#not sure how to fix the frame rate but this will have to do

[hayabuuusa]

Brave Witches, Episode 6 “Good Luck”

[classicalchan]

liar

pairing: bangchan x f! reader

rating: sfw

tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan

wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)

your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.

you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.

"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."

he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.

you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.

you wished he would.

you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.

it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.

everything you can't have.

it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.

he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.

and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.

so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.

sometimes he said your name.

before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.

his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.

“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.

more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.

“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”

you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.

“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”

his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.

“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”

your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.

“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.

his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?

“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.

he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.

or maybe you were just reading too much into it.

you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.

“you really think i’d lie to you?”

“you wouldn’t?” he asks.

you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.

“no,” you confirm. “never.”

he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.

“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”

your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.

“yeah?”

his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.

"do you like me?" he whispers.

the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.

you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.

"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"

he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.

"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."

you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?

"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."

you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.

"you what, sweetheart?"

the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.

"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."

he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.

you didn't want to break your heart.

he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.

"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."

and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.

you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.

"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."

his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.

"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."

you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.

taglist: @tinysoftie

NAVIGATION

join the taglist <3

[jazjelspen]

scarlet and silver lining (part 1)

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc qwq/apologies for the pacing as well!!!! It’s 1AM LMAO—)

[chapter 1]

Sure, you didn’t actually want to redeem yourself.

Personally, you knew you were in the right place and were meant to be in this spot in the afterlife. You weren’t bloodthirsty and power hungry like the rest of the monsters down here but your sins were from your reckless decisions and you knew you couldn’t take it back.

So in turn, you didn’t truly trust the princess’s claims and theories.

But here you were, in her hotel through her doorstep. Dragging you along by your wrist being gentle but also filled with such excitement that she might’ve tugged a bit too hard for your preference.

As she led you to introduce yourself to the other residents and staff, you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly you let yourself get into this predicament.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice.

_______________________________

Your hands stopped from fixing your hair, you had been stunned from preparing yourself for the next twenty minutes you’d be on air. Your face contorting while your eyes stared dead at your reflection at the mirror decorated with bright little light bulbs all around it’s frame as they shined their lights on you. Your hands shaking slightly and barley starting to sweat.

Why exactly were you shocked? Your boss.

“See here ____, what I need you to do is to simply get in through inside the princess’s little hotel and spy for me for a few weeks here and there! Document everything for me, whichever way you can. “

Vox, your boss, was ordering you on a new mission for you to do. He wouldn’t have you do these kinds of things regularly unless he needed some kind of spy or a pretty face for a segment of his show to get more ratings or as a distraction of sorts. Although lately he’s been sounding more aggravated, annoyed—dying to get what he wants. He was facing the set his crew were preparing as they fixed a few lights, checked if the cameras were functioning, etc.

It was good that he was facing that way and you the other, for if he saw your look of shock and slight fear spreading across your face like a disease he would probably question you like some kind of unruly detective for it.

But why wouldn’t you react this way? After all, he was asking you to spy and be around your father. The man you were ashamed of being connected to. He didn’t know this— he didn’t have to know this. For you knew Vox would simply use and wear you out as a pawn, overwork you, maybe torture you and hurt you to get specific answers.

He wasn’t afraid of doing anything to get what he wants anyway.

“Tape recorder, journal, write it on some fucking menstrual pad I don’t fucking care. I simply need to know what that fucker is thinking of doing next with Lucifer’s daughter now on his fucking shoulder.”

He snapped, static overtaking his voice at the end of his sentences. Clearly absolutely finished with this entire situation especially since for all you knew the last time someone tried to sneak in for him they were caught in the matter of a day, and if you didn’t have a direct connection to Vox he would’ve sent you first.. but now you were one of his only options until he really got frustrated.

“Oh but do this for me and you’ll get your own little studio! Your own show! Be your own boss, have your own crew.. you get the idea. All financially supported by me! Oh and you even get to live by yourself.. although—

I still own you. Get that. But you get your little artistic freedom huh sweetheart? What do you say? Do this little favor for me? If you don’t I’ll simply.. kill you.

Or throw you in the streets. Depending on how badly you fuck up you’ll get either one of the two! You’ll die either way.”

You were left a bit shocked, the immense dump of information overwhelming you so. “I—I—“

“Good.” He cut you off.. geez. “You start in two days, two days to get what you need and to at least plan how you’ll keep me updated. And remember, you give me all the information either throughout your stay there or you spit it all out when I need you to still be here on the job.” He fixed his bow tie walking towards the set to start the broadcast, a strong frown decorating his screen before hiding his stress with a cocky smile for the cameras.

You looked at your reflection with a grim look on your face, heart sinking and a shaky sigh escaped.

You didn’t want to see him again. You couldn’t.. you— wouldn’t.

But you needed to do it whether you liked it or not. You knew this.

Survive, get a few more perks and bonuses that would very much make you live your afterlife a bit more comfortably.

It’s just gonna be a month right?— Fuck.. Vox didn’t specify how long simply just… a few weeks. Most likely he just wants you to be there as long as you could.

Keep your life, get a better job, better home home, stay protected. That’s what you’ve been focusing for all these years—

Why stop now.

____________________________________

Dragged by the princess you were stopped in front of a group of sinners, your other hand almost losing its grip on your suitcase but managed to catch it by the tips of your fingers. The sweat from the anxiety that was accumulating while on your way here.

It weirded you out a bit that Charlie didn’t react to your drenched hand. maybe she was too overwhelmed with emotions as well to notice?…

Charlie set you in front of a pink spider, someone you knew all too well from the constant advertisements, short interactions with him, and Valentino’s undying yapping, Angel Dust.

“Angel, meet ____, _____ meet Angel!! She’s going to stay here for a chance at redemptiooon!! How amazing!” Her excitement was pouring out like thunder and lightening, just simply uncontainable.

The pink soul darted its eyes at you with a sense of familiarity. You knew being a known figure would be a bit of a challenge but god— you really wanted that place to yourself.

“Heyy.. Angel..” you waved a little sheepishly, knowing how awkward this feels for you at least.

Angel eyed you a bit intensely, but you knew deep down he sorta understood why you’d be here as well— at least not knowing that Vox himself sent you here—maybe he thinks that your presence is due to the same reason he’s away from Valentino. Needing an escape from your abusers and bosses was something he understood all too well.

“Hiya cutie, didn’t expect to see you here of all places.” He smirked as he waved back at you but in a more confident and laid back way than you did.

Charlie paused at his words, “Oh? You two know eachother?—“

“Oh.. I know this adorable face anywhere!” Angel exclaimed proudly with one of his arms reaching over to squish one of your cheeks playfully, you laughing a bit due to the slight awkwardness of the situation but also because he was one of the very few people you never had issues with despite how much you guys never really talked much.

“She’s a real darling, hard worker and all. Although.. didn’t think your boss was that bad as to make you want to run in here of all places..”

“I was about to say— aren’t you that chick that is on TV for that one overlord’s show or somethin’…” a low and almost growly voice spoke from slightly farther away.

Looking towards that particular direction you are met with a cat-like person, a furry soul with fluffy ears and a seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol the way he drank down a large bottle of cheap booze like water.

Your shoulders raised up a bit in embarrassment, smiling as a way to cover up your nervousness that was already slipping.

“Didn’t we also literally catch Pentious trying to work for him literally not that long ago?.. At this point they aren’t even trying to hide it by sending her here.” Spoke another, this time a more serious female voice descended from a mature woman with long silver hair and an ‘X’ over her eye that resembled those of the exorcists.. huh.

You shook your hands together a bit as you tried to defend yourself in a way, not wanting to be caught this easily “Oh nonono!.. I’m not here because my boss sent me I— I just..—“

“Yknow what Vagina,” Angel interrupted you to glare at the woman that spoke “If you knew anything about how the V’s treat their employees you wouldn’t blame her and I for wanting to be away from them and anything work related.. got it toots?”

Your heart warmed slightly but also let out a huge sigh of relief. Maybe that wasn’t the real reason why you were here but you were glad to know that Angel was someone you could relate the most due to your very similar situations.

“Yea Vaggie! Let’s give her a chance! If Angel knows her and if we make sure she’s here for reals then she’s a perfect second official resident!!”

The girl, now named Vaggie by Charlie, rolls her eyes as she lets out a sigh. “Can we at least check if she has no electronics on her. If this turns out to be another Pentious I will not hesitate this time.”

A single glare from her one eye piercing you with a sharp and merciless spike. Making you feel even more nervous and unwelcomed but.. you knew you had to just keep going..

“Oh Vaggie no need to be so rude to our new guest! We can do those checks later! Right now it’s introduction time!!” She exclaimed almost jumping up a down, a bit too joyous for your liking.

Angel noticed this and side eyed you while whispering a cheeky comment to you “Ms. Rainbow pants here may be a bit much but you’ll get used to it sweetcheeks.” He said, with a tone more sounding of an older brother of sorts.

You smiled a bit at him but then looked away to try to relax, not excited to be ‘introduced’ to someone you knew was in the far.. far corner of it all.

“Oh and this is Vaggie! My girlfriend and manager of this establishment! If you have any issues or concerns you may check in with her, she’s a-ma-zing!” Despite making her sound helpful and less.. terrifying. You couldn’t help but still feel rather intimidated.

Vaggie continued to glare at you with a clear distrust in you. You just waved at her shyly as well, trying to at least not seem as dangerous as she may think you are.

Until Charlie once again dragged you to four other figures, the fourth one a bit behind the first three. “And this is Husk the bartender, Nifty our housekeeper and cook, and Sir Pentious! Pentious being one of our first official residents!”

She spoke each name by pointing to which name belonged to who, Pentious’s name ringing a bell but it was new seeing his appearance. So this is the guy that forced Vox to drag you here instead..

Husk, the cat that spoke earlier simply looked at you and didn’t give another word, downing yet another bottle. Pentious waved at you with the same energy you gave as well but was more or less focused on his ‘eggs’ that were poking at the flesh around his eyes on his tail and Nifty.. well..

She was on top of you, more specifically— your head.

She was sniffing you, eying you like a fucking hawk, inspecting you as if you could be contaminated with a dying virus— your breath hitched as you hoped she wouldn’t smell the fear growing on you as your skin went cold.

“Fairly.. clean….” She then backed up slightly to inspect your eyes with her own giant one only to then scurry off across your body like a bug, causing you to get disgusting goosebumps.

“Pretty.. smells nice.. no dirt—“ she then stopped by suddenly standing in front of you with a big ol’ smile as if what she just did was incredibly normal.

“Hiya! I’m Nifty! Had to make sure you weren’t bringing any filth in the hotel.. I just cleaned this place…” She took out her little hand for you to shake.. being hesitant but not willing to be rude to someone this peculiar— you shook her hand with just two of your fingers and before you could pull away yourself she then immediately scurried off as fast as she came.

“And then last but not least—“

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure, a real pleasure to get to meet you young lady! Please, feel free to be welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor, the radio demon, dad— approached you with such enthusiasm and enticement. As if he couldn’t wait to talk to you.

Your blood ran cold, eyes widened with fear, your free hand clutched tightly at the handle of your luggage as Alastor took the other to then put it up to where his smile was, not kissing it or having your hand too near his lips but still keeping courtesy of when meeting a woman as he usually would.

Even in death, he stays a gentleman as per usual.

“My my.. you poor soul. To have to run away from your employer down to this place.. why he must be a terrible person, isn’t he?”

Ah right.. Vox and Alastor hated eachother. You knew this very well.. you honestly didn’t know much about why they hated eachother other than the running joke that Vox most definitely lost a fight with him.

You died years later after Alastor did so you don’t exactly have the full scoop. Him dying in your late teens and you dying in your mid to almost late 20s. You lived life yet— some would say not enough.

“Poor thing, not to worry! Let this be your safe house! Your haven, your asylum, your refuge!” He exclaimed each two sets of words by twirling you around in an exaggerated manner, in a style reminiscent of the way dancers would spin their dance partners in the 30s. You recognized this move all too well— feeling almost nostalgic.

Although you were slightly grateful for one thing he was doing right.. not being overly revealing or announcing the one big fact you two had between the both of you.

You didn’t need that fact to be running around the place like some kind of daily gossip.

Before your anxiety would make you burst in crying or throwing up right in his face you immediately tugged your hand away, his own keeping your wrist in his palm.

“Thank.. you—“ your hand holding the luggage let go to try to tug his hand from holding you any longer until you then finally managed to pull his grip away from off of your other wrist in order to create more space between him and you from the immense anxiety you were having, your lungs threatening not to quicken and burst like balloons. You immediately went back to hold onto your luggage once more.

“How.. welcoming..” you pretended as if you were dusting off your clothes and your arms as if trying to tidy yourself up instead it really meant to give you a few more seconds to collect your thoughts properly.

