never get enough of.

You arch into him, making sure you take him as deep as possible. It feels incredibly good to finally get what you wanted, to be so full of him, but he doesn't move. Instead, he teases you, his fingers finding your clit, pinching and rubbing it in just the right way to send shivers down your spine.

"Please, Cross," you beg, your voice thick with need. "Move... I need you to move." the ache between your legs growing more furious with each passing moment.

He grins, enjoying the desperation in your voice, but he doesn't relent just yet. Instead, he slaps your ass, the sound muted by the waves crushing beneath you.

"Stars, I love it when you're so needy," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he bends over you.

You whimper in response and finally, he begins to move, slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But as your pleas grow louder, more desperate, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you with increasing urgency.

Your body starts trembling as he thrusts into you with relentless force. Each powerful stroke sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Crosshair's hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he pounds into you with primal need. "That's it, baby," he grunts, his voice ragged with lust. "Take me. Take all of me."

Your senses reel as pleasure consumes you, the rhythm of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your body responds eagerly, meeting his every stroke with unrestrained enthusiasm as you surrender yourself to him completely.

"Oh, fuck, Crosshair," you cry out, your voice a symphony of pleasure as he drives you to the brink once more. "I’m close, don’t stop."

He doesn't hesitate to comply, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he drives you towards another mind-shattering orgasm. With each powerful stroke, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as you chase release.

And when it finally crashes over you, it's like a tidal wave of pleasure, washing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. But even as you come apart in his grip, Crosshair shows no signs of slowing down, mercilessly fucking you through your high.

“Cross… slow down, it….it’s too much.. please” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and the waves crash on the rocks beneath you.

But he's unrelenting, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you with a hunger that borders on desperation.

“No love, I want you to give me another one, I know you can do it” he growls, his words laced with desire as he continues to drive you toward another peak of pleasure.

With each powerful thrust, he pushes you closer to the edge, his hands roaming over your body as he praises you.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he grunts, his voice rough with lust. "You're doing so good for me."

His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, spurring you on to new heights of ecstasy.

He punctuates his praise with sharp slaps to your ass, the sting mingling with the pleasure to create a sensation that leaves you dizzy with desire.

"I know you like that…" he groans, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he continues to pound into you. "… my fucking beautiful wife, taking me so well."

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as he drives you relentlessly toward another orgasm.

“Now come for me, I… I want to feel this beautiful pussy of yours…clenching around my cock”

He watches you with hungry eyes, his own release growing closer with each passing moment, his thrust becoming sloppy and his cock tightening up even more.

“Let me make you come undone," he urges, his voice a husky growl as he thrusts into, lifting your hips, slightly changing the angle to pound against your most sensitive spot.

With his encouragement, you let go, your body wracked with pleasure as you tumble over the edge once more. And when you come, when that tension in your core snaps, your mind goes completely blank and all sounds fade into the distance. This state of mind is something you only reached in your active days, mid battle, when you had to center yourself in the force and with him. If it’s possible to become one with the force, this is how it has to feel.

Crosshair follows you shortly after, his own climax ripping through him as he feels you clenching hard around his cock and he spills himself inside you, his orgasm mingling with yours in a symphony of passion. You collapse against the railing, spent, sated and panting, your mind blissfully blank as you bask in the last waves washing over you and the afterglow of your lovemaking begins to settle in. Luckily he is holding you steady against him, as your shaking legs begin failing to hold you up.

Together, you hear the waves crashing on the rocks below, the sound a soothing backdrop. In that moment, with Crosshair's arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel complete, your body humming with satisfaction as you revel in the pleasure of being thoroughly and completely ravished by the man you love.

His touch is tender as he lowers you back onto the cushions, your legs still unwilling to support your weight.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he disappears into the house but it doesn’t take long until he returns with a damp towel in his hands to clean you up.

He lowers himself back down on the cushions beside you, his fingers trailing gently over your skin.

“I love you so much” he murmurs looking at you, and you could loose yourself in his eyes, so full of love and adoration for you. He wasn’t good with expressing his feelings when you met but his eyes always told the truth.

“I love you too Cross” you say, cupping his jaw and pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Let me clean you up and get our breakfast over here,” he whispers with a satisfied grin.

With a loving care that fills your heart to the brim, he wipes away the traces of his cum that is leaking from your core and trailing down your legs, his touch soothing and intimate.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean and comfortable, he turns his attention to the abandoned food, gathering up the plates of fruit and pancakes and cups of caff that were left forgotten in the throes of passion, bringing them over to where you lay on the cushions. With a soft smile playing at his lips, he begins to feed you.

"Here, darling," he murmurs, his voice soft and affectionate as he offers you a piece of pancake. "Let me take care of you."

You accept his offering eagerly, too blissed out to eat by yourself, savoring the taste of the sweet syrup and fluffy pastry as Crosshair feeds you with a tenderness that takes your breath away. With each bite and sip, you feel the life coming back into your body and the warmth of his love enveloping you, wrapping you in a cocoon of blissful contentment.

As you eat, you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the lingering effects of three mind shattering orgasms still thrumming through your veins. The terrace is bathed in sunlight, the gentle breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean as it rustles through the air. In this moment, with your husband by your side, you feel completely and utterly at peace.

Together, you eat and laugh and as the last of the pancakes disappear and the caff is drained from your cups, you lean into Crosshair's embrace, savoring the feeling of his arms around you. In the quiet intimacy of your terrace, you revel in the simple joy of being together, your hearts beating as one in perfect harmony.

With a content sigh, you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In this moment, surrounded by his love and warmth, you know that there's nowhere else you'd rather be than here, in the arms of the man who completes you in every way imaginable.

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompts #16: Going through immigration and #24: Identity theft.

Guys. Guys, I’ll be honest. I have no idea what possessed me. I think I found these two prompts as some of the most challenging to imagine as a domestic fic, and… my thinking got a little bit too outside the box.

This fic will have an intended audience of about 1 (me). But I want to give major major props to @olliveolly who introduced me to this game and was the one who came up with this That’s Not My Neighbor / Boys crossover AU (with a couple lovely art pieces on the theme). The “lore” of this horror game is very simple. Tell me you don’t see it:

Butchlander. That’s Not My Neighbor crossover/AU. Rated E (why). 3.3k words (why). 2nd person to allegedly reflect the feeling of first-person gameplay (why). Is this domestic fic? Welllllll. It takes place in an apartment complex so it counts, right? Lax interpretation of ‘going through immigration’ but honestly that’s what this game really reminds me of 😂

Another day, another interminable shift working as the concierge in the dreary lobby of this apartment complex. It was exciting at first, sure, what with getting to play the first and last line of defense against the doppelganger monsters that attempt to sneak in every single day. But you’ve just gotten too good at noticing discrepancies. Nothing gets past you anymore. You know every single feature- hell, every single freckle! -of every single resident in the building. By this point you’ve got all their phone numbers memorized, for no better reason than there is simply too much tedium to this job. You find yourself wishing you could actually watch the D.D.D. ‘decontaminate’ the lobby, as they so euphemistically put it, instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs behind a pulled down rollup metal shutter after summoning them. You could still make out screams without seeing the brutality, and you knew the D.D.D. employed flame throwers and other serious weapons to deal with these monsters. Sometimes you caught yourself feeling just a little bit of sympathy for the doppelgangers, even though their main goal in life appeared to be to imitate people to blend in and then feed upon human flesh, and your main goal in life was supposed to be to ensure none of them would ever get let in through the locked inner door.

John Gillman comes in through the first door and gives you a tired, nominal wave before fishing around in his pockets for his documents to gain entry. He might be your favorite resident— always polite, always in that clean-cut milkman uniform at least when you happen to see him, because no one really leaves the apartment building outside of work obligations. There’s no nightlife in New York anymore, not with everyone nervous of dark alleys or being alone on the street, especially after dark. When you came over here from London, you certainly didn’t expect to get stuck here during a worldwide apocalyptic event like this that has resulted in curfews and lockdowns. You certainly didn’t expect to get zero action and get a mindnumbing job just to make ends meet. It was probably still more interesting than your gig working as a bouncer back in London, but at least you got fresh air there, and sometimes a date to go home with after closing time. Maybe that’s why you’ve started hyperfixating and daydreaming about one of the residents— the involuntary celibacy is getting to you.

John just always looks uncannily attractive. Maybe it’s that silly uniform that’s easy to fetishize. Maybe it’s because his tired eyes also look like bedroom eyes, or the dark circles function the same way eyeliner would. Why is he always so tired anyway? You know he lives alone up there in F03-02. He never gets any visitors either. How much can a person masturbate, really? There’s a rumor around the building that Becca Saunders’ tyke might be his, but you don’t really see the resemblance, and have your doubts that this didn’t just start as a “sleeping with the milkman” joke that got out of hand. People just like to gossip about single mothers. Things like this shouldn’t be considered scandalous. It’s 1955 for god’s sake!

“Sorry, William,” John says, hurriedly shoving his ID and entry request form underneath the glass so you can take take a look. “Almost thought I left my ID at work.”

“Long day, huh?” you ask without expecting a reply, pretending to scrutinize the documents while making small talk. You know this is John. You’d know him from a mile away. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun. “Looks okay, and you are on the list of people authorized to come and go today. But can you take off your cap?”

John grabs his milkman cap off his head, exposing a mop of blond hair, looking mussed after being under the hat all day. You really wish you could test him, see how far you’d be able to take things before he refused to cooperate. Take off your shirt, John. Gotta make sure it’s really you. You never know these days. But of course you don’t. All you’ll have is your fantasies about breaching every code of ethics and using your master key to gain entrance into his apartment, seducing him, ravishing him right in the middle of what must be a depressing bachelor pad. Give him much darker undereye circles by keeping him up all night. Give this apartment complex a more interesting rumor to spread about the milkman in their midst.

“You’re good to go,” you say and press the green unlock button to let him in. He gives you a wan smile and walks out of view, and you listen to his footsteps ascending the stairs.

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful, only a few people coming and going, and a couple of doppelgängers with laughably strange appearance or bad credentials being dispatched quickly. Or at least it’s uneventful until John walks in, just a little bit past curfew.

“Hey William,” he says, sounding distracted, rummaging in his pockets for his documents as a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. This better be a doppelganger, you think to yourself. But he has both his ID and the entry request filled out correctly. He looks identical to the John that passed by here a couple of hours earlier. This can’t be.