‘God.. everyone knowing I’m with Vox is only going to make this real fucking hard— I didn’t think this entirely fucking through..’ ah yes.. you totallyyy weren’t panicking about this now active interaction the past two days huh—

‘just act calm and cool _____, you need that money, you need that place, you need that show, you need protection.. stick to the plan..’

“Uh— how humble!.. of your Hotel staff to be so.. welcoming— your highness.” You spoke to Charlie, smiling brightly as if all of this was just casual conversation.

“A real treat seeing dear ol’ Angel Dust here, good to see a familiar face ain’t it Angie?” You turned slightly towards the pornstar, with him returning your comment by exclaiming with a “Damn right!”

Charlie smiled intensely with a nod, face full of joy and innocence. “I’m so sososo glad you like it here so far!! Your experience here won’t be disappointing! You’ll have an absolute blast!—

oh oh!! Can’t forget! We have to get you to your room! If you’d like you can stay there and rest or come down here and join us! Whichever you feel comfortable with.”

“Why thank you very much your highness, your hospitality sure is a darn nice breath of fresh air compared to the rest of hell. Bunch of cats and dogs fighting like wild animals out there.. need a real break once in awhile..” you spoke as you followed Charlie as she lead the way to your room, giving you a minor tour of the hotel before letting you rest in your new humble abode.

Your act, although part sincere and true, was full of holes. Holes not enough for the normal gaze to see but they are clear enough for him to see.

Alastor would eye you as you followed the princess, his fingers uncurling and curling around his staff slowly and menacingly. His sharp pupils narrowing while aligning with his grin as it expanded with a sense of mischief holding it up by its ends.

He saw right through you, of course he would, he knows when you lie, know when you’re honest, when you’re afraid and happy.

Why lie to him my dear? If you know that he knows you like the back of his hand.

Either way he knows he’s going to have to catch you alone at some point, he must catch up to what he’s missed throughout the years he’s been gone from the living world and even in hell.. although you made it clear the last time you met in hell that you don’t want to see him again he finds it curious how you’re even here at all.

Oh but.. gosh.. how much his little girl has grown.

_________________________________

You were a two months from turning 7 years old now, being adopted almost a year ago was the most prolific moment in your young life. Your grandmother, her real name being Adelaide but you preferred to call her Nana or Grandmama… Nana was better for your little voice to stretch out more easily and faster.

She was always such a darling to you, treating you as if you were one of her own. She told you true most amazing and beautiful stories, shared and sang the most wonderful lullabies and songs that sometimes Alastor would join in on, would make delicious food that you adored throughout your childhood, love you unconditionally the way a grandmother would.

And technically you were hers through papers but sometimes it felt as if it was inconsistent in certain areas.. mostly with Alastor.

Alastor was a peculiar man, as famous and passionate as he was he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold, only open to those he truly cares for like his mother and his radio show. It was as if his heart was surrounded from the sky to the depth of the ground with rusty fences and sharped barbed wire that only allowed very few people and things being let into his life.

You tried to get close to him around this time, bringing him little gifts you made and trinkets you’d find that reminded you of him as a way to get closer.

But he always just smiled at you, gave you a pat, and either said ‘good job’, ‘oh how cute, leave it at my study now won’t you?’ ‘I’m sure your Nana would love it.’ And go right back to what he was doing..

You didn’t understand why that happened— but it seems as if he didn’t bother to get close to you simply because you were a gift to his mother, a granddaughter she wanted to have but he couldn’t give unless through legal assistance,

you were for her to love— not for him to raise.

At least that was the case at this point in time.

It was weird.. you never truly has any terrible or bad interactions but— yet it made you disappointed each time, made you crave for his attention. After all— he’s supposed to be your father. Why wasn’t he paying attention?..

You were currently in your room sitting at your desk, papers scattered with different colored wax and pencils messily thrown around on the surface.

You were drawing something, a gift as a last chance to get him to notice you properly. You even had a special gift that your Nana helped you pick out for him! Surely, your dear dad would notice you now right?

Scribbling the last few finishing touches you then dropped the pen on the table as you exclaimed a little “Aha!” And raising the drawing up high, feeling proud of your masterpiece!

You quickly set the drawing down as you then hopped off your chair to a cower through a little playbox full of toys you had, only to search for one single thing. Once your tiny finally felt the touch of wood and slight metal, you grabbed it and pulled it out with yet again another delightful glee.

It was a small radio shaped wooden charm, the metal being the small little ‘hand’ that moved whenever the radio was operating and transmitting audio frequencies. The perfect gift for papa!

You then quickly grabbed the drawing off your desk, both your gifts in hand your little feet went pitter patter as you ran to the dining room where Alastor was having lunch freshly made by his mother.

Your Nana having recently left the home to get a few emergency groceries, made this a good time for just him and you to connect.

“Papa! papa!” You squealed, Alastor’s brows furrowing at several elements in his surroundings annoying him slightly..

“_____, no running in the house remember? Cant have too much noise disturbing our home.” Despite his scolding you couldn’t help but to just giggle and almost jump in excitement in what you’re planning to give him. He continued “Besides as I have mentioned many times before, call me Al—“

“But papa! Papa!— look!—“ you interrupted him, your voice projecting a bit more into a yell as to have him look at what you have.

“_____, no yelling please dear. I can hear you quite well. I’m not a mile away..”

“Yes papa— b—but!.. look..! I made you something..” you then gently set the drawing up at the table first beside his food. Alastor’s attention finally set on the paper and even stopped eating to look at it. He picked it up.. his eyes inspecting it.

It was a drawing of you and him in a sunny flower meadow in a forest both you and his mother had a picnic in recently, except it was just the both of you here.

The drawing was definitely not the most perfect but it was definitely the cutest. Your scribbles somehow managing to immediately the shape of his hair perfectly, his glasses were visible and his red suit was very on parr with what he would wear on the daily, then there was you— your hair a bit more messily drawn than his and seemed more rushed.. as if you couldn’t yet wait to finish the piece. To top it all off it even had small scribbled words in pencil that said ‘papa’ and ‘me’ and an arrow pointing at each individual figure that fit that description.

Oh how cute.

You stared up at him closely, even for a young kid as yourself you were able to notice the way his usually dark and cold eyes had a twinkle in them, a sort of softness diluting his everyday smile ever so slightly.

It took him a second before you then set the trinket on the table where he picked up the paper from “And this is also for you papa.. nana helped me pick it out for you since I said I wanted to give you a present…”

His eyes darted towards the trinket and even picked it up, inspecting the work and its shapes along with the design of it as a whole. Admiring it almost.

His eyes darted back to the drawing, both hands with both gifts.

“Darling…”

Your little heart ran faster, your hopes were rising up to the heavens. Is he gonna say he was proud?.. he loves it? Adores it?.. hates it?—

“This is cute and all, but don’t forget to draw Nana in next time! She was at that picnic with us too remember!” He exclaimed as he smiled at you in an almost bittersweet way, his softness almost being wiped off entirely.

You frowned, “but.. I made it for you papa.. I’m always with nana so.. I wanted to make something for you!” You smiled fondly at him, trying to still hope for a ‘I’m proud’ from him.

“Aww is that so dear?” He spoke as he then set the gifts on the table on the opposite side of where you were, all while hiding behind a smile.

“Well just don’t forget to add Nana in next time, thank you darling for the lovely gifts.” And just like that he began eating.

Ah.. still the same— reaction. It was a bit better.. it wasn’t just a short and quick sentence at least so that made you smile a bit but.. you expected much more.. a hug, a proud smile.

“Yes, papa…” you then slowly walked off back into your room. A bit down but you weren’t going to let that ruin your smile, Nana always told you and papa to always smile no matter what. So that’s what you’ll keep doing. Even if— your expectations were dearly hurt today.

What you didn’t see was Alastor yet again inspecting the gifts you gave him after you left, a hand tilting it a bit to see it clearly and to have the trinket closer to the figures of the both of you.

His permanent smile’s ends stretched a bit, a ‘hm’ escaping his throat as he took another sip from his black coffee.

He never truly saw himself as your father, never fully taking care of you unless his mother asked him to.

Ah but, it was nice to think that way huh?

(HAIIII THABK YOU FOR READING THISSSS I had lots of fun writing this and omfg I have so many idea for Vox and reader interactions, especially when the plot thickens. But thank you so much for the wait on chapter 1 of this story!! I know the prologue has been awhile but I reallyyyy want to continue this since this is my very first original alastor and daughter fanfic that I’ve written years ago and want to revamp into this!!)

[rhaenyratargaryns]

Hello!! A couple years ago I posted this tutorial for making gifs with a moving overlay effect. In the two and a half years since I made that tutorial, I've learned some new tricks for this gif effect but most importantly I've learned how to explain things better.

For that reason, I've created this new and improved tutorial for my overlay gif effect. The basics are the same but it's simpler, I go into more detail, give better explanations, and have more comprehensive instructions.

The easiest way to do this effect with this method is to use smart objects and work in timeline. For this tutorial, I’m assuming you know the basics of giffing like cropping, resizing, colouring, etc. If you need help with this I’d suggest you look at some other tutorials and guides!!

First, we’re going to start off with three things.

1. A completed gif converted into a smart object that is going to be the base gif. I'm going to call this "gif1". You’ll want this gif to be at least 3 seconds because it needs to last as long as the overlay plus a little bit of extra time in the beginning. This is the base gif I’ll be using in the example (except I trimmed it so that I could meet the size limit).

2. A second completed gif converted into a smart object that is going to go over the base gif. We’re going to call this "gif2". This gif should be at least 2 seconds but I’ve made it work with shorter. Gif2 needs to be the same dimensions or bigger than gif1.  This is the gif I'll be using in the example (except I trimmed it so that I could meet the size limit).

3. An overlay in video form. These can be found on tumblr and youtube by search for overlay or transition packs. For this example, I'll be using an ink drop overlay I found on youtube.

Step 1: Turning the overlay video into an overlay gif Most overlays aren’t going to instantly fit the gif effect you’re trying to achieve right away. This is the overlay I got from youtube and as you can see it’s too slow and needs a crop/resize to be usable.

To fix it, I sped the frame rate up, cropped the overlay, and resized the overlay so it fits over my base gif. I also sharpened the overlay (500% amount, 0.3px radius) so that the edges were smooth. This is the new overlay gif and the one I’ll be using for the gif effect. 

A tip: I also like to add a brightness/contrast layer to get rid of the grey on the overlay gif. Because we’re working with blending modes to achieve this effect, any parts of the overlay that are grey will be a blended mix of gif1 and gif2. If you think this will look good for your gif effect then don't worry about it!

Another tip: try to get the entire overlay movement to fit into a 2-3 second window. Anything longer than that will likely be cut off when you have to trim your gif to meet the upload size limit and it would suck to only have half of the overlay.

Step 2: Creating the gif effect Drag a copy of gif2 and a copy of the overlay gif onto the gif1 canvas. I like to use Ctrl+Shift+V so that the layers are pasted in the same position as they were on the previous canvas. MAKE SURE that both overlay layers are in the same position on the canvas. If one of the overlay layers is higher/lower/etc. than the other then the effect won't work properly.

Then, make a second copy of the overlay and invert it (Ctrl+i). These are the layers you should have:

Before you go any further, trim gif2 and both overlay layers so they are all the same length.

Now, we need to rearrange the layers and set blending modes. The top layer should be whichever overlay goes from black to white. This is because when we change the blending modes, the white part of this layer will disappear and look like its being replaced by gif2. In this case, that is the overlay (inverted) layer. Then we want gif2, the other overlay layer, and then gif1.

A tip: this process can be done the other way where the top layer is the overlay that goes from white > black however, you are much more likely to have an error where there is a grey/black line around the overlay effect in your final gif. In order to avoid that, I always use the black > white layer on top.

Next, set the top overlay layer to darken. You should only see the black part from the overlay and gif2 should fill in the white part. Here’s how that looks in my example. 

Next, select the top overlay layer and gif2 and convert both layers into one smart object. Your layers tab should look like this now. 

Now, set the new layer’s blending mode to lighten and the overlay layer’s blending mode to darken. Once you do this, you should be able to see gif1 as well as the overlay gif. 

Step 3: Timeline and exporting At the moment, gif1 is still significantly longer than the overlay gifs. Since this gif is just over 10 mb (which is pretty small for this effect) I’m going to trim about 1/4 of a second off the end of gif1 and then drag the overlay layers so they all end at the same time. 

Now you’re free to export the gif! This is the finished effect for the example gif! 

A tip: sometimes, when I convert to from timeline to frames, the gif becomes a little longer and slower. It has to do with different frame rates across the videos and photoshop but I'm not smart enough to understand it. If that happens, just set all the frames with the overlay layers to 0.04 speed instead of 0.05.

And we're finished! I hope that was helpful and made sense. If you have any questions feel free to drop them in my inbox or send me a message!! <3

[saintgoo]

Three ways to say "I love you" ☆

PAIRING: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

WARNINGS: None

A/N: it's literally so cold so all I can do is go under the blankets and write stuff😫 enjoy!!!

Summary: The three times JJ showed how much he loved you without needing to say it.

wc: 1.5k ★ ... masterlist ★ ... taglist

ONE:

The waves were choppy, the sea sounded like thunder bathed in the lunar light. The pogues had just returned from a party at a nearby beach, too drunk to go home alone, they all decided to sleep at John B's chateau.

Sarah and John B were playing tag when they arrived, going to the beachfront even though it was night. "What are they doing?" Pope questioned, leaving his backpack next to the residence stairs. Kiara shrugged and looked at them. “Too drunk and too in love by the way it looks.”

You left your bag next to Pope's, sitting on the stairs to take off your shoes that had been bothering you since the party. You looked around to locate your boyfriend, only to be met with nothing. “Yo, where’s JJ?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Over there, by the water's edge," Pope replied, nodding toward the shore. "He said somethin’ about skipping rocks in the moonlight."

“Oh god, he's going to end up hurting himself in the way he is” You laughed “I'll make sure he doesn't fall or anything.”

You strode down to the water's edge, feet sinking into the cool wet sand as the waves lapped at your ankles. Up ahead, JJ's silhouette swayed in the pale glow of the moon as he lifted rocks from the shoreline.

"Hey, any luck skipping those?" you called out.

"The stone glides smoothly acroszz the sssurface," JJ slurred, flinging another pebble haphazardly into the surf. "Not a sssingle bounce to be found."

"Maybe ease up on the liquor there, dude" you chuckled. "At this rate the only thing getting skipped is you if you keep pitching rocks into the tide."

JJ squinted at you through blue eyes, a crooked grin emerging. "You tryin' to steal my thunder, [Name]? Think you c'n do better?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, not wanting to provoke the drunk boy. “Oh no, honey. I'll never be better than you... don't you think it's better to go back to the chateau and do this tomorrow? It’s too late.”

“But it's still early!" JJ exclaimed dramatically, a pout on his lips like a child. You walked close to him, taking the rock from his hand and wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s already 2 am, let’s go in, bae.”

You dropped the stone on the ground and grabbed his hand, trying to take him to the chateau, but he had another idea as he gently pulled you by the hand and collided you with him, grabbing you by the hips and throwing you onto his shoulders.

“JJ, put me down now!” You cried between laughs, feeling your clothes being soaked as they were impacted by the waves.

“Oh darling, don't be like that, the sea is callin’ uss…” he smiled, throwing you into the water without warning, holding your waist as he drowned in laughter.

You emerged from the water, your hair wet and your makeup smudged. You tried to look angry, but quickly failed to let your smile appear, pointing your finger at him accusingly. “You're so dead, Maybank!”

“You wouldn't lay a finger on me, doll” he said, suddenly sounding sober. He pulled you by the waist your bodies collided.

Your clothes clung heavily to your skin as JJ pulled you against his frame, the crashing waves swirling about your tummy.

"And just what do you think you're doing, Maybank?" you narrowed your eyes, though his proximity made your breath quicken.

JJ fixed you with a piercing blue stare, fingers tracing idle patterns along your waist. "Dunno, just feel like dancin' under the moonlight with my girl."

You sucked in a breath as his touch sent sparks through your dampened limbs. "Oh? And since when have I been 'your girl'?"

A low chuckle rumbled in JJ's chest. "Since the moment I laid eyes on you, darlin." His head dipped lower, hot breath ghosting your lips.

Heart pounding, you tangled your hands in his sodden shirt, desire and irritation warring within. "You insufferable ass, I fucking hate you."

Your words hovered between you, anticipation crackling in the narrow space that remained. Then, slowly, mercilessly, JJ's smiling mouth met your own in a searing kiss that made the bay's icy waters feel balmy by comparison.

When you broke apart, you were quick to hide your face in his neck. “I look like a mess…” your voice muffled by JJ’s wet clothes.

He removed your face from his neck, lifting your gaze as he placed his finger on your chin. “The prettiest mess.”

TWO:

Warmth enveloped you as consciousness slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. Blinking blearily, memories of the previous night came rushing back.

A smile crept onto your lips as you burrowed deeper into firm muscle and cotton sheets. JJ's steady breathing stirred your damp hair, his arms secure about your bare waist. You turned gently in his hold to glimpse his face, relaxed in slumber. He looked years younger sans smirk or swagger, boyish features softened in repose.

Trailing light fingers across his stubbled jaw, you pondered how you had arrived at this moment. JJ had always stirred something primal within - thrilling yet terrifying in equal measure. But beneath his rough exterior beat a heart of gold, a loyalty you couldn't help but crave.

As the morning sun crested over the horizon, JJ began to stir. Those fathomless blue eyes blinked open, drowsy and confused at first, then lighting with joy upon meeting your gaze.

"Mornin', beautiful," he rasped, sleep rough voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you smiled shyly, still half expecting this moment of intimacy to dissipate like a dream upon waking.

But JJ only held you closer, nuzzling his nose against your neck until you dissolved into giggles. "Sleep well?"

"Best I've had in ages," you admitted softly. Fingers trailing down his chest, you traced swirling patterns over tan skin and ropey muscle.

JJ shuddered almost imperceptibly at your touch, large hands tracing your own curves with featherlight reverence. "Last night...this morning...everything just feels right with you, like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be."

Your heart swelled almost painfully at the rare display of vulnerability in those crystalline eyes. "Oh JJ..."

Cupping your jaw, he locked your gazes with an intensity that stole your breath. "You're my everything, [Name].”

You hugged him that morning, feeling all the emotions flow through your body electrically. The rest, as they say, is history.

THREE:

You kicked off your shoes aggressively enough to leave a mark on your heel. Fresh tears spilled from your eyes and soaked your entire face.

You let small sobs escape as you made your way to your bed, letting your body slump and your face sink into the pillow pathetically.

You needed that job. All your sleepless nights working in that restaurant for nothing, the senseless scolding you heard from your boss for nothing. Your father was going to kill you when he found out that you had wiped out your only source of money, and you were slowly falling into despair knowing that that night he would come home and you would have to tell him the news.

Exhausted, you let the tears come out unhindered. At some point, your door opened revealing JJ, who already knew you had been fired when you told him via text. He had a bag of sweets in his hands, and when he saw your condition, he dropped it on the floor and walked towards you, climbing on top of you and placing his face in the crook of your neck.

JJ's body curled protectively around yours as you wept, soaking the collar of his shirt with tears. He gripped you tightly, as if willing his strength to seep into your bones through sheer force of will.

"Shhh, I've got you darlin', just let it out," he whispered into your hair. His hands traced soothing circles over your quaking form, lingering in all the places he knew could ease tension from your aching muscles.

Slowly, your sobs began to peter out, exhaustion leeching the will to despair from your pores. But where the anguish had seeped away, JJ's steady presence flooded in to fill the void - his sturdy warmth, the callouses of his palms, familiar scent of sea and motor oil wrapped around your senses like a security blanket.

As your breathing calmed, JJ leaned back just enough to cup your swollen face between his hands and press kisses to each damp eyelid. "Look at me, sweetheart. We're gonna fix this, you hear? Fuck that bastard boss of yours. I'm here with you, okay? Always."

His blue eyes shone with defiance, determination to lift you where you could not yourself. And in that gaze you found solace, an anchor when the world felt tipped. Clinging to his shirt, you nodded tiredly. He wiped away your remaining tears, smiling and kissing your forehead gently, hugging you in that moment.

Send me a request! ☆

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | one

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

Pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  Rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  Summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. Warnings/Tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], slow burn [ish], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset [boys are problems], mentions of family drama/turmoil, passing mention of death [elderly neighbor], brief non-violent use of a pocket knife, mention of stabbing [as self-defense], furniture building, reader described as female, hair long enough to tie up, no other physical descriptions, eventual smut, protective!joel, soft!joel, no use of y/n. Word Count: 4.6k Series Masterlist | part two a/n: this is my first time writing with this sort of format so pls be gentle. i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. i have no outline for this. but i’ve got a whim and a direction and i’m going with it. **please read the warnings/tags for every part as they will be updated**

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You’d done it. Finally. No one ever thought you would, including you. And yet, here you were, lugging your sparse personal belongings out of the back of a U-Haul truck and in through the front door of your new home. And for once in your adult life, it wasn’t in some impersonal apartment building or complex. It was a house. In a town that was actually affordable, though it was further from home than you might’ve preferred. A town that was away from family, which had been the impetus, but also away from friends, which hadn’t been. 

There was a perk to this being the first house you’d ever moved into. Being confined to seven hundred square feet had meant there was only so much room to fill. And it had all been cozy. But now there was a bit more space to work with. Not to say this house was large by any stretch of the imagination – it was on the smaller side of all the houses in the neighborhood – but you had rooms now. And as you loaded in different boxes and suitcases full of clothes and books, you realized how much of the space was going to be left empty. With the exception of a mattress, bed frame, dresser, a couple chairs, and bookcases, you left every other large piece of furniture behind. Couches, dining table, kitchen chairs, media console, TV… you planned on buying all of that in town. You only wanted to bring what you felt you could move yourself. 

It was the season of life you were in. Young enough for people to say you had time before focusing on creating a family for yourself, but not young enough to avoid their awkward and worried glances when you told them you were only focused on your career. It was odd; never something that settled right. With each birthday, every time a candle was added, the world around you seemed less secure with your aloneness. As if you, a single female, were something of a threat to the rest of the world. Your solitude, an act of rebellion. God forbid you didn’t have a man to look after you. In your experience, boys didn’t do too good a job at much. Were they useful? Absolutely. You’d much rather delegate tasks to a boy than have to do them yourself. Mow the lawn, fix a creaky door, seal a drafty window, get you off… sure, there were any number of things a boy could do, but not only were they not necessary, you generally found you were better at any job than they were. That had been instilled in you long before you began dating. 

How many times had it been proven that dad could not be held accountable for his entire emotional spectrum? And instead you, a mere child, were to be responsible for it. Though it wasn’t always bad – somewhere deep down you knew your parents had done the absolute best they knew how to do with the tools they had – but the emotion dad was never short on was anger. Thus, it was the emotion he was most comfortable expressing. And yes, you apparently were the catalyst for all of his loud expressions of anger and rage. Everything was always conditional. I’m sorry but you did this… 

I love you but…

By the time dating had entered your life (which only happened post-college), let’s just say no therapist was surprised by the pattern of boys you chose to have in your life. All of them modeled the thing you were familiar with, which only served to imbed the quality you hated most about yourself. There was a tendency to accept any treatment a boy was willing to give you, without expressing needs or desires or even if there was a problem. Boundaries? Never heard of her. As far as boys were concerned, they seemed to have carte blanche over you. Your own resentment and anger would grow by the lack of your needs (which had never been verbally expressed) being met, until you’d had enough and cut them off. Every new relationship felt like a complete betrayal of yourself.

The highly independent and ‘don’t need a man’ personality quirk had strung a ribbon of apathy around your life. You liked to think of it that way. Like a Christmas bow around a present. Realizing you didn’t care about forming intimate relationships with men seemed a little less painful when given the image of a box neatly wrapped beneath a tree donning tinsel and colorful lights. It was at that point, while pondering your ribbon of apathy and clumsily shoving your mattress up the front porch steps, that a voice interrupted your progress.

“Lemme help ya’ with that, ma’am,”

The voice had arms. And those arms were simultaneously reaching for the same end of the mattress you already had hands on. Instinctively, you tugged your bed out of reach, “I got it.” But hands kept coming. They were insistent. Of course they were a man’s hands. A woman would’ve listened the first time. So with an extra strong tug and a tone that spat fire, you turned toward the owner of the hands and stood your ground, “I said, I got it!”

Dark brown eyes that almost looked black had the sun not been playing in their favor. They were soft. Gentle. Despite the fact that he’d just gotten yelled at. And those soft dark brown eyes… well they looked dumbfounded. Whether it was because of the volume of the statement or the fact that people generally didn’t turn down friendly help here in the South, he lifted his hands off the mattress and held them up innocently. 

The force with which your action had been committed meant that the moment he released  the bed, you went stumbling over, the entire thing thudding down on the porch. You shot him another icy glare as he slowly backed off the steps, though he remained in place and watched you crouch down to lift your mattress once again; the pad now harboring dirty stains.

“Can I help you with something in the truck?” He offered again. Unwanted persistence was a uniquely male quality.