You start dialing John’s number, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

John’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees that you get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Yes, hello? John here. I’m not expecting any visitors.”

You hang up pretty abruptly, staring at the John in front of you, searching his appearance for any subtle defect or inconsistency but finding none. Your finger is hovering over the alarm button.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you think I’m someone else? It’s me, William! I swear to god it’s me! I don’t know who you let in earlier, and who’s answering the phone now, but it’s not me up there!”

And shit, you believe him. You must have fucked up. Gotten smug and sloppy. Maybe the doppelganger handed you a fake ID but you didn’t notice because you were too busy daydreaming about fucking him.

“William, please believe me, please!” John is pressing up against the glass at this point, clearly scared that you’re going to quarantine him in the lobby and sic the D.D.D. on him. They don’t tend to ask questions. You’ve never had it happen, but you’ve heard of innocent people getting snuffed out on the mere suspicion of being doppelgangers, the D.D.D. rarely admitting to such mistakes even after the fact.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I just have to think…” you mumble. “I’ll let you in, but don’t go up to your flat. We have to figure this out.”

John nods frantically and slips into your office after you buzz him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, and if you weren’t scared shitless at the moment, you’d probably get a kick out of how vulnerable and scared his expression is compared to his usual tired, impassive one.

“I should call the D.D.D. and get them to go up there,” you think out loud.

“Won’t you get reprimanded?” John asks, and oh how sweet of him to worry about your job when you’ve fucked up so royally and almost gotten him killed with your negligence. Maybe already gotten some of his neighbors killed.

“I just don’t want you losing your job over this— you’re the best concierge we have,” he says and then looks down shyly, as if realizing how strange that concern is.

What is this? Are you dreaming? Maybe you’re just out of your mind with adrenaline, but John sounds like he’s got feelings for you.

“Let’s just go up there and see what’s going on,” he says, and damn he’s persuasive as fuck. You want to go and deal with the mess you made, and protect him.

“I’ll go up there and just check,” you say, hardly believing yourself as you grab the fire extinguisher from the wall as a makeshift weapon. Everyone who was scheduled to return to the building has, so you shouldn’t get any more legitimate people coming through, but you still tape up a note that you’ll be back at your post in a few minutes. “Right then. You just stay down here and wait. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. If I’m not back in five, call the number on the post-it.”

John shakes his head and follows you up the stairs. “I’m not letting you go up there alone,” he says in that quiet irresistible voice and you start to wonder if there’s something strange going on. Why are you going on this potentially suicidal mission to deal with a doppelganger on your own? So what if you get fired? No job is worth your life, right? But you probably wouldn’t see John ever again if you lost this job and that’s clouding all your judgment right now.

Knocking on John’s apartment door is probably not a good idea, and will just give the monster inside time to prepare or hide. So you take out your master key and turn it in the lock as quietly and quickly as you can. The door swings opens with an ominous creak, revealing a dark living room with no sign of anyone there. Did he hear you coming up the stairs? You try to keep John behind you and shield him in case anything sudden happens from within the apartment, but then you feel a strong push from behind and both you and John are in the flat now.

You’re so stupid, so critically, fatally stupid. The John you let in earlier was the real one. You’ve let a doppelganger convince you that you made a mistake, and now you did let one in. You whirl around, try to hit him upside the head with the fire extinguisher you’re brandishing, but he blocks the move with little effort.

“I thought we agreed,” he says, and you realize he’s speaking not to you but past you to someone else in the room.

“Thursdays are my days,” an identical voice answers from behind you and you step back and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. Two John Gillmans, both in the same uniform, neither one looking the least bit spooked, both looking mildly irritated if anything.

“Since when,” the John who came up behind you asks of the other one. “I get to be here every other day, doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.”

“So now what are we going to do about him?” the John who was in the apartment asks, pointing to you. “Why didn’t you just leave once he called me? Are you stupid?”

Your heart may be racing, but your thinking feels as slow as molasses. They’re …. both doppelgangers?

“What have you done with the real John Gillman?” you whisper hoarsely. The twins turn to look at you and you’re creeped out by the very similar smirk that spreads across both of their faces. They’re really impeccable facsimiles of the real person, but this is an expression you’ve never seen on John.

“You’ve never met the ‘real John Gillman’,” one of them says.

There’s enough cold sweat that’s broken out on your back that it starts to trickle down as drops.

“We like you William. It would be such a shame for our friendship to end.”

You hold up the fire extinguisher in front of yourself defensively, but you’re not sure you can really do anything against two of them. You’ve never noticed before, and maybe the real John’s teeth didn’t look like this, but the two doppelgangers have sharp looking canines when they’re grinning. It’ll serve you right to get devoured in this dark flat for making so many mistakes and bad decisions in a row today.

“So you’re just going to kill me then?” you ask.

“We’d really rather not,” one of the twins says. “A murder would bring a lot of snooping law enforcement if not the D.D.D. Itself.”

“And it’s so hard to find good lodging to spend the night.”

They must be joking. “You really expect me to believe you’re not just here to eat people?”

One of the twins rolls his eyes. “Eat people! Yeah, that’s why we’re here, clearly.”

“Has anyone in this apartment building ever disappeared in all the months you’ve worked here?” the other one asks.

“How should I know?” You’re beginning to feel like this has to be some sick nightmare. You can’t possibly be having a civil conversation with a couple of cannibal monsters. This thought has a strange calming effect on you. “If I didn’t know you lot were masquerading as John Gillman, how am I to know how many other residents are real people?”

The twins turn to each other, still smiling and shrugging.

“We’ve been on a vegetarian diet for a while,” the other says and you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” the other one says, spreading his hands in concession. “But milk is more than enough to sustain us. We do think people are delicious, but there’s one thing we like much more than eating them.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, emboldened by the possibility that you’re just in a ridiculous, paranoid, bad dream of a worst case scenario at your job.

“We’ve been watching you William. We think you’ve been interested in us.”

“We’ve never fucked anyone from this building, and never fucked together, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

You just stand there, fire extinguisher still raised up defensively. No question about it, this must be a nightmare that’s slowly but surely twisting itself into a sexual fantasy.

“Come on, William. Let’s make you comfortable.”

You can hardly protest as one gently pulls your makeshift weapon out of your loose grip, and the other one sweeps you off your feet with preternatural superhuman ease and carries you over to the couch in this sparsely furnished apartment.

Gentle but insistent hands undo the buttons on your trousers and then maneuver you so they can pull them off completely and free your legs.

“Humans are such fun creatures,” one of the Johns comments when he sees that despite your fear of the situation unfolding right now, you are sporting a half-hearted hard-on. It somehow only gets harder when you hear them talk about people as another species.

Both Johns are still fully dressed, situating themselves to kneel on the floor on either side of you. It’s wild. You must be dreaming. And as you watch both Johns lean forward, extending their tongues and licking your cock up and down from opposite sides, you realize that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

They know what they’re doing. They bring you right up to the edge of orgasm and then pull away, leaving you feeling desperate and even annoyed. You’re not annoyed for long though as they both strip down, and you see that their human-mimicking powers are perfect, down to the most minute details that would never be seen under clothes. Granted, you don’t know what John Gillman looked like naked, so maybe they’ve taken artistic license and embellished. Whatever it is, they’ve compared notes, because they still look indistinguishable to you.

“Like what you see?” one of them asks and you realize you I’ve been staring, maybe even with your mouth hanging open. You never imagined you’d hook up with a doppelganger, let alone two of them at once. But you have imagined foisting yourself on John in this very flat, and you’re about to live that daydream.

You end up doing things with the two of them beyond what you’ve ever dreamed of. You fuck one of them, and at the same time get fucked by the other one from behind, the cheap bed’s metal joints creaking and moaning from the motion of three bodies rocking against each other. You let them suck your cock and rim you to get you back in the mood for another round, trying not to think about how unsettlingly hungry they both look, and who they really are underneath the human-looking exterior. The exterior slips periodically when they’re in the throes of pleasure. You wince when they betray just how strong they really are, whenever they flip you over or change positions, as if you weigh nothing. You try not to pay attention when their eyes start glowing red when they’re particularly turned on, but it’s impossible to ignore in the darkness of the bedroom.

“William, you are fucking delicious,” one of them declares, licking his lips obscenely after swallowing down your cum, and all you can do is emit a short nervous chuckle, and think that even if they do decide to eat you at the end of all of this— either to cover their tracks, or just because they might start feeling peckish after all this is over— it will still have been worth it.

You don’t get eaten. In fact, you’ve had the time of your life, and as you get up from the bed and mumble that you have to get back to your post before your shift is over, the two Johns lie languid, naked on the bed watching you, each enjoying a post coital glass of milk (that’s all they have in the fridge— you saw when they opened it), like perfect mirror images.

“You won’t be making any unnecessary phone calls, right William?”

“We can count on you to be discreet and keep a secret, right?”

Through the combined haze of being scared for your life and then having the time of your life, there’s still one thing that bothers you, and you ask about it, against all your best self-preservation instincts.

“So what have you done with the real John Gillman?”

They turn to look at each other, not exactly conspiratorial but it still makes you uneasy.

“Oh, John Gillman never existed. We’ve been around a lot longer than you humans think. Many of us never tried to replicate and replace real humans.”

“Yeah, and a lot of good that did when some of us started! The ones who are doing it are the reason we’re being hunted now. Unoriginal hacks. And so bad at mimicking too.”

“So many embarrassing ones out there.” They both nod at each other.

You’d like to believe them. You really would. “So why choose this persona?”

“The milkman gets free milk and gets around in your society! And humans seem to like this look,” one of them says, grinning and gesturing with his hand over their naked bodies.

“But we only ever get to enjoy bored housewives.”

“And why are there two of you?” you ask hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the wall to verify that you’re not late yet.