“I don’t need your help, thanks. I got it,”

He watched for just a second longer at the image of you fumbling with the heavy mattress, barely able to keep it upright. Then he turned on his heels and went back from whence he came. Which you came to realize, when you looked over your shoulder to ensure he’d actually gone, was across the street and a few houses down. Fuck. Back in California, not too many people were neighborly but it wasn’t a point you were hoping to make. Especially not on the first day. There was a quaintness to the idea of a neighborhood full of people who liked and looked out for one another. You’d just hoped that would’ve come in the form of some old, opinionated woman sipping tea in a rocking chair on her front porch. The kind that maybe the kids were afraid of, but she was awesome. That’s when it came to mind that maybe that was the void in the neighborhood you were filling. You were to be the crotchety old woman, yelling at “those darn kids”. Fabulous.

Unfortunately (for no other reason than your own ego) you only got the mattress in through the threshold of the front door before it fell to the side and flopped back down to the floor. With a sigh and a thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad if it just lived there, you stepped over it and padded into the kitchen. Managed to place the boxes designated to the room in it, but had yet to unpack anything. You turned on the tap and tilted your head to the side, leaning in to take a sip of water directly from it. Only to find that upon turning off the tap and looking out the bay window by the sink, the man that had offered to help was visible from his yard. He wheeled out his trash and recycling bins to the curb. Resting his hands on his hips, he glanced around and took stock of the neighborhood. All seemed quiet and to his liking.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Joel liked routine. Habit-forming had become a sort of habit. It meant he knew what his days looked like. It meant he was prepared. And after having been handed a life where being ill-prepared meant something was going wrong, there was great comfort in knowing how things were going to go day by day. Though he wasn’t rigid. He could include new things in his routine. For instance…

One morning he woke up, made his usual pot of coffee before work, and stood out on his porch. It’d be one of his only moments to slow down and actually notice the day. That’s when he noticed something new in his routine. A “For Sale” sign went up on Mrs. Wilson’s front lawn. Everyone in the neighborhood had been expecting it because, well, Mrs. Wilson had passed away. In her sleep one night. Joel thought that must’ve been the nicest way to go. And every morning, he’d go out on his porch and ponder Mrs. Wilson before carrying on with the rest of his routine. As such, he saw when it sold and went into escrow. He saw Mrs. Wilson’s son move out all of his mother’s old furniture until the place was left empty. Everything was routine. 

That is, until the U-Haul showed up this morning. It was a small one and he remembered thinking there was no way that little truck contained enough furniture to fill up that house. But he brushed it off, continued with his routine, and went off to work. Though he had to admit, he was wholly curious about the new neighbor he was about to inherit.

He left his jobsite early afternoon, his truck ambling back to his house when another neighbor waved him down to stop him.

“Hey, Mr. Cole,” Joel smiled at the elderly man. Mr. Cole had been the first one to greet Joel when he’d first moved into town. Mr. Cole knew everything going on in the neighborhood, courtesy of Mrs. Cole.

“You see that gal move into Mrs. Wilson’s house?”

Joel nodded, “saw that woman move in, yeah.”

“Mighty pretty,”

Joel chuckled, “surely not as pretty as Mrs. Cole,”

“I don’t know,”

Joel laughed a little harder. “I’ll see ya’ around. Stop snoopin’.”

He’d only just arrived back home and parked his truck in the driveway when he saw you struggling with the mattress. And his mama raised him better than that so he went to offer his help. There hadn’t been a fiber in his being that thought you’d snap back like you had. That’s why he tried a second time. And when the second snap was stronger than the first, he raised his hands and backed off.

Shit. Out-of-towners were getting meaner and meaner.

He meandered to his house and only looked back once, just in time to see the mattress fall to the floor just inside the front door. He smiled to himself and continued on with his routine as much as possible. Tomorrow was trash day which meant the bins needed to be brought out.  Simple enough task, just the way he liked it. He liked it even more when he spotted a glimpse of you looking at him through your kitchen window. 

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You forwent unpacking anything that day. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing you pulled out would truly have a place to live until you got the furniture situation handled. And seeing as though your bed was still in the entryway, you figured there were bigger problems to handle. But just by looking at the hallway, and the thin doorways, you knew you were going to have a hell of a time bending and twisting the mattress to your will… and the architecture. Grocery shopping proved to be more time-sensitive, and once the fridge was as fully stocked as your bank account would allow, it already started to feel more like home. Which also meant, the way you’d snapped at your neighbor started to bother you more. You had to live in this person’s realm – whatever that looked like. He was your neighbor, and short of literally becoming the crotchety old woman that never left her home, there wasn’t a way for you to avoid him altogether. He seemed to have a lot of friends on the block. That’s also when you decided to suck up to your pride. To apologize to this man who really didn’t deserve an apology at all. Whatever it took to just live in peace.

The more you thought about it, the more it angered you. That was pretty par for the course. It would’ve been more odd if a man wasn’t pissing you off. It was still running through your mind as you plucked a six-pack from your fridge and crossed the street in the direction of his house. You thought about how you were going to have to plaster a phony smile on your face and make niceties to this person who you didn’t want to get to know. You just wanted to live. And you thought you’d have more time. As you ascended his porch steps, you made for the front door, zeroed in on it.

“Hey,” 

The voice startled you, tripping over your own feet and stumbling, very nearly losing the six-pack of bottles to the wooden porch. You glanced over at him, and in the dim light his porch light gave off, watched him take an acoustic guitar out of his lap and set it beside his chair.

“Hi,” you mumbled and walked in his direction. “I’m your new neighbor,”

“I know. You yelled at me,”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t yell at you. I was just letting you know–”

“S’for me?”

You looked back down at him and noticed how he pointed at the six-pack of beer. “We got off on the wrong foot and I just want to live in peace and quiet so,” gesturing to the beer, “peace offering.” You handed the pack to him.

Joel cradled the cardboard sleeve in his lap and pulled out a bottle. “Want one?”

“No, thanks. I just came to drop them off,”

He flicked his eyes up and pulled out a second bottle. Then, setting the remaining bottles on the floor beside him, he twisted the first cap off. “S’not nice to yell at someone and then refuse their offer to share a drink,”

“I didn’t yell at you,”

“Sit down.”

And for whatever reason, you listened. In the past, had any man spoken to you like that, especially one you didn’t know from Adam, you’d’ve smacked him. But not this time. This time you sat in the chair perched next to his and awkwardly took the open beer from his hand when he passed it over to you.

The silence that ensued was tense and palpable. Neither willing to bend first. Joel kept his eyes focused on his beer bottle and you kept your focus on… him. Naturally suspicious and wary, you thought if you kept your gaze on him, you’d catch him before he did anything out of hand. But really all you noticed was the way his nose had a slight downward curve to it. And the way the graying hair at the back of his head curled along his neck. And the way his beard, also graying, came in in patches, but in the most endearing way. Wrinkles and worry lines had etched their way deep in his forehead. Crow’s feet found a home in the corners of his eyes. Both told you this was a man who had felt and lived a lot of life: the good and the bad. You thought you saw a small scar on his cheek just below his eye, but you couldn’t be sure. The man was middle-aged. His skin and hands gave the appearance he was a blue-collar, working man who’d spent his life in the beating sun.

“Get everything moved in?” He took a sip and eyed you, aware that you were nodding, but still the glance he gave you made you think he knew you were lying. Obviously you were.

“My bed is still by the front door,” you relented.

“Not where I’d recommend a bedroom be, but to each their own,”

“I can’t get it down the hallway by myself.” You tried to ignore that he seemed to light up at the admission. You? Needing his help? “It’s too narrow,”

“Want help?”

You looked at him almost incredulously. Had you treated California neighbors the way you treated them, you'd have been lucky if you didn’t find your car keyed the next day. But he was offering his help? Again?

“You’d help me after the way I yelled at you?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “You didn’t yell at me,” another smile flashed over his face and he looked over at you again.

You hated that it made you smile, too. Yet you waved him off. “That’s alright. I’ll figure out a way,”

Joel chuckled and shook his head, taking a pause before he downed another long sip of his beer.

“What?” You urged. 

“S’nothin’,'' he shook his head again with another grin. “Know you probably could figure out a way, but… s’just that you don’t need to. Why won’t you let me help you?”

You sucked in a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy…” you trailed off realizing you didn’t know his name more than referring to him to yourself as that nosy neighbor guy.

He seemed to pick up on it and pointed to himself, “Joel. Miller,”

“But I don’t need a guy to get on with life, y’know? I’m a self-sufficient woman. I don’t need to rely on anyone but myself.”

Joel finished off his beer and stood up from his chair, “acceptin’ help when it’s offered isn’t relying on anyone else. It just makes life easier.” He started down the steps and crossed over his lawn.

“Where’re you going?!”

“To move your bed!”

Leaping up from your chair, you ran after him, in quick pursuit as he neared your home. You knew it was a wreck inside. Trash and boxes everywhere. Not ready for any visitors, even ones you didn’t want there in the first place. 

“Really! It’s alright.” When that didn’t stop him from advancing toward your house, you tried another path, “the bed frame’s not even put together!”

“Then I’ll put it together,” he said over his shoulder, nearly in your front yard now. 

You managed to lunge forward and grab onto his jacket sleeve, effectively stopping his advance. At least for the time being. “I don’t usually let men I don’t know into my home,”

“What?”

“You know… in case they’re crazy and kill me.”

Joel furrowed his eyebrows, utterly perplexed. He tried to make heads or tails of you as a whole and was having a hell of a time trying to do so. But he shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and produced from it, a pocket knife. He unfolded it, which gave you some pause, but then he quickly held it out for you to take. You did, and as soon as the small weapon left his hand, he turned and continued toward your porch.

“Hey! What am I supposed to do with this?!”

“Stab me,”

“What?!”

He ascended the porch steps and waited at your front door, where you soon joined him. “If I do something weird, and you think I’m gonna kill you in your own house, you can stab me. Full permission,”

You looked down at the knife, and then back up at Joel. 

“Can you open your door?”

Gulping down nerves, “it’s unlocked.”

“Still,” Joel pressed a smile, “I’m not in the habit of letting myself into women’s homes. I’d prefer if you opened it and let me in.”

For the second time today, you found yourself doing something all because a man told you to do so and you wondered if the move was making you soft. Regardless, you reached past Joel, pressed down on the lever, and nudged the door open. It stopped short from opening all the way as it hit the edge of your mattress. Joel flicked his eyes at you, as if silently saying see, you need me.

He shimmied his way in, with you close behind, half-heartedly pointing the pocket knife in his direction. He bent over and picked the mattress up off the floor, seemingly with ease. Though you did hear his knees click when he crouched down, but due to his age, you thought better than to bring it to attention. Hell, even your knees creaked every now and again.

“I’ll go backwards and steer it. Think you can be the muscle?” He waited until you nodded and set the knife down, and gathered your hair in a messy bun on top of your head to keep it out of the way. Poised at the other end of the mattress, he lined it up for its plight down the hallway. “Alright, nice and easy,” he began to pull, feeling more frictionless movement as you began helping on the other end. It wasn’t too hard; more awkward than anything. But he guessed the mattress weighed as much as, if not more than, you, so by yourself it must’ve been like dragging dead weight around. “Easy, easy,” he murmured, tilting the mattress to the side to accommodate for the doorjamb, “that’s it. Take it slow,” he elongated the end of the word, completely focused on the side of the mattress as it brushed along the door. “We’re in,”

You helped him lean the mattress out of the way and against the wall. “Thanks for your help, Joel,” you backed up toward the door, hoping he’d follow you.

But he ignored you completely, and instead found the parts to your metal bed frame laying on the floor. He lowered himself to his knees and inspected it. “You got a Phillips head?”

“Joel…”

“S’gonna take me ten minutes. The longer you stall, the longer I’m gonna be here.”

He had a point. And a very good one at that. So you turned and all but ran down the hall, searching for the box you’d so astutely labeled as “tools”. A fear set in that the longer you were away, the more time Joel had to go through your belongings (albeit sparse). You didn’t want him getting too comfortable in your home, least of all in your bedroom. So you rushed, tore open the “tools” box, dug through it until you found the screwdriver, and then raced back down the hall as if you’d have time to catch him snooping. But as soon as you arrived back in your bedroom doorway, you didn’t find him snooping. You found him still on his knees, crawling around, laying the different parts out to make the square your bed would soon sit on. 

Joel smiled when he noticed you returned, and held his hand up to take the screwdriver from you. Only when he grabbed it, his face turned to horror and he grimaced at the pink floral design on the handle. “What’s this?”

“A screwdriver,”

“It’s got flowers on it,” he protested.

“It’s cute!”

He chuckled and started putting the bed frame together. “Y’know they charged you thirty percent more because they slapped flowers on it and marketed it toward women,”

You sat on the floor beside him and watched him work. “Well if I have to be the man in my life, my tools are gonna be a little more feminine,”

Joel glanced at you momentarily. Just long enough to question your statement, but not long enough for you to really notice he’d stopped working at all. “What about the actual man in your life?”

“Don’t have one. Don’t need one. I’ve got my floral tool set to prove it,”

A hum was the only acknowledgement Joel gave to that. As if that answered all his questions.

“What?”

“You talk a lot about how you don’t need anyone. I’m gatherin’ you actually only mean you don’t need a man. Which is fine and all, but s’just that that seems kinda lonely.” He set the screwdriver down and held the next two pieces together. “You remind me of me ten years ago. Stubborn. Determined to be alone.” He moved on to the next piece, “thing is… if you don’t need anyone, it also kind of implies that you’re not needed by anyone. And what good is life if you can’t give yourself to someone in that way?”

Jaw-dropped, you gathered yourself, eyes widening. “Wow, your wife must love having you as a husband,”

He smiled and chuckled, “I don’t have a wife.”

“So what do you know about giving yourself to someone and being needed?”

Joel flashed his eyes to you. Gentle and filled with love, “I have a daughter. Sarah. She’s in college now. She’s quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened in my life,”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a father,”

“‘Cause I look so young?” He grinned and tightened one final screw. With the frame now positioned where it needed to be, he stood up and went back to your mattress. You scooted out of the way as he single-handedly maneuvered it onto the frame and adjusted it until it was just perfect. “Check it off the to-do list. Now you can get a good night’s sleep,”

You admired his work and it wasn’t lost on you that it only took him a third of the time it would’ve taken you. Before you’d even gotten through that realization, Joel had already passed you and had made his way back out to the hall, where he walked down it back toward your front door. You followed after him, remaining quiet as he picked up his pocket knife from where you’d left it and tucked it back into his pant pocket. His hand got to the doorknob and you still hadn’t spoken, so he was the one to bite the bullet.

“You know, I never got your name.”

Heat crept up your neck, trying to make a home in your cheeks, as you mentioned your name to him. He smiled and nodded but offered nothing more, so you figured it was still your turn. “Thanks for your help, Joel,”

“No problem,” he waved you off.

“Maybe if more guys were like you, I wouldn’t hate them so much,”

“Give it time. You’ll be back to yellin’ at me soon.” He opened the front door and took a step through it. “Give me a holler if you need something, you know where I live,”

“Will do,”

He started to close the door but then opened it again and poked his head through. “Make sure you lock the door this time,”

You pressed a smile and approached the door where he waited until your hand was on the knob. With one last quiet goodbye, he pulled the door shut and you followed it up by locking it. Then with little time to spare, you ran to the window in the living room to watch him walk away. He pressed his hands into his pockets and looked around. Then a smile stretched over his face and he kicked at the grass before he crossed the street and moseyed back to his house.

[steddieas-shegoes]

forgiving is easy

for @steddielovemonth prompt “love is an endless act of forgiveness’

A HUGE thank you to @sidekick-hero for putting this event together! This was so much fun and it kept me writing even when I wasn’t sure I’d be able to ♥️

rated t | 617 words | tags: established relationship, doubts about relationship, they’re so soft, so in love, fluff

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Eddie looked down at the broken picture frame. El made it for Steve as a birthday gift last year and it held a picture of all of them at the kids’ graduation. Steve cherished it more than just about any other possession he had.

And Eddie broke it because he was rushing to try to clean up when Steve called to tell him he was on his way home early.

He’d agreed to clean up the living room and kitchen since they were hosting Will and his new boyfriend this weekend, and he’d just…forgotten.

And now the picture frame was broken.

Steve would hate him. He’d break up with him and scream at him about how he’s so forgetful and this never would’ve happened if he just took his time.

The front door clicked open and Steve’s voice rang out.

“Hey Eds!” The door closed and the jingle of keys being hung on the hook filled the entire lower level of the home. “Where are you?”

“In here,” Eddie’s voice wasn’t loud, but he knew Steve would hear him.

Footsteps came from the hall to the living room and then stopped right behind Eddie.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I-“ Eddie turned around and held the four biggest pieces of the frame in his hand. “I broke it.”

Steve’s eyes widened and then closed for a second. He stepped closer to Eddie and took the pieces from his hands.

He pulled Eddie’s hands forward, kissed his knuckles, and set them against his chest.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “I broke your favorite picture frame.”

“I see that, honey. Did anything hurt you? Glass or any of the ceramic?”

Eddie was dumbfounded. Didn’t Steve want to yell at him?

“No. But aren’t you mad?”

“I mean I’m upset it’s broken, but the picture can just go in another frame until El can make another one,” Steve shrugged, giving him a soft smile.

“But it’s important to you.”

“It is. And it makes me a little sad that it can’t be fixed. But it was an accident, right?”

“Of course it was.”

Steve leaned in to kiss his lips. “Then it’ll be okay.”

“How are you so calm?” Eddie asked, almost mad that Steve seemed so fine with this after spending the last ten minutes thinking Steve would lose his shit.

“Because it’s just a picture frame. It’s special, sure, but it’s not the end of the world. I remember that having a lot more destruction,” Steve smirked.

“But it’s broken because of me. I was rushing to clean up and wasn’t careful.”

“And you’re clearly more upset about it than I am. You didn’t mean to break it. It’s alright.”

“You aren’t gonna break up with me?”

Steve blinked at him, confused. “What?”

“You aren’t gonna yell?”

Steve’s face fell, suddenly understanding what was going on. He cupped Eddie’s face in his hands and smiled.

“Eds, I love you. I forgive you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It was an accident. I’m not gonna be mad at you over an accident.”

Eddie’s body relaxed for the first time since he saw the frame fall to the floor. He rested his forehead against Steve’s and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.

“I love you, too. Sorry I panicked like that.”

“It’s okay. But you know I love you so much it’s disgusting, right? One broken picture frame isn’t gonna send me packing,” Steve’s thumb rubbed along Eddie’s cheek. “I’m in it for the long haul with you. We bought this house together, we’re gonna get married someday, have kids. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long, long time, Munson.”

“Promise?” Eddie’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Promise.”

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello! For your consideration, I was thinking of a Tech hurt/ comfort fic. The reader is hurt after a mission and Tech helps aid them. Maybe the injury isn’t close to being lethal, but it’s not good either. Ooo, I was about to say they’re in a relationship, but what if they are close but haven’t realized how much they deeply care until now.

By Your Side

Tech x Reader

Summary- During an escape from the Empire, you break your arm. Tech is quick to be at your side, fixing you up. At the intensity of the situation, feelings are revealed. DESCRIPTIONS OF BROKEN BONES!

A/N- Hi, honey! Thanks for requesting! I LOVE this prompt! Such a cute idea. <3 <3

Word Count- 1,549

SNAP

A gasp left your mouth, just before a scream. It took a couple seconds for your brain to register what had happened. You simply stared at your left arm, white peaking out on your forearm.

Another wail erupted, pain shooting up your arm. You left it in your shoulder as well.

The previous events finally caught up to you.

You were trying to redirect power in a crashed Imperial vessel. Cid had sent you all to get any valuables on the ship.

Luckily for you all, the ship was mostly abandoned. Plus, there was expensive equipment left on board that could be sold back to the Empire through a third party.

Hunter, Omega, and Wrecker had been headed back to The Marauder to haul parts of the medical technology back to Ord Mantell.

Things were moving smoothly until a fleet arrived. Apparently the Empire had also sent their own men to retrieve the equipment. Clones raided the ship, you and Tech struggled to stay unseen.

"Keep down." He instructed, you followed his order.

"Hunter, meet at the pickup zone. We are currently escaping through an air duct." Tech whispered through his Comms.

The position you were in had you flushed, crawling on your hands and knees was uncomfortable. Tech right behind you doing the same made you a little self conscious.

It wasn't a secret to Omega and Hunter that you liked Tech. Hunter picked up on your heart rate increase around Tech, and the way you grew nervous over simple activities with him. His heightened senses gave you away. Omega, on the other hand, had a knack for picking up your subtle blush when he talked on and on about something you didn't understand.

She teased you about it sometimes, and Hunter paid little mind. Wrecker was clueless, as usual.

"Are you okay? You're breathing heavily." Tech spoke quietly to you, concerned.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Its just- its a tight space..." You responded, Tech hummed to let you know he heard you. Though, you doubt he believed your petty excuse.

The duct came to an end, a barred frame was the only thing blocking your escape.

You pushed at it, and when it didn't budge- you shuffled around and tried to kick.

"Not even a dent."

"I'll have to blast it, move behind me." He answered.

You leaned back, trying to contort yourself was a struggle in the small vent. There was no way to change positions without crossing over him.

"Sorry..." You mumbled out, flustered as your chest was soon snugly pressed into his.

He stopped moving for a moment, you both rested an inch from each other. "There is no reason to be. This was my plan."

You stuttered, "This?"

He let out a single breathy laugh. "Ah, no. Escaping through the air duct. Our predicament is only a consequence of that decision. Therefore, this is my fault. Not yours."

You gave a shy nod. As much as you would have loved to spend more time in your position, wasting time was not a luxury you had.

The two of you continued to switch spots, you were now behind him.

"After I blast it, the Imperial troops will be alerted of our location. We will need to be swift. Just follow me, I've been tracking our coordinates." He glanced over his shoulder when he spoke.

"After blast, run like crazy?"

"Sure. I guess you could put it that way." You smiled at his words.

You crouched down behind him as he pulled his blaster trigger.

It wasn't very loud, but enough for some kind of siren to go off.

Tech quickly crawled out, then waited for you to do the same. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up to him.

At that, the two of you took off. A few shots rang out, but nothing close enough to get you.

You were able to see The Marauder hovering above, peaking out of the tree leaves.

Maybe your mind was still hazy from the vent, or maybe you got cocky from seeing the ship.

Either way, when a blast was shot close to your feet it distracted you long enough to trip and fall...

"Tech!" You managed to gasp out, besides your screams. You didn't have to though, as he was at your side before you could yell a second time.

He didn't say a word, he was too focused on you. For once, he had nothing to say. His veins were struck with your screams. He'd never been so frightened in his life.

You found yourself propped against a tree, unable to walk. It seemed like you also did something to your leg. Tech was more concerned with your arm, though.

He held it gently, working steadily. It was incredibly painful, but you trusted him to know what he was doing.

Before you knew it, he had lifted you up with a strength you forgot he had.

In your pain stricken state, you did nothing but cling to the man holding you. He started to bring you to The Marauder as fast as he could.

You passed out before you made it, slumping into Techs arms.

Hours later you awoke, a dull throbbing in your leg and left arm. It hurt incredibly to move either, you sucked in with a hiss at the pain.

At the noise, Tech appeared at your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, eyes on his datapad.

"Not too good... My arm it-" You looked down at it, wrapped perfectly and tight in a white gauze.

"Yes, you managed to break where your ulna crosses your radius. I performed a minor surgery on it, with the proper care you will make a full recovery." He said, head still down.

You swallowed, what could be so important on his datapad. You apparently just had surgery and broke two bones! "What are you doing?" You tried not to sound passive aggressive.

"Checking your vitals. I am concerned with your risk of infection." He said, now looking up at you.

"Oh..." You felt silly now.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Tech then reached for your good arm. He set the datapad down, his full attention on you now. He guided you to sit up.

"When you fell," He gently rotated your arm to be palm up. "Your arm was like this." He turned your wrist. With the lightest touch you'd ever felt, he traced the outline of your two bones on your forearm. "See how they cross? You were unlucky, just breaking the ulna or radius would be a much easier fix. We will need to stabilize both now."

He was referencing some sort of cast.

"I have it wrapped now, as the bone did pierce your skin." He said.

"Thank you..."

"Of course, you needed medical attention. I am more than capable of administering it."

You bit down on your lip, very careful to notice he was still holding your wrist gently.

"No, I mean. Thank you, for saving me..."

He released your wrist, resting his hand next to your thigh. "Oh, well, you are welcome."

It was quiet again. You sheepishly scanned the room, trying not to look at him.

"I was, I-" He took a deep breath. "When you screamed, I felt... I was..." He thought on what word applied best. "Scared."

You tried to reassure him, "I'm okay now."

"I thought you had been shot." He couldn't meet your eye.

You shuffled closer, as much as you were able. "Tech-"

"I've never felt like that before." He admitted, now looking at you.

You reached your right arm out, a hand on his cheek.

With your name leaving his lips, "You are special. I recognize that- that my feelings for you are more exaggerated than anyone else."

Your cheeks felt hot, you were sure they were colored. "Tech, I completely understand the feeling.."

"You do?" He questioned, almost like he was writing mental notes down.

"Yes. I feel the exact same way." You confessed. "About who?" He got slightly defensive, stiffening up.

With a suppressed laugh, you smirked. "You."

He clicked his tongue, almost as a 'Eureka' moment.

Your thumb moved up and down on his cheek. You were unsure what he was comfortable doing with the new information. Though, knew he'd stop you if he was put off by you.

At that thought, you leaned in. Your heart swelled when he did the same, your lips meeting. He was soft, slow, and full of meaning. He was still aware of your injuries. You, however, forgot the second your lips touched his.