“Oh there’s more than two of us,” one of them says and they laugh in unison in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

~~~

You think you’ve got it all worked out. You’re letting the John Gillmans stay in the apartment undisturbed, and you let them through even when it’s obvious that there’s more than one of them coming and going. You figure it’s a win-win. They promise to protect the building from any rogue doppelgangers who infiltrate and intend to harm the residents, and in return get a place to stay the night peacefully. You get to visit apartment F03-02 after your shift ends and have mind-blowing sex. They seem to enjoy the orgies as well. They know your shift hours and try to only come and go during those times. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this arrangement.

Or at least not a problem that you’re going to make into your problem. When one of the Johns walks in, visibly smeared in blood, you do give him a hard time.

“Come on, John. Just because I’ll let you in, doesn’t mean you can just stop trying to look decent. God forbid I call in sick and someone else is here.”

John shrugs and goes through the formality of pushing his ID and entry request under the glass window.

“And get a new ID…” you tell him when you see bloody fingerprints all over the worn paper.

John shrugs, doing his usual tired act, despite how ridiculous it looks to be so bored and nonchalant when you’re smeared in blood.

“Whose blood is that, anyway?” you ask, wondering why you’re not more disturbed.

“Someone who was of no consequence and who won’t be missed,” John replies, terse and cool as a cucumber.

“I thought you said you were vegetarian?”

“I’ll take a cheat day if I run into a wifebeater,” John says, shrugging.

You buzz him in, telling him to get washed up before someone sees him, wondering if you’re being colossally naive to believe his story, and wondering if you’ve got a death wish because you’re still looking forward to going up there once your shift ends in a few hours.

(What in the world. 💀)

[its-jaytothemee]

Another

Read on AO3

Rating: Explicit, MDNI 18+

Word count: 2,045

Tags: Halsin x Tav, overstimulation, PiV sex, vaginal fingering, porn without plot, shameless smut, aftercare, praise kink, Halsin pleasure dom if you squint.

Summary: Halsin loves nothing more than spending a night lavishing pleasure on his lover and of course taking care of them afterwards.

A/N: Another kindly re-homed prompt that was supposed to be a drabble and turned into a 2k smut fest.

Thanks for reading! I'm still new to writing more explicit fics but want to keep working on it.

“Another.”

Halsin tore himself from between Tav’s legs to growl the command into her ear. His gentle fingers replacing his tongue to keep rubbing and flicking in that perfect spot, making sure she didn’t lose a second of the buildup he had worked oh so hard for.

A whimper escaped her trembling lips. How many times had he already brought her to orgasm? Four? Eight? He lost count. They seemed like they were all starting to blur together anyway. The lows between had become shorter and shorter as the night went on. Her face and chest reddened further with every wave of bliss that washed over her.

Something about being with her here, tonight, made him wild with lust. Wild with a desire to keep her locked in the cycle of sweet pain and pleasure brought forth by his touch. Of course, should she want him to stop, she would only have to say so. Yet she kept writhing and rolling her hips up to meet him. Silently, and at other times not so silently, begging him to keep going. Alternating between sweet lovemaking and hard fucking with his fingers.

The sheets beneath her were soaked after hours of pleasure and he hadn’t even taken any of his own yet. For now, it was more than enough to watch her squirm and tremble, it was enough to taste the sweet honey of her arousal, dripping from her supple folds just for him.

“Such a good lass…” He whispered the words in her ear before nibbling the soft cartilage. His words caused another bout of moans. How she loved to hear him whisper those little praises.

Her muscles began to shudder and convulse around him again. A hoarse scream rang from her throat, barely able to make out his name anymore.

“You are too good to me, my heart. Hearing my name cried from those gorgeous lips is such a gift.” He pressed tender kisses into her neck before biting into the skin, desperate to leave more of his marks on her.

More gasping breaths caused her chest to heave up and down, enticing him to move down and kiss her soft breasts.

“I feel I must apologize.” He took one of her nipples into his mouth, the already hard nub in perfect condition for him to suck and roll around with his tongue.

“Here you are, giving me all these sweet sounds and tremors.” Right on cue, another rasping moan as he murmured the words against her oversensitive skin.  The little bumps rising wherever he touched reinvigorated the heat driving his desire.

“And I’ve been so selfishly devouring them for hours.” He nuzzled his face into the gap between her breasts, taking in a deep breath to inhale her sickly sweet scent. Everything about her was delectable, right down to the thin layer of sweat coating her skin.

She gave a weak nod as his fingers continued sliding in and out of her, curling against her walls just the way she liked. Another little delighted whimper slipped past her parted lips as his thumb circled around her clit, now impossibly swollen and warm from his incessant teasing.

“If only I had something to give you in return…” He grinned as he pressed himself against her thigh, his cock shamelessly hard.

“Please…” She whispered, Halsin could hear that she was starting to lose her voice. Her shaking hands moved down to try and stroke him, but he caught them and pinned them to her sides, finally removing his hand from between her legs. He wanted to save every ounce of himself for her, and after tonight? He’d be lucky to last a minute under her touch.

“Use your words, lover.” He purred back at her.

She let out a frustrated grunt.

“Gods above Halsin, just fuck me already!” She begged.

“With pleasure.” He growled into her ears before he moved to hover over her and lined his erection up with her entrance, still holding her hands against the bed. His tip just barely started to touch her folds when she wrapped her legs around his waist and thrusted her hips up hard to meet him, driving him inside of her. The sudden motion drew a loud, surprised moan from him, and caused him to relinquish his grip on her wrists. Tav’s back arched up as she adjusted to him, it didn’t take long considering all the work he put in before this. Digging her fingers into his hips, she started pulling him further into her.

“Faster.” Her voice was a raspy murmur as she grinded up to meet him.

“Anything for you, my heart.” He lifted her hips up slightly, allowing himself to fill her up as much as possible before he gave in to her touch.

Halsin didn’t bother with anymore buildup, he had teased her enough for the night. Instead, he immediately set a hard, relentless pace. A primal hunger took over as he watched her cry out beneath him, a feral need to sate her every need and desire. The sound of their gasps and moans mixed together with every pounding movement into her.

“Hells…” Tav gasped the words, her speech growing more gruff with every cry.

Tension coiled inside of him, tighter and tighter. His pace faltered as his legs started to shake. He focused on every sensation. The warmth of Tav around him, her trembling legs wrapped tight around his waist, the little strands of hair stuck to her sweat slicked forehead, her hands gripping his arms as her nails left little grooves in his skin, her parted lips as she called out sweet curses, the sight of him sliding in and out of her.

“Ta-av…” Halsin dug his fingers into her lower back as he pulled her tight against him with each thrust.

When he looked back up to meet her eyes, they were smoldering with desire. He took himself down to his elbows over her so he could kiss her as the coil finally snapped. His moans of relief were absorbed into her mouth as their tongues rolled slowly over one another. She continued to grind against him until he was a spent, panting mess on top of her.

He let himself collapse onto her for a moment as he caught his breath. She turned and buried her face into his neck and hair.

“You did so well for me, my heart.” He murmured the words into her shoulder with a kiss. Tav let out a small, dry chuckle at that.

“I think you did the hard work, my bear.”

Halsin rolled to the side so he could pull her into a hug, letting her rest her head on his chest.

“Believe me, it’s no hardship. Far from it.” He rubbed their noses together and hugged her tighter. Her content, gasping breaths threatened to arouse him once more.

No, she needs some rest.

“I’ll be back in a moment, Tav.” He kissed her forehead before walking across the room to gather some items from the dresser he had stored earlier.

Halsin grabbed the carafe of water along with two cups. He also gathered the small bowl of various fruits and nuts he had set aside for her. Raspberries, blackberries, and walnuts were among her favorite foods.

When he turned around, she was lying on her side propped up on her elbow, smiling at him as her frazzled hair tumbled around her neck and shoulders.

By the grace of the Oak Father, what have I done to deserve her?

“Careful now. A look such as that may cause me to lose control once more.” Seeing her half covered with the thin sheets draped over her hips was just as tempting as her fully bare before him.

She tried to laugh, but the sound came out as more of a croak. He set the bowl of food down next to her and poured her a glass of water, which she drank in one gulp.

“And snacks too?” She teased as she set her cup aside. “What did I do to deserve such a treatment?”

“You simply existed, my heart.” He leaned forward to kiss the small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

As Tav sat content with her water and snacks, Halsin strode to the small washroom adjacent to their room to prepare a bath. Tonight, he opted to use some oils, choosing those that had notes of rosemary and citrus – one of his favorites. Steam from the hot water started to fill the air, carrying the pleasant aroma across the room. When he wandered back to the bedroom, Tav was still happily munching on the assortment of fruits and nuts sitting next to her on the bed.

“Care for a bath?” He asked as he leaned in the doorway.

“Bold of you to assume my legs are working at all right now.” She shot him a playful glare as she popped another berry into her mouth.

“Then allow me.” He laughed as he walked back over to the bed to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the fresh bath.

Halsin carefully set her down next to the tub, holding a hand out to her to help her step in. She lowered herself into the hot water slowly to allow herself a moment to adjust to the heat. The smell of the herbal oils was thick in the air now as steam continued to rise up from the bath, tendrils curling up her face as she breathed in the calming fragrance.

He kneeled next to her on the floor, pressing a soft kiss into the back of her hand.

“Care to join me?” She rested her arms and chin on the edge of the tub.

“How could I say no?”

Tav moved to the side to let him sit in the water behind her. The warm water started to soothe his muscles the moment he stepped in. Once he settled, he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into his lap. He loved having her lay against him like this, the perfect position to leave light kisses along her neck and ears, to rub the tension from her back and shoulders.

She let out a happy sigh as she nestled herself back down, tracing little circles into his arms and legs. Her damp hair stuck to his neck and chest as she laid against him and her eyelids grew heavier with each soft breath.

He watched her relax into him, trusting him to keep her safe and warm…to think he had waited so long to make his wants known. How many more nights could they have had together? Exploring and feeling the bliss of one another’s embrace.

He could feel the desire coming back. Despite the hours he spent kissing, sucking, licking, teasing…it still wasn’t enough. He was desperate to make up for that lost time. It took every ounce of his self-control not to let his hands wander again, finding their way back across her overly teased skin. To get her cleaned up just to make another mess. To make her scream and cry his name until her already hoarse voice was gone. His breathing quickened as he felt himself twitch against her bare skin once again. Tav turned around to look in his eyes, still looking like she could fall into a slumber at any moment.

“Feeling a little greedy tonight?” She kissed his nose as she settled onto his lap again, this time facing him.

“Perhaps. But what is an old druid to do against such a temptation as you?”

Tav ran her gentle fingers through his hair, moving the strands out of the way of his neck to leave slow, wet kisses there. The pads of her fingers pressed into his chest and shoulders before descending down his torso. As she kissed her way up his neck and around his jaw, she started to grind against his thigh that she straddled. The movement caused his breath to catch.

“Another?” She asked, looking up so her hooded gaze could move to his lips as she bit hers. Halsin smiled back at her, his beautiful, incredible lover.

I guess neither of us will be getting any rest tonight.