It was all promptly followed by a gasp of pain by you, as the leaning put pressure on your leg.

"Oh, you also fractured your fibula. Perhaps we shall continue later." He ran a finger up your leg, showing you where it was. It was an innocent act, but your brain didn't care. You were red as a tomato.

His datapad beeped, he picked it up. "Are you okay? Your heart rate has significantly increased the past minute." He looked at you warily.

His lack of recognition of your embarrassment just made your heart beat faster. "Yes, Tech. I'll be fine..." You said, a laugh finally breaking free at his confused face.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[frannyzooey]

The Dinner

Marcus Moreno x f!college reader

The Secret Universe

Rating: Explicit, Daddy Kink™ (seriously, like a lot)

A/N: I have many people to thank for this one: @imaswellkid @the-ginger-hedge-witch @whatsnewalycat @obiknights and the amazing @the-scandalorian - every single one of them gave me the most amazing advice, but also gave me endless reassurance when I needed it, and I could never thank them enough. Sometimes it really takes a village ❤

--

“How is stats this semester? Need any help?” 

You take a slow sip of your ice water, listening. 

“It’s okay,” Missy replies. “Better, now that I signed up for tutoring during my free period, which — “ she points her fork at her father, who currently has a slightly smug expression on his face, “— totally sucks. I know you said it would help, and it did, but at what cost, dad?”

His shoulders move as he huffs a laugh and he pokes around his dinner plate, spearing some roasted broccoli. Shrugging, he glances at you. “Is a couple of hours a week impacting your guys' social life that bad?”

“No, sir,” you answer with a polite smile. 

The title slips off your tongue with ease, and his playful expression falters for a moment. 

Clearing his throat, he shifts in his chair. “That’s what I thought.” 

He takes a swallow of his water — a small sip, then a larger one — and the three of you continue to eat. 

The dining room where you sit is seldom used, but cozy. The lighting dim but inviting, the sparse surface of the table lends it a more formal appearance and you think about how much you would have preferred to eat at the table in the kitchen. The one you passed earlier, cluttered with mail, magazines, keys, and other things that never really have any other home than a flat surface in the kitchen. 

Eating there would have made you feel more at ease. Eating here makes you feel more like a guest. And with Marcus at the head of the table, the formality of the seating arrangement pulls at you: a constant reminder of who he is. 

Forks slide against plates, glasses being set down with a muted thud on the wooden surface of the table and when Missy reaches for another bread roll, a glance over at him has you noticing his body language.  

He’s looking everywhere but you – at a painting on the wall, at his half eaten plate, at the condensation gathering on his glass. He lets his hand rest around the glass, his thumb swiping through the water and a thrumming, heady pulse that Missy seems oblivious to grows until it fills the space between your chairs. 

Swallowing, you place your elbow on the table near his own. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his attention turns back to Missy. 

“What else is new?” he asks. “I never hear from you anymore. The room still okay? The bed still make that funny noise?”

Missy frowns, holding a bite of chicken aloft in front of her mouth. “How did you know about that?” 

Marcus sits up straight, shifting again in his chair and opening his mouth as if getting ready to speak, but Missy interrupts him. 

“Oh yea, it was there on move in day,” she remembers. “Whatever. No, we got that tool kit out that you gave me at the beginning of the year and fixed it yesterday. A real girl boss moment.”

She looks over at you and grins, and you return it despite the rapid beat of your heart.

“Yea,” you add, not allowing your eyes to stray from her face. “You killed it.”

You can feel his eyes on you, aware out of the corner of your eye how they slide down your frame and back up again. Whether he’s conscious of it or not, he’s been doing it all night and you want nothing more than to return the look, but you don’t. 

“You ladies have any plans for the weekend?” Marcus asks. 

Missy nods, excitement filling her eyes. “Yea, I think so? I got laundry and stuff to catch up on, but there is this party tomorrow night I wanna go to. I got a text about it earlier, I think it’s around 8ish?”

A small frown appears between Marcus’s brows. “Where’s it at? Around here?”

“Yea, I think so? I’m not really sure. I’ll have to look up the address or something.”

He doesn’t like that answer, you can tell by the way his frown doesn’t go away and you chance a peek at his face while he’s distracted. A pulsing beat gathers between your thighs, at both the sternness of his expression but also the care behind it. 

“Well,” he continues, taking another bite of dinner. “Let me know, okay? I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

“Dad,” Missy playfully whines. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out under the table and when one of his knees knocks into yours, you still. 

His eyes glance down, a short, apologetic smile showing briefly in your direction but he doesn’t move it. It stays there, his leg shifting just enough to press against yours with intent and as the dinner goes on, you resist the urge to smile. 

–

You met them both for the first time on move-in day. 

Cars lined along the driveway to the dorms with their trunks crammed full of new bedding and boxes and the bare essentials for kitchens and showers, you noticed them right away. 

Missy, true to the picture she emailed you weeks ago when introducing herself as your new roommate, and Marcus, when he stepped around the side of the car to open the trunk. Close-cropped dark hair shone browner in the sun, the strands neatly combed into place, yet slightly curled with the humidity. His shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders, tucked neatly into dress pants that fit him perfectly. The fabric pulled across his back when he leaned forward to reach in for the first boxes and when Missy shouted your name, he turned around. 

You had to pull your eyes away from his face to greet her with a shy smile. 

He stuck around the entire morning – making sure the lofts were set up correctly, helping move furniture, his kind, good humored eyes on his daughter as he took in her first day at college. He offered to take the two of you out to lunch in celebration, but before you could reply, Missy shooed him away. 

“We’re gonna go grab a coffee or something. Get to know each other. You can get outta here, dad. Thanks for the help.”

You could tell she genuinely meant it, but the paltry thanks wasn’t enough in your opinion. He had already done more than your parents had ever done for you, and you wondered what it was like to grow up in a house where it happened so often you took it for granted. Your parents hadn’t even bothered to give you a ride on your first day, you had taken the bus with your meager boxes. 

He humored her, giving her a soft smile and when he turned to say goodbye to you, you made sure to hold his gaze when you thanked him. 

“Not a problem,” he replied sincerely. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

–

The two of them clear the plates while you grab what you can from the table, and it’s apparent that they have their own shorthand method of communication with each other. She clears, he starts the dishwater. She empties scraps into the trash to stack plates neatly by the sink, and when you help her, his eyes linger on your mouth when he turns to say thank you. 

A routine that had never taken place in your own home, you revel in the roles everyone plays. The comfort of them, the domesticity. You imagine the two of them doing this every night before Missy left for college, and the mental image of Marcus standing at the sink with his t-shirt stretched over the strong muscles of his back warms you from the inside out. Even more when you think about him reminding Missy to clear her place, or asking her what she wants in her lunch tomorrow. 

The qualities of a dad: one who does because he cares, but also guides. 

Done clearing, Missy leaves the room, the telltale sound of the washer door opening down the hall, and Marcus stills at the sink, listening. 

“Listen, don’t jam it all in there like last time, okay?” he warns, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. “You can do more than one load. No rush, Missy, okay?”

“Yea, yea, I got it,” she yells back, and he sighs, shaking his head. You meet his eye in a knowing look, and the corner of his lips pulls up in a rueful smile. 

“She almost broke it last time, trying to fit about a month of clothes in all at once.”

You laugh, and nod. “She does that at the dorm too.” 

He shakes his head, pushing his hands into the water. 

“You don’t need to use those machines — either of you. You’re always welcome to come over and do it here,” he offers, searching in the sudsy water for a plate. Finding it, he begins scrubbing it with a rag. “Either of you. Even if she can’t come, you can.”

A pause.

“Anytime you want.”

The invitation hangs between the two of you in the silence, and you keep your eyes on his forearms as they flex above the suds. A sudden, unbidden image of them flexing between your thighs flashes through your mind, the weight of his fingers felt inside you. 

His voice lowers. “We could even plan it that way, so we don’t have to keep…“

He gives you a knowing look, and guilt gnaws at you as you listen to Missy hum in the next room.  

“It’s not that I don’t want that,” you explain, your voice keeping quiet. “I just don’t want…” Uncertainty flashes across your features and when you look up, you find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Don’t want what?” he asks. 

Unsure how to put your fear into words, you hesitate. Moving your meetings to his house somehow makes them more of an offense in your mind. In the space he shares with his daughter; their family home. 

The duality of the man standing next to you has been messing with you all night: the Marcus that stands beside you now versus the Marcus that you know. The unassuming, kind face of a good father masking the hooded lust you know his eyes contain. The strength held in his arms when he takes the trash out; the flex of them under your bare knees when he spreads you wide. His plush bottom lip in a soft smile for his daughter; the same pressing against your skin, your mouth, between your legs. 

A secret shadow follows him around constantly, fleeting slices of the man you know appearing if you watch him long enough. His throaty laugh, the spread of his thighs on the couch, the flex of his jaw.

Seeing him here in his kitchen or at the head of the dining room table has the men merging in your mind despite your ability, until now, to keep them separate. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth, thinking. 

“Don’t want what?” he repeats, softer this time, tenderness curling around the words and you’re about to answer when Missy walks back into the kitchen. 

“Hey, you don’t have to help him with that. I got it.”

He stands taller, shifting away from you and you back up from the sink, making room for her. She immediately scoops a delicate mound of bubbles and flicks them at Marcus, laughing when he grimaces with a chuckle. The teasing makes you smile.

He’s so good with her — so patient, and kind, and attentive. So genuinely invested in her answers in a way you’d never experienced, and though you are happy for your best friend in that she has such a doting parent, you’d be lying if you said a little jealousy never crept into your heart when you watched them. 

Not because you wanted either of them to choose you, but because they so clearly had each other. Someone to depend on; a traditional parental/child relationship full of trust and respect and love. 

You watch them for a moment as they work in tandem, their mannerisms similar from behind. 

“I’m gonna take a shower before bed,” you announce, and excusing yourself from the room, you leave them to finish the dishes. 

—

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Down the hall from his room and across from Missy’s, the guest bedroom door clicks shut quietly in the dark. The shuffle of sheets whispering as you shift to make room for him in the bed, the mattress dips when he joins you, the heat of his body felt close. His hands reach for you, pulling you closer and there are no other words spoken as his mouth meets yours, deepening the kiss immediately. 

His tongue slides against your own, your taste familiar and maddeningly addictive, and he groans deeply into it, rolling you onto your back. 

Beneath the solid weight of his body is your favorite place – secure, safe, desired, wanted. Trapped between the soft bed and the scent of his warm skin, his mouth takes and takes and takes from yours until you’re drunk with arousal beneath him, wanting to stay there forever. 

“I wanted you so bad at dinner,” he breathes in a low confession. “So fucking bad, even when you walked through the door.”

Every one of his words is matched with a weighted grind of his hips into the cradle of your thighs, and you roll right back against him, a soft sound catching in your throat at the delicious pressure. There is something that makes you weak about his voice in general, but when he swears – especially in his desperation to express how much he’s wanted you – it lights a path straight from your ears to your center; need blooming fierce and bright.

You would tell him how much you thought about him just as much if his mouth didn’t immediately cover yours again, and pushing your fingers through his close-cropped dark hair, you match his urgency. Your knees hitch higher around his broad torso, your thighs tightening with every flex of your hips up and the stiff length of his cock underneath his sleep pants fits perfectly along the damp seam darkening your underwear. 

You can feel the thick ridge of it, aching for the filling heft as he grinds his hips against you again and again, and whimpering for more underneath him, the words slip out. 

“Please, daddy.”

He stills for a split second, breaking the kiss as a shudder slips through him and a wash of embarrassed heat floods your face, but it’s quickly replaced with arousal when he groans as if in pain, his furrowed brow pressed into the plane of your chest. 

His hand splays against your side to keep you in place with a pained press of his fingers. “Jesus Christ, baby, you can’t — you can’t say things like that. Please. Please.”

“But I want it,” you whisper. 

You do. You’ve wanted it ever since you met him, just knowing by looking at him that he would give you what you need. So thoughtful, so considerate and kind, so attentive and warm but also very much a man – a handsome, understated man with needs that showed clear on his face every time you met him after that first time. 

The second, third, fourth time you met him, the flicker of interest in his dark brown eyes. 

The magnetic, heady pulse of attraction that filled the small room when he showed up once while Missy was at class. 

The lunch that he invited you to instead of her, and the undivided attention he gave you from across the table. The way he reminded you to buckle your seatbelt, and the way you leaned over and kissed him when he waited a beat too long reluctantly saying goodbye outside your dorm, on the street.  

That first, tentative kiss after he followed you back to your room at the reassurance Missy had classes that afternoon, and the frown furrowed between his brows, both at how wrong it was to want this and relief at finally giving in. 

The soft cotton of your sheets sliding against your bare back, the way his body seemed too big for the narrow twin. 

His giving mouth, soothing guidance rumbled in his deep voice. 

Something that’s taken root in your mind with every time he brings you to bed, you don’t know how else to describe how you want to be tucked into his side to be made felt safe and secure, while also fucked deep into the mattress until you’re sobbing with fullness. 

Being here with him has made the need for it unbearable, and what you do know is that no matter what you want, he’ll give it to you. 

Your confession is a quiet one that lingers in the air and he looks up, his doleful, brown eyes finding yours. They stay there, searching for the truth and when he finds it in your slightly ashamed expression, he pulls himself up until you are face to face. 

“Yea?” he asks, soothing stray hairs at your temple. “You want a daddy?”

The word gives him pause, but his cock hardens painfully against the cool sheets and when you nod, the vulnerability shown on your face is so open that he finds himself mirroring it, wanting to soothe. 

He not only understands but wants, so very badly.  

“Okay, okay,” he agrees. The tension in your body drains as you soften underneath him; pliant and moldable for his needs. “Say it again, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whisper in a relieved rush, your plush lips parting only just. 

His hooded eyes watch the word slip from your mouth, and his thumb skates along the plump cushion of your bottom lip, before pushing just inside. He slides his thumb over the wet muscle of your tongue, letting you suck on it. 

Bright need swells and aches between his thighs, your soft, lush skin slipping against his as you squirm in need underneath him and he slips his thumb from your mouth before pressing his lips to yours with a rough kiss. 

Desperate to feel the clutch of your tight, wet cunt, he reaches down to open you up for him, his hand slipping beneath your panties and his fingers sliding with a familiar swipe through your soaked curls. He finds the dip where you need him most, your arousal soaking the pads of his competent touch and his breathing quickens, his eyes flitting between your face and his cotton covered hand. 

The same fingers that made dinner, that queued up the movie, that clasped under his chin when he listened to Missy talk. The same ones that held the steering wheel in a loose grip as he drove you to the store.

They’ve slid into your mouth before, and then your cunt. Brushed against the puckered rim of your asshole, swirled with divine pressure over your clit, and filled you to the brim until you cried out, your cunt a snug slip around them. 

Two fill you now with an urgent slide, the action making him swallow the soft catch of your whine and the ease in which he slips them in and out is aided by how wet and ready you are for him. 

Always so wet; his perfect girl.

“When you called me ‘sir’ at the dinner table,” he pants, nuzzling the bridge of his nose along your jaw as he looks down at his hand. Your thighs open wider for him, and you softly moan, chasing the thick fill of his fingers. “I almost fucking lost it. So sweet. So sweet, baby.” 

“Just – just for you.” Your brow furrowed in pleasure, you chase what he’s building inside you, your small hand slipping down to cover his larger one. Your fingers push over his, guiding him as if he needs it, and the both of you get lost in the slick, consuming motion; his eyes glued on your parted mouth. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to say it. The daddy thing, I –”

“Don’t be sorry. No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, baby. I wanna hear it. I want it.”

His soothing words wash over you, your cunt accepting him deeper as he adds a third finger and before he gives you time to adjust, he’s slipping them from your wet heat, sliding them into his mouth with a suck. He groans with a frown, his lashes dark against his face as his eyes flutter shut and he shifts abruptly down the bed. 

His fingers grip the band of your underwear and tug them roughly down your legs before the width of his shoulders forces your knees apart. The heat of his mouth felt in a humid gust against your spread, bared seam, he tugs you tight to his face, and the emptiness left by the sudden absence of his fingers is immediately replaced with his thick, eager tongue. 

“Marcus!”

His whiskered cheeks brushing roughly against the tender skin on the inside of your thighs, he devours your cunt, his back flexing as he nearly pushes you up the bed in his hunger if not for the way his hands curl around the top of your thighs to hold you in place.  

“Shhh, baby. Shhh,” he reminds you, and you let out a quiet sob, clasping your hand over your mouth. 

He’s so much, a sensory overload being amplified by the darkness around you: the needy grip of his large hands, the slick slide of his tongue, the muffled groans he’s letting out between your legs. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he breathes, his mouth dragging damply over the inside of your thigh with a thick kiss before he licks your clit with the flat of his tongue. He slides it from side to side with pressure, a motion that makes you bow off the bed. 

Mindless with pleasure, you’re overcome with the need to anchor yourself to something — the direct attention is so much, too much — and your hands fist the sheets, your back arching. 

“I washed it just for you, daddy.”

You should be embarrassed but all traces of shame are turned to cinder the second he groans deep and loud, the sound muffled by the way he immediately buries his face with an open mouthed kiss. It’s messy and decadent, his tongue pushing inside you and then it swipes lower. 

Your hips jolt up to meet it; his low, satisfied groan sounding between your cheeks. 

“Fuck,” you whine, the tip of his tongue pressing against the tight ring of muscle before he flattens it to lick a wide, wet stripe from the seam of your ass all the way to your clit. Another one, before he gives your soaked entrance a hungry kiss and the pressure of his face being buried so deep makes you grind against him, your hips moving in time with his, as he seeks his own relief against the sheets. 

“I’m gonna — I’m gonna fucking come. Daddy, you’re gonna make me come.” 

It’s a plea if he’s ever heard one, and he zeroes his focus in on your clit — circling it with his tongue before giving it a light suck. He keeps going as you thread your fingers into his hair with a tug, keeps going as you press your lips together to try to stifle your moans, and keeps going when your thighs tense around his cheeks and you come with a breathless whimper; his tongue swiping hungrily through the salt of your release.

All tension in your body gone, he kisses a path slowly up your body while you lay and catch your breath – up over the top of your thigh, the rounded curve of your hip, the soft, plush underside of your breast. 

He cradles you to his chest, tugging you onto your side as his mouth drags along the line of your neck. He kisses a path over the skin and your hips shift, seeking his out. He can feel you squirming, looking for relief and bellies together, he rolls you onto your back, your hands working together to push his pajama bottoms down and off. 

Your touch is back to frantic as he pulls from your mouth, his hands cradling the sides of your head to keep you in place as he gets his fill and you wind your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push inside. 

He does – a motion that makes your moan get lost underneath his deeper one – and the snap of his hips is immediate and hard, the filling weight of his cock pushing the air from your lungs. 

His lips kiss your closed eyelids, his tongue sweeping over the salt rimmed lashes where a tear lingers and his mouth finds the fragrant, soft skin below your ear. His lips press against it, his mustache tickling you, the roll of his hips never ceasing. 

“You’re being so good for daddy. So good.”

Your eyes open and find his, and he throbs with how sincerely vulnerable you look underneath him right now, desperate to know you’re being good. 

“You’re such a good girl. Always letting me fuck you the way I want. Always letting me take care of you, like you take care of me.” His lips find the corner of your mouth, the delicacy of the kiss in contrast with the way you have to dig your nails into his broad back to hang on as he fucks you harder and he pulls back just enough to look at your face.

“You’re so good, aren’t you, baby. Aren’t you.”

It’s not a question for you to answer, but rather a statement he needs you to confirm and you nod, a tiny frown of pleasure appearing between your brows as you shift rhythmically underneath him. 

“My baby,” he murmurs, catching your mouth in a deep kiss. “My baby.” 

Your hand trails down the line of his spine and splays over his tailbone, sweat beading along the skin as he fills, fills, fills and you widen your thighs, digging your fingers into the swell of his ass to force him deeper. 

“Please, daddy. Please.”

His hips shift into a slow, weighted grind when you beg using those words. He never pulls all the way out, rather forcing himself so deep into the heart of you that you tremble with the need to come underneath him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty. So pretty when you’re gonna come.”

His praise fills you with light from the inside out, pouring out through your sweat damp skin where it’s flush with his own and another tear slips free; your release both a bright, shining edge that he’s guiding you towards and a strong, powerful current that threatens to pull you under. 

“Give it to me.” 

His voice is husky and strained, a quiet plea for you to let go and when you do with a silent cry, the deep dimpled smile on his face is a proud one, equal parts awe and lust. 

He follows shortly after, the tight, wet clutch of your cunt too much for him – but it’s your relieved face that makes him spend every ounce inside you with slow, smooth strokes until there is nothing left. You look so light underneath him, so content and drowsy and drunk with relief. 

He can’t help himself when he bends to kiss the tear track that runs over your temple, giving you another kiss on the apple of your cheek. 

“So good. You were so good.”

You’re so spent you can’t even kiss him back, rather letting him gently nudge you to meet his mouth and even then you let him take what he needs from your kiss swollen lips, opening up for him when his mouth demands it. 

Eventually he shifts, just enough to settle beside you rather than on top, but you automatically follow the heat of his body, curling into his chest. 

“There’s, uh —” he starts, closing his eyes. You watch the thud of his pulse under the tanned skin of his neck. He licks his plush lips, trying to catch his breath. “There’s milk and cereal — or eggs, if you want those in the morning. I didn’t know what you guys would want, so I —“

Your quiet laugh stops him and he looks down at you, smiling when he sees your expression. 

“Are you really telling me about my breakfast options, like some kinda guest?”

“Yea, I guess I am,” he grins. “But you are a special guest in this house,” he replies, tugging you closer. His mouth finds the curve of your collarbone, his smile felt against the skin there. “Especially for me.”

“Guests really get the full treatment here, huh,” you tease. “Dinner, laundry, breakfast, their ass eate—“

You can almost feel his blush in the dark, his fingers immediately digging into your side to stop your sentence, and your stifled giggles fill the dark room but he doesn’t let up until you’re squirming underneath him, breathlessly begging him to stop. 

“What?” you laugh, trying to keep quiet. “I liked that part of the turn down service.”

He grins, the knowing smile of a pleased man who is well aware he did good. He leans in, putting his mouth by your ear. 

“Good to know. Maybe tomorrow the service will include it again.” He pulls back and winks, leaning back in to give you a quick, full kiss. 

“I wish I could stay, but I better get back to my room.”

“I know.”

“See you in the morning?” he asks, so soft and mussed and hopeful yet grown; his voice low and husky. His eyes are soft with affection, his unwavering gaze showing that he genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay before he leaves. 

His hand cradles the curve of your cheek, his thumb swiping along the line of your cheekbone and you tilt to press a kiss against the heel of it. Relief like you haven’t ever known floods through you, but more than that is what you feel underneath that earnest gaze. 

Safe, secure. In both yourself, and what you mean to him. 

“Yea. See you in the morning.”

He smiles, bending to place a delicate, warm kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

You sigh with contentment. 

“Goodnight, daddy.”

[psych0-str1ngs]

Cockwarming- Duff Mckagan x reader

Authors Note: FINALLY have a duff request that makes me so happy like OMG. If you end up seeing this anon, sorry it took me so long but I hope you enjoy!!

Warning: Cockwarming, cussing, breeding kink, p in v, pregnancy mentions (UNPROTECTED)

You were sitting at your desk, zoned in on the article, half-finished laying on the wooden surface. You hadn't even heard Duff walk into your little home office, until he came up behind where you were sitting and stood there for a second.

"Babbyyy," He cooed.

"oh my you scared me," You gasped, turning around in your chair.

"I need your help," He looked down at you, expectantly.

"With what?" You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He looked down at the large tent in his pants, and then back to you. You looked down, discovering the exact problem he had. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'm still working," You dismissed him.

"Just sit on my cock," He said, turning your chair back around.

"What like, cock warming?" You blushed.

"Yeah I guess," He said shrugging. "Sit on my dick while you do your work, and then let me fuck you after"

"You sure know what you want," You got up and slid your panties down, now just wearing your skirt, and sweater. Duff sat down on the chair, pulling out his large member and holding it at the base. You turned and sat on his length slowly, exhaling deeply. Duff's hands immediately went to your hips. He turned you back to the desk, his hands kneading at your hips. Your breathing had slowed, but your heart rate had not. Sex was obviously was a norm between you and Duff.

Cock warming was a whole different story though, as much as you didn't want to admit it, cock warming was hot. Duff making you sit on his dick while you do completely and totally innocent activities, it turned you on. What didn't turn you on was the fact that when you did things like this, if you even so much as moved a hair, Duff would make you get off, and get on your knees.

Duff's hands started to roam, his rough fingers gripped your breasts, breathing into your heavily. He slid your sweater off, and unclasped your bra, letting your boobs fall out, his long fingers started to twisted your nipples as his lips pressed against your shoulder.

"Let's go to the bedroom," You caved, starting to stand up.

"No," He pulled you back town into his lips, you let out a little moan. "You have work to do, so finish it"

"But," You protested.

"No, no butts," His dominant voice spoke out. "You need to finish it"

You sighed and continued to work, just about 5 or 6 minutes later you were done. You immediately got off of Duff's length, and turned around to where you were sitting back on his lap, just below his length. You smashed your lips into his, your hands rested on his neck. Your lips moved in sync, Duff's hands held your ass, grabbing it tightly. He stood up, not breaking the kiss, you slowly made your way towards the bedroom.