“Another.”

[therealdogsinmymind]

Okii, I saw you had some open slots so I thought Id give it a shot!!

Jinwoo with Male!childhood friend!reader who remembers everything post-regression. Reader had pretended to be oblivious ever since and planned to take his secret (feelings) to the GRAVE.

BUT eventually it slips when reader refers to their crush as "SM" when talking on a panel at an anime convention (Reader wrote a series based on the last timeline but changed things around so it would be hard to recognise) they were invited to.

The pannel is talking about childhood crushes and reader literally describes jinwoo pre-regression powers and all then saying "oh they're just a character from an old show I watched about growing up (LIE) avsndnjdn 😅😅" (reasoning was "ahahaha its not like he'll see this right? ... right??)

The issue is that jinwoo sees a recording of the panel and realizes that reader remembers EVERYTHING and needs to confront them NOW.

Here are the issues:

Jin Woo didnt even know that Reader was an Author in the first place

Reader is in ANOTHER COUNTRY and is going to stay there for a few weeks after said convention

Reader confessed their feelings assuming the other didn't feel the same before the last battle, DIED, and then had been pretending to not remember anything for years after time reset.

Reader's cosplaying (as a cute anime girl /maid with the fluffy short skirts) at the convention and having fans SIMPING for them.

All I know that Jinwoo will not be waiting for reader to come back to Korea

This is mostly Brainrot, but I hope you like it skdnkdnd!

have a good one :)

Hello There! Thank you for your request and for the wait!! I hope you like what I've cooked up!! A standard drabble for me is 300-600 words but this ended up being a little over 1,100 lmao ^^' It's only loosely edited so I hope there's nothing tooooo terribly wrong with it!

Anyway! Without further ado!

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Be an author they said, it’ll be great, they said. 

Nobody actually said this, especially since you’ve largely kept your writing a secret from your friends and family. However your whole life you’ve been determined, and consequently you were thrilled when you were invited to America to speak at a panel about your works, who wouldn’t be? You never got to do anything like this in your last life, it was absolutely mind-blowing to even consider. However you’re not sure if this is what you wanted seeing as your fans have started to ask some invasive ass questions. 

“My childhood crush?” you repeat with a dry mouth, you really don’t want to talk about Jinwoo in front of a room full of people. Surely you can spin this, make up a story; you’re good at that. Hesitation fills you, you don’t want to admit that you’re gay to a room full of strangers but you can’t spin this tale that hard. “The only childhood crush I had is this character from a really obscure comic,” you say with a weak laugh, unfortunately they all prompt you to say more.

“Well.. He was actually a huge inspiration for my series,” you offer, cringing internally. Jinwoo will never see this, never ever, it’s fine. “This character, we’ll call him SM,” the audience groans at the hidden identity, “I can’t reveal all my secrets to you guys! I gotta have some mystery y’know? Anyway- he was this really weak guy, super cute right? Then he ends up getting like crazy strong. Not that he wasn’t hot when he looked like a wet cat, I have taste.” The audience chuckles knowingly, they get you, you have a similar character in your current series, he’s quite beloved. You clear your throat and continue, getting bolder despite the way your hands are sweating. “I’ve always been in love with him, that's why I wrote my story, I couldn’t get that, um, series… out of my head and I needed to create something of my own. It altered me in a way that I’ll never forget, and I’ll love SM until the day that I die.” The room goes quiet for a moment and you have to wipe your palms on the fluff of your stupid maid skirt. Why did you want to cosplay at this convention again? You look ridiculous up here, cat ears atop your head as you talk about some “fictional” boy like you’re deeply in love with him. You could’ve at least worn not a frilly skirt?

Suddenly the crowd goes wild clapping. “You’re so real!” Someone yells and everyone else cheers in agreement. Is that something the kids say? You’ll take it. 

The rest of the panel is much less harrowing, lots of goofing off and then the next day you have autographs and photos right after, who knew you were so popular in America? It’s quite exciting, but you’re exhausted every night when you get back to your hotel room. 

The last day at the convention you trudge back to your room, slipping your heels off and flopping face down onto your bed. Your skirt flips up and you don’t even bother to fix it, what’s the point? You’re just going to sleep like this, let the exhaustion take you. You have another two weeks of sight-seeing in America before you head home. You’re excited for it but a part of you just really misses Jinwoo, you want to call him but then he’d know you’re not in Korea.

“SM, huh?” The bed dips and a familiar voice sounds from behind you, just before hand settles on the back of your thigh. The touch barely high enough that a gloved portion of it brushes your skin above your thigh high stockings. You startle so badly you roll off the bed in the other direction. 

You hit the floor hard enough that it knocks the air out of you and you have to take a second to reorient yourself before you spring up, pointing at the intruder, “Y-you! What are you doing here!?” 

“I could ask you the same question. You up and vanished, I had to find out from a video posted of some panel that you’re not dead.”

“I’m fine, you could’ve texted! Besides! How they hell did you get here so fast!” Your voice is shrill as you round the bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand in front of him. 

He doesn’t reply right away, just raising his eyebrow, unimpressed. “Avoiding the question?”

“What?”

“Your childhood crush-” he starts, not needing to finish. You start stuttering out excuses, it’s not what he thinks, it came to you in a dream, you were just making stuff up, the more you talk the more you dig yourself into a hole.

Jinwoo sighs and grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and sticking his face in the crook of your neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you remember everything?” His words are quiet and pained, full of mourning. Your heart throbs suddenly aware of how painful it must’ve been for him to have to start over all by himself.

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t know how to tell him you’ve loved him for as long as you’ve known him, in both timelines that is. Or how to tell him you were also suffering alone. Or even how to say you think you’d die without him by your side. You shakily reach up and card your fingers through his hair, exhaling a breath you’ve been holding for a little too long. 

Jinwoo makes a noise of discontent, “I don’t want an apology.” You stiffen, unsure what to do before he continues, “I want to know why you thought it was okay to let other men see you like this…” He runs a hand up your thigh, it’s a whisper of a touch. Eventually his gloved fingers sneak onto your bare skin then under a too-frilly skirt. You suck in a sharp breath. Does this mean he feels the same? When you confessed so very long ago in the other world you never got to hear an answer so suffice to say your brain is spinning as he presses a soft his to your shoulder. 

“Jinwoo-” you start. 

“Be it America, or anywhere else in the world… Any timeline… I will find you and I won’t let you slip through my fingers- never again.” He makes his intentions clear with a scrape of his uncannily sharp teeth across your skin. “And trust me, I still have some… frustrations- about you hiding your feelings from me for all these years.” He says, snapping your garter, making you yelp.Ah, the consequences of your actions, so you see. Well, perhaps you don’t mind too much if this is the outcome.

[siriuslygay1981]

Part two rosekiller prompt| Part One

"Have you seen Barty?!" Regulus looked up startled, his eyes wide and his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He stumbles out of his bed and stares at Evan for a moment, still startled from the abrupt entrance.

Evan had burst through the door with no warning, his presence startling Regulus. He quickly slammed his curtains close behind him and gave Evan an annoyed look

"Weren't you supposed to be on a date with him? At the lake?" He responded annoyed, his eyebrow raised.

Evan scowled and pointed a finger at him almost accusingly.

"He just fucking said I love you and ran off before I could respond."

Regulus' mouth drops open, his eyes widening. He sputtered for a moment stepping away from his bed and staring at Evan in shock

"He what!?" Regulus wasn't sure what he wanted to do more, rip his hair out and hex Barty or laugh manically and maybe take a nap for a week.

"A-and I can't find him. Merlin you should've seen his face Regulus- he looked heartbroken...I have to find him."

He shook his head and swiveled around to leave, his fists clenched at his side. Regulus watched him go, his mind still racing. Barty always acted before thinking.

Silence reigned in the dorm room for a moment before his curtains moved back behind him. Regulus slowly turned to the bed with pursed lips and a troubled expression.

"Think he saw me?" James asks before biting his lip. His hair is disheveled, his glasses crooked, his clothes wrinkled and half way off.

Regulus sighs heavily

"Shut up-" he pushes James down again with a smirk.

_____

Pandora stuck her tongue out as she stared at the potion in front of her, her concentration fully on the cauldron. She blew a piece of hair out of her face and tried not to let the sweat rolling down her temple distract her more than it was already doing.

Carefully, with steady hands, she dumped a few more quail eggs in the cauldron. As she stepped back from the giant puff of steam she heard the door burst open behind her

She didn't bother looking over, she knew Evan was stomping towards her. She carefully pulled her gloves off and threw them in the trash as she turned towards her twin

"Try that abandoned charms classroom, from third year.." she murmured softly

She looked at her gasping twin who looked as if he'd been running everywhere, which she's sure he has been. He took a moment to catch his breath before stalking closer and placing a kiss on her forehead

"Will it work out?" He murmurs almost hopefully, it's a stupid question. She gives him a small blank smile

He sighs with a nod, even as she answers they both know what she's going to say

"With endless possibilities I am not sure, even if I was I cannot tell you as it could change the outcome. I wish you nothing but luck though.." she tilts her head to the side and let's him go.

He misses the smile that graces her face as she turns back to the boiling concoction.

_____

Evan slams the classroom door open, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. His eyes scan the room quickly and it doesn't take long to find Barty.

Barty lays on top of the teachers desk, his limbs hanging off around him. It looks wildly uncomfortable but Barty never failed to do the same exact thing each and every time anyways.

"You don't have to come comfort me...it's fine Evan." He murmurs. He doesn't turn towards Evan at all, just stares at the ceiling blankly

"Unless you're Regulus or Pandora coming to comfort me because Evan pities me enough to send someone else.."

He glances over and sighs in a resigned tone, his eyes and nose are red, his hair messier than usual. He had probably been pulling at it, running his fingers through it.

"Well...get it over with then...reject me properly."

Evan stands in front of the open door for a moment catching his breath and trying to figure out what to say.

Inhaling deeply he steps further into the classroom and lets the door shut behind him. He pulls the confidence out of thin air and shoves it down his throat, he couldn't fuck this up.

"No. I don't think I will." He tries for nonchalant, isn't sure he succeeds.

Bartys head snaps back to the side to see Evan again. He sits up slowly with a frown, his legs swinging over the edge of the desk.

"What- Evan-"

Evan steps forward causing Barty to stop speaking. Evan rolls his shoulders, steels his mind for battle and forces his feet to keep going.

He doesn't stop until he's right in front of Barty.

"You're an idiot." He starts out with

Bartys mouth falls open in shock, he sputters for a moment his eyes showing betrayal

"I didn't even get to answer before you ran off you absolute troll." Evan huffs and crosses his arms

He raises an eyebrow down at Barty and steps closer, now in between Bartys legs. Barty, who previously had his hands folded in his lap, snatches them to the side nervously and leans back on them. He eyes Evan curiously, still too nervous to speak though.

"I.... I love you Barty." Evan says suddenly nervous. He uncrosses his arms and looks away from Barty's face, he can feel his eyes on him even as he tries to ignore it.

"You didn't wait for me to fully answer....I love you and you only. You are the only person who has ever made me feel this way. I didn't want-ugh...you make this so hard."

Evan curses Barty out in his mind as he tries to fumble together some form of a sentence

"You can't just drop a bomb like that and run off-" he huffs and slowly looks back to Barty

Barty stares at him stunned, his lips parted in surprise. Evan shuffles nervously, he feels himself flush red as Barty just stares at Evan incredulously. He stands his ground as best as he can.

"Stop staring dumbass-"

Barty grabs Evans hand after a moment of hesitation, quickly cutting off anything he was about to say

"Do you mean it?" He whispers, his fingers slide to Evans wrist and he squeezes. Evan shivers at the warmth of his hand, his eyes trained on the spot where their skin connects.

Evan doesn't pull back, let's him grip him as Barty stares up with wide eyes and hope glistening clearly inside them.

"That you're a dumbass? Yea I really do-"

Barty tugs at his wrist and pouts slightly

"Don't ...please answer."

Evan looks down at their hands again, biting his lips at the sight of Barty's hand that always has chipped nail polish and ink doodles across the back.

"Yea...I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I wouldn't play with your feelings like that..."

Evan looks up through his lashes for a moment, his head tilted down. Barty inhales sharply and tugs him forward

Their breaths mingle, they make eye contact, Evan breathes out and watches as strands of hair fly back. He knows he's looking at Barty through half lidded eyes, he can't help moving closer, too magnetized by the boy in front of him.

Barty nuzzles closer and their noses bump, Evan scans Barty's face, his eyes tracing every small detail. He was a sight, he always was. Always disheveled looking, always looking like a menace to society...

"May I?-"

Evan knocks their heads together, ignores the throb on his forehead from doing so and cups Bartys face

"Yea dumbass, kiss me." He whispers

He barely finishes his sentence before Barty is on him. It can hardly be called gentle, they had waited for so long, too long. There was teeth, there was bruising pressure, it was perfect.

Evan let his hand go to Barty's hair, his fingers sliding through and tugging lightly, barty groaned and almost tilted over when Evan pulled back. Barty stayed hunched forward, his head resting against Evans chest. He heaved in breath after breath, as if he had run a marathon. They both gasped for air, the kiss was short and yet it had Evan light headed.

Barty's fists were clenched on Evans shirt, his knuckles white.

He let out a hoarse whimper before pulling Evan closer again. Evan could feel the pressure of Barty's head on his stomach now, it was a comforting weight.

Evan breathes deeply, his hand gently running through Barty's hair soothingly. He could still feel his galloping heart, and could barely hear anything over it.

"Please tell me this is real...that this isn't a dream?" Barty murmures almost brokenly

Evan stopped, his hands twitching. He closes his eyes for just a second, his heart aching, before answering

"This is real, this isn't a dream...I swear it isn't." Evan forces Barty's head up and sweeps the hair off of his face. Cupping his face between his hands he makes Barty look at him

"This is real sweetheart." He murmures softly

"This is real.." Barty says back.

He presses a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, more on his cheek than his lips.

"This is real.." he murmurs once more before pulling back fully.

(@thedvilsinthedetails I think you asked for part two?? So here you go :) I only wrote it since it was requested and I'm sorta glad I did)

[idontknowreallywhy]

FishTank Week Day 1 for prompt “Wingman”

This started silly and got sillier. I make no apology because I am horribly sleep deprived and writing anything at all under (self-imposed) prompt pressure is usually impossible so even nonsense is better than nothing 😂

Featuring my headcanon that Virg is not in the same drinking league as the military bros…

And also a terrible cheesy earworm.

💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛

Everybody’s lookin’ for that SOOOOMEEEETHIIIIIING…

Virgil’s forehead sank onto the bar and squelched slightly. One of the saturated green-and-yellow-striped spill mats (the very ones his little brother had insisted were A SIGN that this was the place they should spend their rare evening off) oozed stale beer into his eyebrows.

He’d been adamant, despite the fact the place’s kitchen was closed for renovation and was almost empty as a result..

In retrospect three handfuls of peanuts plus the many lime wedges from the many beers he had consumed were insufficient stomach lining for a night out with an ex-WASP. He wasn’t even a massive fan of pale lager, particularly not by the bucketload. But, again, Gordo had been militant about his theme and had been so adorably excited about the “little green ship in a big yellow glass! It’s us in opposite-se-sez-sies!”

Yeah that should probably have been their cue to go home.

Well to the hotel.

Which was sort of home. Temporary home? One-night home? Where was the hotel anyway? Had they booked one? He frowned and there was another distracting squelch.

Virgil sat himself up and tried to subtly wring out his eyebrows.

Ooof, may have poked himself in the eye a little there… he blinked rapidly.

The barmaid gave him a look and Virgil did his best effort at a charming grin straight out of the Scott Tracy handbook.

She did not appear charmed.

Damnit. Stupid dimples. Dimples was cheating.

The barmaid walked past and unsubtly removed the glass containing the last third of his 13th pint. 14th? What even was a pint anyway? Imperial measures made zero sense.

Wait! He waved frantically and she returned with a wary expression. Virgil inserted his index and middle finger into the glass and extracted the lime wedge before giving her a wonky thumbs up and dropping it on the bar.

He shrugged and ate it anyway. Interestingly they weren’t even sour anymore.

When you’ve found that special thiiiiiiing…

His brother had covered at least three keys in one line there.

Maybe Virgil should have saved the limes to cram into his ear canals?

He rested his elbow on the bar and propped his chin up on his first and tried to give his brother a Look that meant “stop torturing my ears and let’s go back… to wherever.”

Gordon winked at him theatrically and refused to understand the Look.

Realistically Virgil was sleeping here anyway.

Because his tiny little baby brother who frankly should still be sleeping in a cot and wearing diapers could apparently drink like a fish as well as swim like one and he was in no way done yet. And Virgil had to keep up because he was bigger and it was a matter of pride and he had to keep an eye on the fish. Because the fish was very precious.

A precious fishy idiot who Virgil couldn’t help but love.

A fishy idiot that was now doing his utmost to drive the few remaining customers from the bar by monopolising the karaoke machine.

A simple line can make you laaaaaaugh or cry

Ouch.

The annoying thing was that Gordon could sing. Properly. Well, actually. Virgil enjoyed listening on the rare occasion Gordon didn’t realise he was being overheard.

But he refused to do it when he was in public. Instead they got… this.

Virgil had to acknowledge it took some skill to deliberately remain that out of tune.

At least he’d moved on from the rapping. Virgil’s eye twitched. Some therapy would be required to recover from that.

Although the ballads were not much better - the combo of the twinkly synth string backing and a screeching squid was a match made in hades.

The music swelled and Gordon caught his eye, stood up from the stool he’d perched on, boy band style, and pointed a slightly wobbly finger at his big brother. Ah ha! He wasn’t invincible after all! He was beginning to succumb.

Virgil was jolted back into the present with the realisation Gordon had suddenly forgotten to sing out of tune:

You'll find it in the deepest friendship

The kind you cherish all your life

And when you know how much that means

You've found that special thing

You're flying without wiiiiings.

Virgil sniffed and cursed his drunken brain for being cheesy. Gordon grinned at him then turned to lead a group of middle aged ladies in a passionate and atonal rendition of the middle eight.

He was impossible. Irascible.

Completely idiotic half the time.

Not quite invincible enough for Virgil’s liking.

As he slid slowly off the barstool, Virgil smiled sappily and proudly told the barmaid that Gordy was HIS special thing.

[whatgaviiformes]

Ficlet: (for FishTank Week)

All I've got in my for the moment is mini scenes, so here's a combo of prompts 1 and 2. :D

“Virg-?”

“No.” Virgil didn’t have the bandwidth for Gordon's Gordonness today. Not while the smudge on Thunderbird Two's wing, which he'd been trying to buff out all morning, was entirely Gordon's fault. See if he ever lets him pilot Two ever again.

“Aww come on, bro. I haven't even said anything yet!” Despite the blatant whine, there was a smile in his words. Which he was ignoring; Virgil was intentionally trying to focus on Two’s paint job. 

Gordon leaned in to intrude on Virgil's space, and he was forced to look at him. Not a hint of remorse, the little shit. 

Heavily, Virgil sighed. “Whatever it is you want, my answer's no.” 

“Two looks fine, Virgil, I’m don’t even see -”

“I do!” 

“Okay, big guns I guess.” Finally, Gordon’s expression cracked, a little too forced to be real. “Tickets to the Phil! Next time we are in the city,” Gordon bargained. His eyes twitched as he offered, “I'll even go with you.” The smile widened, losing no luster, as he pretended he was happy to provide such an option. 

Biting back a grin, Virgil crossed his arms. Considering Gordon couldn't sit still for more than five minutes and would often fall asleep within the first minute of an andante movement, the offer of the symphony was a serious trade indeed. Philharmonic for what, though?  “Ok, I'm listening.” 

“I need a wingman. Hold on, hear me out before you give me that look. There's this lecture…”

Apparently it was not just one lecture, but a series of them over the upcoming weekend. And for all his elusiveness earlier, Gordon had fully buried the lede, considering Monterey asked him specifically to guest speak. Not as International Rescue or the Olympic medalist, but solely based on an article he’d gotten published about dolphin pods and life cycles. 

He knew the one. It was a good article, as researched and thorough as it was approachable. Reading it, he could hear Gordon’s voice throughout, and Virgil knew Gordon thrived in public speaking. A bold thought, but there was a part of him that considered seriously: if Gordon had ever cared enough to try to go after Scott’s job, he probably could’ve done so based on his charisma alone. It was a good thing Gordon valued his own unapologetic authenticity more than the business acumen taught to them by their father. 

Gordon’s had been a different journey. 

Virgil loved that for him, and loved him for it. Much more than a silly paint smudge. 

“Gordon,” Virgil holds up a hand to interrupt him mid-pitch. “You can stop. Of course I’ll go with you to listen to your presentation.” Relief visibly coursed through the aquanaut, and Virgil flicked his microfiber cloth against his chest. “I’m still cashing in on the symphony, though.” 

“That’s fair.”  

“You could’ve just said you wanted company, you know. I would’nt’ve said no.” 

Gordon clapped him on the back, beaming. “Nah, what’s the fun in that? Besides, this is what we do. And I’m getting the better end of the deal, anyway. The show’ll be -  what? - three hours at the most. You’re the one that has to deal with three days of fish,” he squeezed his shoulders, laughing, “and three hours of me fidgeting.”

Virgil groaned. And it wasn’t because of Gordon’s strong grip on his shoulders. 

And just like that, Gordon released his hold and pranced off as quickly as he’d arrived. 

“You’re the worst,” Virgil shouted after him.

Gordon just shimmied away in response.

[liannelara-dracula]

Based on the hcs about how they behave in school, the little beef between Ruki and Reiji got me thinking 🧐

Hcs about they finding out that they like the same girl, but in the end she doesn't really care too much about neither of they and just interacts with them because she's polite? (She doesn't know about this beef between them, neither knows that they both like her and just think they're being friendly or smth)

Like, a girl that is a model student and etc but is very oblivious to their feelings, and is very difficult to impress?

Hi love,

This is a really good idea. I like it, I think it will be fun. Thanks for the idea anon.

-Liannelara

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ruki & Reiji like the same Woman (hcs)

They are both trying their damn hardest to gain your attention.

And they not only don’t get along but when you came into the picture, everything was a competition.

Of course, these two wouldn’t make it obvious like Ayato and Kino that they are trying to get your attention or that something is going on between them.

They are very discreet men and can come off a little dry.

Anyways, this all started when you walked into the library to pick out a book, causing them to both look up from their work since they heard a captivating feminine voice asking for the help of a librarian if they had a particular book. She had a delicate scent of perfume on her that only made her more attractive.

She had her half up and half down pinned by a bow in the back, her hairstyle and curled subtlety. She had such elegance and class when she walked and turned.

They were heavily entranced, though unlike Reiji, Ruki made the first move being the book expert that he is. He always had more luck than Reiji and today especially he was reading the same book this girl was asking about, it was his chance to talk to her and give it to her.

As she was aimlessly looking for the book to see if there was an extra copy she was too distracted to notice she had bumped into someone.

She put a hand over her lips as she mouthed an apology not expecting to have invaded someone’s space as she was looking.

“Pardon me, I hadn’t noticed you standing by. I am so sorry.” She’d apologize, almost enough to guilt trip a man with her sweet voice.

“No worries, you were looking for (b/n), right?”

“Oh yes, where did you find it?”

“I was reading it, but you can keep it. I’ve read it before, it’s a good book.”

She stared at him surprised, “But this book is so thick how can you manage to read it through again.”

“I’ve read almost everything on this shelf in my spare time, I’m Ruki.” He’d say

She smiled, “Y/n.”

Reiji is so jealous!

This automatically makes Reiji want to get involved and try to impress her next which he does so in chemistry class.

Reiji will be much more charismatic and it is incredibly compelling seeing he hardly uses this part of himself.

So you can imagine he'd catch the beaker she almost dropped swiftly or caught her in his arms.

I mostly see it that she trips and he catches her, causing them to exchange a fair amount of eye contact before thanking him.

If Ruki is in the same class it means he's going to have to do more than just recommending a book because Reiji got to have her in his arms first.

better get moving Ru

So everyday they get a chance to be around her they try to have her attention and try to win her over in some way and it is just a constant battle.

And both of them know it is competition even if they haven't said it.

Reiji would try to talk about it and bring it up at some point because he wants to be firm with Ruki about him wanting this woman and that he will not lose.

whereas, Ruki will act like he doesn't know what he's talking about.

"I see that you are fond of the student, just as I am." Reiji would say, adjusting his glasses.

Ruki would turn to look at him with a smirk, "I don't know what you mean?"

"Although you may play this off in a stoic manner, I know that Y/n is in your thoughts. Tell me, do you care for her as a woman?"

"Y/n, is just a girl, Reiji. Why are you worked up about a human?"

"Well then, if that's your answer what I will do shall not matter."

"Even if you plan on something, she and I have plans. "

“I suggest you back down.”

“I threat doesn’t stop me from pursuing.”

Features (some they may like)

Pretty dark hair

wide hips

glass skin

bratty attitude

pretty laugh

intelligent

Elegant vocabulary

Reiji

If she is part of the chess club, he wants to have chess matches with her. But since Ruki is good at chess he will participate in matches w her.

In fact, they would play against in each other to see who would ask her out.

Literally, winner gets to ask her out.

If it’s just her and Reiji, he'd prefer that she loses so that she'll repeatedly compete against him since she is probably 2nd in line.

He also loves these matches with you because he locks eye contact with you and gets to talk to you as well.

He invites you to walk with him in the school yard to observe nature and fascinates you with knowledge about the flowers or science of things to which you had no idea about

He starts off with this small talk and soon moves on to deeper talks where you both exchange conversation about things which are more personal.

You flash a compelling smile and a laugh escapes your lips at something being discussed and Reiji, deep down finds himself in awe as this is the first time a woman was beautiful laughing without covering her mouth.

It is a delicate display of beauty which most hide which keeps him interested in pursuing you.

While he is stubborn and trying to convince himself he is merely amused, this is not the case as he is defiantly interested romantically.

Reiji, although he won’t deliberately show nor say it. He wants you all to himself, he doesn’t want you to spend your time with other men.

He’d like it if he were the only man you paid attention to the most.

Becomes frustrated if you speak of Ruki in high regard because he feels challenged.

Truly he's giving his all to have you.

And the more he finds that there is no progress the harder he is going to try.

Due to his high interest he finds many ways for you to be alone with you.

He will eventually get comfortable speaking to you, and even go as far as teasing you.

However, once he founds out the situation is completely one sided he is upset.

Reiji tells himself he simply can move on, but truthfully he doesn't want to.

He wants to change your mind.

If he can't he probably would distance himself gradually and slowly stop talking to you.

Ruki

In the library he likes to move the books that you’ve been looking for up high so that he can grab them for you.

He’ll leave foot notes at the bottom for you.

Some questions and messages being suggestive to you as well.

Sometimes she’d write back in them and exchange in the conversation.

Loves to also hand you the book so that your hands touch.

He loves to surprise you at your locker and chat with you to get Reiji jealous since Reiji doesn’t have the talent to just casually speak with you.

Won’t show what he is bothered/jealous when Reiji comes around.

Has invited you over for dinner at his place, which is definitely one up on Reiji. lol

He cooked for you there and got to talk to you for a long time.

Since he knows Nordic languages he'd teach you them.

If you needed help in cooking he'd offer to help you in cooking class to give you tips and to show you how to cut.

Mostly so that his hands are on yours and for him to whisper and say things to your ear.

Would say quotes to you from poems or books to keep you interested or questioning.

Would teach you how to dance and have fun in the middle of it by breaking the rules and dipping you instead.

leaves you messages in your locker about how you looked nice but you don't know they are from him.

Has the upper hand because he was once human and Reiji never was so its easier for him to keep a conversation.

While part of this is amusing to compete against Reiji to win over a woman's heart he is also interested in pursuing you.

Of course in terms of feelings once he comes to terms with himself and understands that you do not feel anything for either he is a little bummed out the game ended but mostly because you weren't interested.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[king-bumis-armpit]

Hey! If you are still looking for maiko prompts.

You could write a sour zuko finding out that Mai and kei lo broke up. I like imagining ways for him to find out and what his reaction would be.

And I’m always a fan of stories where Mai runs away when zuko is banished, or try to smuggle herself into his ship.

Anyway, have fun!

Put a Ring on It

Summary: Kei Lo buys an engagement ring. Zuko freaks out. 

“I’m thinking something gold and traditional.” Good, Zuko thought bitterly. At least Mai will hate it. He had well and truly lost her. He had lost her to another man.

Author’s Note: This idea was given to me by a lovely anon! If you have any Maiko fic ideas that you want me to write, send them my way! And thank you, if you already have <3

Gene Luen Yang wants me to believe it took Mai and Zuko 3 years to get back together. Ha! I spit in your face, good sir. This fic will do it in one! (I’m kidding, I’m kidding… mostly. I hate the comics but I’m sure Gene’s a decent fellow.)

This fic takes place 8 months after the events of Smoke and Shadow, vol 3. It’s canon compliant up to that point, and canon compliant with Korra, but I know nothing about the comics that chronologically happen in between so it might contradict those. For the purpose of this fanfiction, marriage proposals in the Fire Nation are the same as modern proposals with an engagement ring. 

Also! Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the moms out there! You’re the best!!

Zuko made his way quickly through the rain, hood pulled tight over his head. He was out with only a few plainclothes guards today, hoping to maintain some anonymity. It was only a week until the Feast of the Mother of Faces, and Zuko had yet to find a suitable gift for his own mom. He wanted to get her something especially nice since they had been apart for so many years. He was pretty sure his last gift to her was a macaroni necklace, and figured he had to at least up his game from that.

His uncle had given him some recommendations of places to shop, and the first of which was a small but well-known jewelry store in the Caldera. As he slipped inside, he noted that the place was nearly empty except for the store clerk. His guards would be watching the door from a tavern across the street, and were instructed not to check in unless he spent over an hour in the building.

The spectacled shopkeeper looked up at his arrival, “Can I help you find anything, sir?”

“I don’t think so?” Zuko replied. “I’m just browsing for a Feast of the Mother gift.”

“Ah,” the man nodded in understanding. He gestured to the wall to Zuko’s right. “We have a lovely selection of necklaces and pendants that might be suitable. Prices are listed on the tags. Let me know if you have any questions or if you would like me to remove any items from the case.”

Zuko smiled and gave the man a slight bow. This was shaping up to be easier than he expected. He looked through the glass at the different options. He noticed some that were similar to pieces he recognized from his childhood. There was one in particular, a gaudy and ruby-encrusted flame, the size of his fist, that reminded him of something his father would buy. Best to stay away from those. There were some cloth chokers, similar to one that Katara occasionally wore when she was in the fire nation. He wasn’t quite sure they would be his mother’s style, but perhaps he should send a memo to Aang. (For a monk, who swore off material things, that kid sure bought a lot of gifts for his girlfriend. The thought made Zuko smile.) 

Then, he caught sight of a delicate silver chain. Most women in the Fire Nation preferred gold, but Zuko knew one woman who hadn’t. 

— —

“Silver matches my knives, Zuko. The aesthetic of it all is very important to me.”

Zuko snorted. They had decided to explore the numerous palace basements, and had come across one of the many treasuries, nearly all of it gold. Mai had immediately protested the lack of her favorite metal.

“Well gold is the emblematic color of our nation, so most of the royal jewelry is gold. You’re going to have to get used to it eventually.” Zuko blushed when he realized the implication of his words.

“Oh? Why is that?” Mai asked, fixing him with a satisfied smirk. 

His cheeks were burning, but he decided to play it cool. “I plan to put a golden crown on your head one day… if that’s alright with you.”

Mai kissed his cheek, and then his nose, and then his lips. “I think that’ll be alright. One day. But I really would prefer silver.” 

He cupped her cheek with his palm and guided her in for another kiss. That was the last room they managed to explore that day.

— — 

And even though they were no longer together, Zuko thought about her more than he cared to admit. He leaned in to examine the silver chain. It carried a small charm, about the size of his thumbnail. The charm itself was also silver, fashioned into the shape of a plum blossom. A wine colored garnet– again, a favorite of Mai’s–  was nestled in the center of the flower. Zuko felt his heart seize. It was perfect, but not for the person he was supposed to be shopping for. 

He contemplated buying it anyway. Maybe he could stop by Mura’s after this and place an order for a bouquet. Surely his mom would want flowers. And if Mai was there, he could give her the necklace. What’s a gift between friends? 

The sound of the door opening broke his reverie. The rain had gotten heavier since he entered the shop, and the new customer had practically flung himself into the building, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

The shopkeeper seemed slightly irritated by this noisy appearance, but nonetheless asked him the question he had asked Zuko. “Can I help you find anything, sir?”

The man removed his hood, and Zuko felt his muscles turn to ice. It was Kei Lo.

“Oh yes please!” He gave a good natured smile, all cheerfulness and boyish charm as he swaggered up to the counter. The universe was taunting Zuko. Of course he couldn’t buy a ridiculously expensive present for Mai. She had a boyfriend. She had made that quite clear when he last saw her eight months ago.

“What are you looking for?” the man asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Zuko noticed how Kei Lo shuffled, seeming nervous. “I– I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”

Zuko was going to be sick. He was going to throw up. Right on the floor. Right in front of the store clerk. And right in front of Mai’s soon-to-be-fiance.

“Congratulations!” The storekeeper seemed to have fully gotten over irritation and beamed from ear to ear.

“Thanks!” Kei Lo said sheepishly. “I haven’t asked her yet, but we’ve talked about it before so I’m confident she’ll say yes.”

Zuko took several deep breaths and forced himself to quietly turn and face the display case once again. Kei Lo obviously hadn’t noticed him yet, and he knew that any interaction between them would be a disaster.

“Have you discussed ring preferences?” the older man asked.

“No, but I’m thinking something gold and traditional.” Good, Zuko thought bitterly. At least Mai will hate it. 

As the two walked over to the ring cases and discussed the pieces, Zuko’s thoughts began to spiral. How had this happened? He had well and truly lost her. Mai, his soulmate, his best friend, his plum blossom. He had lost her to another man. Except…

Except he hadn’t yet! Kei Lo hadn’t asked her yet. He could buy his own engagement ring from a different shop and ask her right now! Or he could run there and ask her without one. 

“Prince Zuko!” He heard his Uncle’s voice in his head, echoing the wisdom of the past. “You never think these things through! You had no plan! You could have died!” Then he said something about ice and chasing the avatar. The exact words were hazy, but the sentiment was clear. He was too impulsive. 

He needed to wait and collect more information. Then he could form a plan and– and then what? If Mai wanted to marry Kei Lo, then he knew he had to support her. He wanted her to be happy more than he wanted his own happiness. But when he spoke to her in the Dragonbone Catacombs she herself admitted that she didn’t like Kei Lo as much as she had liked him. He cursed himself. He had driven her away and broken her heart twice! Now she was scared to trust him. But if he could just convince her to give him one more chance, he could fix it. He had learned how painful it was to live without her, and he would not repeat his mistakes.

His heart ached to imagine Mai in a wedding dress at someone else’s side. Even as a kid, when he pictured his wedding, he pictured Mai as the bride.

— — 

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Little Azula tugged at their mother’s sleeve. “My friend Mai is here and we want to play a game with Zuko! Please! Ty Lee is sick, so we need another person.” Zuko rolled his eyes. He considered Mai to be a shared friend since they all used to play together at Ember Island, but lately Azula had been calling her “my friend Mai.” It made him angry and he didn’t know why.

Ursa patted her daughter’s head. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you think, Zuko?”

He crossed his arms. He remembered what happened last week with the apple. But if Ty Lee was sick then Mai was alone with Azula. What if his sister was teasing her? Or telling her lies about him? He needed to intervene. “Sure. I would love to play with you Azula.” His tone of voice did not match his words, but his sister didn’t care.

“Good!” Azula grabbed his hand and marched him into the fountain garden. Zuko knew that this couldn’t possibly end well.

Mai was sitting under a tree, twirling a knife. She looked up at their approach and raised an eyebrow, “I thought you went to get mochi.”

Azula shrugged. “I changed my mind. I want to play a game.”

Mai looked at Zuko with great trepidation. He couldn’t blame her. Last time Azula said those words, he had tackled her.

“No firebending this time, Azula,” he ordered.

“Of course not,” Azula agreed. “We’re going to play wedding. I’ll be the officiant and you two will be the couple.”

It took all of Zuko’s discipline to not stare at Mai and search her face for a reaction. He heard her sigh, and he felt his stomach drop.

“Well,” Azula prompted. “Come here.” She made Mai and Zuko stand facing each other while she launched into a monologue about the rich culture of the Fire Nation. She went on for a while and Zuko was so bored that he almost forgot to be embarrassed. When Azula wasn’t looking, he noticed Mai yawning. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. “And naturally,” Azula carried on. “Fire bending comes from the breath. In order to symbolize the joining of flames, the couple will now share a breath and share a kiss.” She looked at them expectantly.

“Azula, I don’t think we should do this,” Zuko protested.

His sister smirked. “Why not? You don’t want to kiss Mai? She’s not pretty enough for you?”

Zuko saw red. “Mai is really pretty! You take that back right now!”

“If she’s so pretty, then kiss her!”

Mai cleared her throat. Pink dusted her cheeks, but aside from that her expression remained neutral, “Can’t we just pretend?”

“What do you mean?” Azula asked. 

Mai shrugged. “Like this.” She leaned slightly closer to Zuko and kissed the air. 

“That looks ridiculous,” Azula said.

“That’s weird. I thought you said you were better than Ty Lee at everything.” Mai’s words made no sense to Zuko, and apparently they made no sense to Azula either.

“Well yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

Mai smirked, “I bet Ty Lee would be able to pretend. She’s more creative and she has a better imagination.”

Azula was irate. Zuko knew first hand that people were not allowed to be better than her at anything. “I have an idea,” she replied. Zuko shuddered, that was Azula’s scary voice. “Next time, Ty Lee can be the bride. I bet Zuko would kiss her.”

For once, Mai’s facade cracked. Her face scrunched up and Zuko was afraid she was going to cry. “No!” Zuko cut in. “I don’t want to play this game with Ty Lee.” Azula huffed, but Mai looked up at him hopefully. He took her hands and kissed the air like she had. “I now pronounce us husband and wife.”

“Hey!” Azula pinched his shoulder. “That’s my line.”

Thankfully he was spared a confrontation by the arrival of his mother. “Zuko! Azula! It’s time for dinner.” She caught sight of Zuko and Mai’s clasped hands and smiled. “You’re welcome to stay too, Mai. I can send a servant to your mother to let her know.”

Mai politely declined, and Zuko was sad to see her go. That night, he thought for the first time about what his wedding might be like. He imagined hands entwined with own, slightly colder than his. They were soft except for the side of her index finger and thumb where she gripped her knives.

— —

Zuko caught himself staring at his own hands, and tried to shake off the memory. Since that day, he couldn’t help but picture Mai as his bride. It was almost involuntary. But if she had truly grown to love Kei Lo, then he would have to get over it. His mouth tasted like ash.

Zuko pulled his hood down, to the point where it hung in his face obnoxiously, and he walked over to a display case of bracelets that was closer to the rings. He tried to appear nonchalant as he looked over the merchandise, but he listened to the other two men intently.

Kei Lo was in the middle of speaking. “I walked into her shop one day on a whim. She was so beautiful. I asked her out on the spot and the rest is history.”

The older man smiled. “How lovely! I met my husband at work as well. He came in to buy a gift for his grandmother and he kept coming back. Eventually, I asked him out because I was worried he would bankrupt himself spending so much money here.”

Kei Lo laughed. “Wait, he bought something every time he came in?”

“Yes,” the shopkeeper shook his head. “I think he felt guilty for wasting my time. But we’ve been together for thirty years at this point and I don’t consider any of them wasted.”

“Wow! My girl and I have only been together for seven months.” Kei Lo replied. Zuko huffed. That was wrong. He and Mai had been dating for nine months at least according to what he learned from Ty Lee. Kei Lo really should know that.

“What’s her name?” the shopkeeper asked. Zuko shuffled close still, pretending to admire the bracelets in the sale section. Unlike the others that were behind glass, these hung from artful stands. He allowed his fingers to graze a band of beaded obsidian.

“Her name is Machi,” Kei Lo answered.

Zuko spun around, but his sleeve had caught on the stand and the entire thing toppled over, making a terrible noise and scattering bracelets across the floor.

“I– I– I’m so sorry,” Zuko’s face burned hotter than the sun. 

Kei Lo looked at him stunned. “Zuko?”

The shopkeeper’s eyes went wide. With the scar and the name, he put it together. “Fire Lord!” He bowed at the waist, and– for a moment– Zuko was worried the man would lose his glasses. “My deepest apologies. Had I known it was you I would have helped you pick something out for your venerable mother–”

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Zuko reassured him and the older man rose from his bow. “I’m sorry. I knocked over your display stand and the bracelets–” Zuko righted the stand and began to gather the fallen items, but the shopkeeper would not have it.

“Oh no!” He rushed over to help. “You do not need to clean my shop, Lord Zuko. Thanks to you, my husband and I were finally married under the law.” 

Zuko smiled, “I’m glad. But still, let me help you. It was my fault after all.”

Kei Lo clapped a hand on the shopkeeper’s back. “I’ll help too.” 

The three of them quickly subdued the mess. The shopkeeper noticed a few damaged pieces which he took to his back room for repairs. Zuko made a note to send the man compensation. 

While the store owner was removing and cataloging the damaged pieces, Zuko and Kei Lo were left alone. Kei Lo broke the silence. “So… How’s Mai?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko answered honestly, and the awkward silence descended once more.

Zuko felt relief course through his body. After making a fool out of himself, he could finally take it in. Mai and Kei Lo had broken up. Kei Lo was engaged to someone else. Kei Lo thought that Zuko and Mai were talking.

The first part was wonderful news. Zuko felt it was safe to assume that Mai had dumped Kei Lo. When he released Kei Lo from the prison, the man had made it abundantly clear that he was with Mai to stay. Besides, the thought of Mai sending him on his way made Zuko very, very happy. The only potential concern was that the breakup had happened a long time ago, at least seven months. And, in all that time, Mai had made no effort to see him. For all he knew, she could be with someone else too.

“Umm…” Zuko did not know a subtle way to ask what he wanted to know. “Have you heard if Mai is with anyone right now?”

Kei Lo shook his head. “To be honest, I’m surprised she’s not back with you. She was normally so… neutral, I guess. You know how she is. But when she talked about you, a light would enter her eyes. She would go on and on…”

Zuko felt a spark in his chest. “Really?” He could hear the pathetic hope in his own voice. “She seemed so hesitant to trust me again. I thought she hated my guts.”

“No,” Kei Lo smiled wistfully. “I take it you don’t know how we broke up.”

“To be honest, I thought you were proposing to her.”

Kei Lo let out a raucous laugh. “HA! Agni, that’s why you bumped into the bracelet stand. Were you spying on us?”

Zuko laughed along sheepishly. “Kind of. I really did come here to get something for my mom, but when I heard your request… Part of me wanted to run to Mai right then and make a grand declaration.”

“I would have paid to see that. Front page news: The Fire Lord’s Shocking Proposal.”

“Yeah,” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing I didn’t.”

“Well, I was going to say that after all the stuff with the Safe Nation Society, Mai and I had a talk. I told her that if we were going to keep dating, I needed to know that she was over you. She has this one portrait of the two of you, and she keeps it in her dresser. I told her to get rid of it or I was gone. She made her choice.”

Zuko remembered that painting. He had one very similar to it in his own room that he kept on his desk. His was in ink and hers was in color. 

And then he remembered that he should probably express some sympathy for Kei Lo. “It seems like it all worked out for you in the end though. I wish you and Machi the best.”

Kei Lo nodded. “Thank you. I’m so glad I found her. I was really upset when Mai and I broke up, but it all seems so trivial now. For what it’s worth, I think you should reach out to Mai. See if she still has that painting.”

“I think you’re right.” The two men shook hands. If Zuko had learned anything from this experience, it was that he didn’t want to wait anymore and risk Mai moving on completely. He needed to find her and apologize and beg for her to come back. 

When the store owner returned, Zuko purchased the plum blossom necklace.

Endnotes: I’m open to writing a part two where Zuko gives Mai the necklace if people would be interested. (I mean, I might anyway even if you all aren’t, lol.) But I wanted to get this out close to Mother’s Day since I made up the Fire Nation version of Mother’s Day for this fic. And, a big HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all the moms!!!

Also, I couldn’t get into it in the story, but Kei Lo is that guy who falls for his barista, right? He went on like one date with Mai and then decided she was his reason for living. So I thought it would be hilarious if that’s how he met his next girlfriend! And then he could ambiguously say that he met her at the shop where she works which is also how he met Mai. Anyway, it was a funny head canon that made me laugh.

Thank you again to the anon who suggested this! I hope I didn’t make it too silly. I love putting our dramatic boy in ridiculous situations. Also, I plan on writing your other idea as well at some point, but this one demanded to be written immediately <3

[waterfallofspace]

🤧😩😭💦😳📝 for chu//uya and go//jo if u would like to please 👁👁

Hello ily I am so insane about them and I am losing my mind at getting an excuse to rant about them so AHHHHH!!! thank you 💗💗 ~From This Ask Game~

Gonna make this two posts because it's... it's gonna be so long. Part One: C/huuya~

~~~~~

🤧: What does their sneeze sound like? (Description, spelling, or both!)

Something little but fiesty, like him <3 Sooo, kinda vocal, you definitely can hear his voice in it, and if you know him well enough, you'll be able to tell from another room that it was him. Somethin' like "hh'ayshhhuh-! ak'yiezzshoo-! kih'tiezshhiew-!" BUT, if it's a bad itch, or allergy, and he's not managing to stifle, it'll sometimes dip into rapid, and that's more like "ashh- yieshh- ayyshhh'oo-! arshhh- krshhh- kashhh'oo-!" but those are more rare for him. He also stifles or half-stifles quite often. "engxt-! nkKxt-! hk'enXTiew-! nkXGT'shiew-! hd'tshhiew-!"

😩: Do they tend to sneeze just once or twice, or multiple times? Do they have fits frequently or rarely? Does how many times they sneeze depend on the cause?

If it's just a natural, no cause, maybe he'll get one/two. But most of the time it's caused by a smell, allergy, sickness, or wine <3. And in all of those cases, he'll be lucky to get less then five. However, in his defense, they're usually a bit spread out, not super rapid. (unless it's a really bad tickle~)

😭: When they’re sick, do they try to downplay their symptoms, or do they treat every little cold like the plague? Do they whine a lot, or do they complain quietly or even just in their head?

Somehow both?? He's definitely a "I'm fine, leave me alone" type of person, denial till the very end, he's ALWAYS okay and will work through anything. But at the same time, if he's feverish enough, or with people he feels safe with, if he's vulnerable, he'll be the type to complain. Sneeze, whine, gasp, repeat. But this is very rare for him, you can count the amount of time's it's happened on one hand. He's also the type to complain but about others, not his own symptoms. So if he has a headache, any noise or bright light or annoyance (Dazai <3) is suddenly 10 times more annoying, and worth complaining over. But if it gets into genuine complaining territory, not playful asshole banter, he immediately stops.

💦: How wet are their sneezes? Do they spray barely at all, or are you gonna need an umbrella? Do they try to cover at all, or just let it go? Do they sniffle a lot when they’re sick or allergies are bugging them?

Not really wet, though because he'll have longer fits, and tends to get congested from them, there will definitely be a light mist by the end. He also covers, absolutely, with his gloves, or hat, or an arm, unless he's too feverish, or specifically trying to annoy someone. Also he does sniffle, like a lot, despite trying to blow his nose to make it stop. It happens anyways, whether from irritation, congestion, or just instinct/habit. He annoys himself with it at times <3

😳: Are they embarrassed by their sneezes, or do they just not really care? Do they apologize after sneezing? Do they say “sorry!” or “excuse me!” or anything like that? If they’re embarrassed about it, why?

Embarrassed. He doesn't like any show of weakness, and honestly... the humanity aspect wrapped up in it makes him a bit uncomfortable at times. He likes feeling human, but it brings up complicated thoughts he doesn't want to address. He won't apologize, though if he's not really thinking about it, (or if he's with people he trusts/respects) an 'scuse me' will slip out here and there. Pluuuus, his sneezes are rather distinct, with the 'iew' sounds especially, and how much of his voice is in them, so he tends to feel quite embarrassed by their volume. (especially compared to some of his co-workers with MUCH more 'Mafia Appropriate' sneezes.)

📝: Quick! Come up with a scenario for them! It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just something you think would be cute or something you’d like to see with them!

Thanks to you, 'wine snz Chuuya' has been LIVING in my mind, but honestly feverish Chuuya always lives there too, so let's see if I can combine them into something awful~ (feat. Soukoku bc... well... I just can't take how much I love them~)

Dazai arrives at the Mafia HQ, fully intending on tormenting his dear Chibi. I mean, it's been nearly a week since his last torment session, he's going into withdrawl.

He expected a bit of resistance, maybe a challenge, some banter, possibly even a punch. What he didn't expect was to find Chuuya nearly passed out at his desk, empty bottle on the floor, glass precariously tilted in his hand.

He rouses at the footsteps, gazing up at Dazai with eyes clouded by alcohol and... something else. He manages a deeply slurred "H'llo thr D- Dazz... Dahhhzai!" Followed by a barely covered rapid fit.

Well, definitely drunk. Though judging by the congestion soaking through the corners of his words, pretty sick too. This can't be good. With a moment of kindness he'd never admit to later, Dazai takes it upon himself to bring Chuuya home.

Upon touching him, he expects the normal feeling of powers being stripped. The heat however, comes as an unwelcome surprise.

BLAH BLAH he takes Chuuya home, Chuuya drunk snz the whole time, Chuuya too fevered to take care of himself so Dazai has to help him, clingy drunk/feverish Chuuya grabs his arm and won't let go, so Dazai has to lay on the couch with Chibi on his chest, and then some vulnerability stuff happens, including Chuuya admitting that he was drinking to try and cope with the nightmares that come with the fever dreams </3

THAT WAS WAYYYY TOO LONG- I'm so sorry <333 but also thank you for the ask!!! I love my guys 😭😭 NOW ONTO PART TWO! (and also uh... I very well may write that fic bc I've been wanting to write some more Soukoku angst lately, but I make no promises for how fast I'd do it haha~)

[diamondsheep]

Happy Birthday to the Best Cook Ever 💛💛💛

[luxaofhesperides]

(yourlocalcorviddad)

Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??

(part one)

Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.

How could they, when they lived states apart? 

The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 

Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.

And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 

The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 

“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 

“One state left, yeah?”

“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”

“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 

This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.

It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.

Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 

“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 

Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 

Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.

“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”

“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”

Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”

“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”

“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”

“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 

There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.

But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 

Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 

That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 

They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.

He likes it here. 

Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 

He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 

Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 

The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 

They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.

“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 

“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”

Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.

He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”

“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”

“Why a pet snake?”

“Just feel like it.”

“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”

“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”

Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”

The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 

It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 

For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 

At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 

He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 

“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  

“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”

“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”

There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 

Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 

He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.

“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”

“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”

“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.

“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.

He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 

Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.

He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.