Duff walked through the door frame, throwing you on the bed. He threw his shirt off and sat in between your legs, he looked down at you. Your eyes found his, you giggled a bit at how serious he looked. He leaned down to press on singular kiss to your nose. Even when he was feeling animalistic, he was still extremely sweet, if you weren't in the mood, he'd go fix it himself, if it hurt he slowed down. Total teddy bear.

"Ready?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

"Yes babe," You whispered.

Duff grabbed his length, sliding it into your entrance, you both groaned. After sitting on him for so long, you were both extremely sensitive. He began to pound into you, his hands gripped your hips tightly, sliding you back and forth on his length. You moaned.

"Fuck baby," He groaned lowly. "turn around and get on your knees.

You turned around, your ass lifted in the air. Your face pressed into your arm, that was rested on the mattress. Duff slid into you again with a bruising grip on your waist. He pounded into you, one of his hands twisted into your hair, tugging it harshly. You moaned into the pillows.

"Look at you taking my cock so well," He growled. "'m gonna fill you up sweetheart, 'm gonna make you a momma."

You moaned into the white sheets again. Your hands gripped them tightly. Duff had always loved the idea of you being the mother of his children. The idea of you with a big round stomach, and engorged breasts, it had WILDLY turned him on, he made it quite clear. You were surprised you weren't pregnant by now, considering how many times you had done it without a condom.

"Duff baby," You whimpered out.

"Yes princess," He panted out.

"Need it," You said, your legs shaking.

"Need what?" He slowed down, but his thrusts remained sharp and deep. "To cum?"

"Yes, please god, please let me cum," You moaned out.

"Fuck no," He gave your ass a hard slap. "You cum when I say you cum, do you understand?"

"Y-yes," You sighed, clenching around him.

Duff gave another slap to your ass, pounding back into you with a hard thrust. He groaned, whispering dirty little nothings into your ear.

"Doing so good, 'm almost there," He groaned into your ear.

With a few more thrusts, Duff legs started to shake, and hips started to falter. The coil in your stomach was burning red hot, you felt as though you were about to burst open.

"Cum with me baby, fuck," He cursed, shooting his hot seed inside of you.

You clenched around him tightly, releasing on his length. You both lay there, panting heavily. You fell on your side, before getting on your back. You giggled as Duff leaned his head on your bare chest, collecting his breath.

"Are you okay?" He asked, genuinely.

"Of course my love," You smiled at him.

"Mkay good," He shifted off of you, grabbing a pair of your underwear, and two of his shirts, as well as shorts for him.

He threw the clothes at you, you slid to the end of the bed, standing up. Immediately your legs buckled under you and fell back onto the bed. Duff laughed. He grabbed the underwear from your hands, sliding it up your legs and slipping them onto your hips, then he slid the shirt over your arms before laying next you, already clothed. You leaned your head on his shoulder and linked your fingers together.

"Duff," You said quietly.

"Hm?" He hummed, looking down at your face.

"Do you really want me to carry your children?" You asked, leaning your head up to look at him.

"Of course I do, I love you so much," He smiled lightly, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly.

"I love you too," You smiled.

THE END, if you see this anon, please enjoy~~~

[mrs-takami-keigo]

Motivation

Main Pairing: Hawks/Fem!Reader

Story Rating: Explicit! 18+

Genre: Smut, just pure Smut

Words: 2.2K

Sweat trickled down your body as heavy breaths came out of your slightly parted lips, chest falling with each deep exhale. The gym was stifling; suffocating even if all that covered your body was a sports bra and biker shorts. You could feel your mouth get dry with each shaky breath. Dropping your stance, you walked to the bench behind where the black duffle bag you brought sat grabbing your bottle of water. 

“I see you started without me chickadee.” With the bottle still attached to your parched lips you looked at the male that just entered the room, nearly spitting the water back out. Hawks was finishing his hand wraps, pulling the last tiny piece with his teeth, all the while staring at you with those brilliant golden flecked eyes. The rate of your heart quickened and your knees became weak, as he kept walking closer. His attire was simple, wearing sneakers and a pair of basketball shorts that hung almost too low on his hips and a tank top that showed off the lean definition of muscles on his arms. 

“Hello, is anyone home?” The feeling of his knuckles knocking on the side of your head was enough to bring you back out of the daze.

“HA HA you’re very funny Hawks, what took you so long anyway? I’ve been here for about forty-five minutes.” Putting the water bottle back in your bag, you fixed your own hand wraps seeing as how they came loose while you worked on the punching bag.

“Would you believe it if I said there was traffic?” Hawks pushed his shoulders up, cocking his head to the left showing you his signature smirk. 

“I would if we lived with flying cars, birdman, now give me fifty push-ups since you want to be such a smart ass.” Pushing his shoulder as you walked past him laughing at the annoyed face he made. Hawks had known you were going to come to the gym at the agency and asked you to help him with some boxing training. The both of you knew he could brush up on some combat skills seeing as his wings could only do so much for him in a fight.

By the time you were done with his warm up you could tell he was ready to call it quits. You were sure he was ready to walk out on you when he had to do battle ropes. After counting his last sit up, you bounced up from the floor standing in front of him, your hand reaching out, 

“Come on, let's spar!”

He watched you in disbelief, “You have literally pulled every ounce of energy out of me and now you want to practice hand to hand?” His rough hand grabbed yours as you pulled him to his feet but little did you know he was going to use his wings to help give himself a boost. With your own strength and his wings, it was as if he weighed nothing making him crash into you. Before you realized it, your back was on the cold black floor mats and his sweaty chest was pressed against yours, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and a knee trapped in between your legs. It wasn’t until your eyes started to open did you realize they had shut. 

Once your sight came into focus all you saw was a mess of soft blonde hair falling forward framing Hawks face as the ends tickled areas of your face. It felt like time had slowed for a minute as your gaze looked over every aspect of his face. He was always a gorgeous man to you but you never wanted to admit that, no you were too scared of ruining the relationship you already built. His own roaming across your face, fierce eyes watching as that pink tongue of yours peaked out ever so slightly to lick those plump lips he had been dying to touch. 

Your eyes met his as both of your breaths synchronized, shallow and shaky, chest heaving as one. Hawks shifted his weight from his knee that was in between your legs to the other but as he did that it brushed against the already sensitive core. You couldn’t fight the small whimper that came from your throat. Noticing what you just did, your hands shot up to cover your mouth. But it was too late. Hawks heard it and he felt something stir in him. Smirking he moved that cursed knee again only this time with intent, letting it press firmly against your cunt giving it a light nudge. Staring back at him eyes wide while the hands covering your mouth tightened to stifle the moan that evidently was heard by the man above you. 

“Well, well what’s this now?” The blonde went to remove those hands silencing the sounds he desperately wanted to hear from you. Grabbing both your wrists he pinned them above your head with one of his wrapped hands pressing firmly against them. 

“Seems like someone is getting excited.” Hawks had moved his face down to whisper in your ear. The light hair from his beard brushed against your skin causing your body to shudder under his. 

“Fuck you Keigo.” You started to wiggle trying to get out of his grasp. Oh, you wanted it, you wanted him just not in the agency’s gym. You felt his grip loosen on your wrists letting you break free from his grasp. 

“Only if you want to, baby girl.” The heat in your cheeks started to rise when it hit you that he was dead serious. You knew the difference between playful Hawks and the serious Keigo, and right now he was Keigo.

“Hawks we are in the middle of the gym at YOUR agency, I think it’s highly inappropriate, don’t you?” Pushing yourself up on your elbows, he was still hovering above you, leaving you with very little room.

“See now dove, that's where you’re wrong.” Before you could even blink a red feather flew off from his right wing going towards the door behind him. Peering around him you watched as the little feather pushed the lock on the doorknob before hooking its base in the ring that hung from the string of the blind, pulling it down. 

“It’s not inappropriate since it's my agency.” Taking the back of his hand he brushed it against your hot cheek. “What would be inappropriate is if I did this without your permission. Just say the word and I’ll make that feather unlock the door and we could leave this here on the mat, your choice.”

Just the thought of having Hawks throw you down on this mat and letting him have his way with you was enough for you to make your choice. “No one will come in, right? Are you sure that door is locked?” 

“Oh, princess, I'm positive it's locked.” That devilish smirk appeared across his lips again and you’re sure you felt your damp cunt clench. Grabbing the back of his head you slammed your lips against his. Hawks didn’t hesitate to kiss you with the same fire as you did, leaning forward Hawks laid you back down never letting his plump lips leave yours. Wrapping both arms around his neck you pushed your chest up into his, earning a groan from the hero. Hawks licked your bottom lip seeking entrance into your mouth before biting down on it.

 Moaning into the kiss you parted your lips letting his  skillful tongue slip past your teeth. God the way his tongue moved with yours only led you to think what they would feel like as it licked your slick folds. 

Hawks took his right hand letting it roam down your side with a ghost-like touch. The feeling of his rough hands on your exposed skin had you rolling your hips on his thigh looking for something to relieve the tension he had started to build inside of you. Hawks grabbed the back of your thigh, wrapping it around his slim waist while his hand made its way to your ass before giving it a hard squeeze. 

Breaking away from your lips he started to kiss down your neck, gently sucking on certain parts. His other wandering hand came back up to grab your jaw firmly making you turn your head to the side. 

“Baby girl you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Gasping as you felt his lips brush against your ear as he whispered those sinful words. His tongue peaked out giving your neck a swift lick followed by a gentle bite of his canine teeth. You weren’t sure what heaven felt like, but dammit this must have been close. Hawks released your jaw to let his slightly calloused hand drag down your chest to rub against your fabric clad breasts. His thumb tracing circles on your nipple, hardening it. 

“How long I wanted to kiss you. Shit dove, I've even dreamt of how these lips of yours would feel, and this is way better than that.” The man's lips brushed against yours with each word he spoke, it was a tease. He went back to kissing your neck before nuzzling his nose in your hair.

 “How long I’ve wanted to feel your smooth skin on my fingertips.” The hand that was fondling your breast moved, skimming your exposed stomach before landing on the waistband of your shorts. Those sinful lips returned to your ear as he snarled. 

“How long I’ve waited to have you whimpering underneath me as I showed you what pure euphoria felt like.” So lost in his voice you didn’t even notice he had both hands on your waistband until you felt the yank of his hands pulling off your shorts, taking your underwear with it. With your bottoms by your knees he lifted your legs in the air pulling them past your sneakers, throwing them somewhere behind him. Hawks grabbed hold of your calves before placing them on his shoulders. He gave your legs a small tentative kiss, hooded eyes staring into yours. You felt him guide his hands down your shins, stopping at the middle of your thighs. You were burning up, your cheeks were flushed, heavy pants coming out of you making your mouth dry. All you wanted was him, you wanted to feel him on you…in you. 

“Fuck baby look at that. Is that all for me?” Eyes watched as he took his pointer finger gently, swiping it between your folds. It was then you realized just how wet he made you. You moaned at the sight of him taking that coated finger to his lips, his tongue giving it a seductive lick, Hawks hummed.

“I always imagined how you would taste but damn little dove I never imagined it would be this fucking good.” Taking his entire finger, he placed it in his mouth, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he savored the taste, your taste.

“K-Keigo Please..” Those were the only words you could form, hoping the man in between your legs would just give you what you want.

“Please what baby girl, you have to use your words.” Hawks was now back to hovering over your heated body, making sure to not touch you.

“I want to feel you please!” Arching your back attempting to feel some part of him touching you. That devilish smirk grazed hislips; god did you love that smirk. His hand was beside your head, arm muscles flexing as it helped keep him above you. You felt one of his fingers from his free hand caress your cheek, agonizing slow as it made its way down your soft cheek. Then down your neck against your rapid pulse, across your chest. He ran it between your breasts slightly pulling on the sports bra. Down your stomach before reaching his destination. 

Slowly he let his middle finger press on your bundle of nerves. It felt exhilarating like he pressed a button that sent you into overdrive. Observant eyes watched your reaching, how your body arched against him. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a shuddering breath falling from those bruised lips. Your hair was around you, creating a halo effect, small moans making themselves known with each swipe of his finger against you. 

Haws was sure he was looking at an angel. An angel that he so desperately craved. The finger that was torturing you with each movement went slightly lower, brushing against your entrance. A gasp was heard through the room as your eyes shot open, your hands shot up to press against his chest.

“Inside…” It was a whisper but Hawks heard you and had no choice but to oblige. Slowly you felt him slip a finger inside of you. Your inner muscles wrapped around him, inviting him to keep going. With a shuddered breath Hawks slid one more finger inside, watching as both his fingers were disappearing into you.

You were watching him as he stared at your pussy, swallowing his fingers. His rhythm at first was slow, in and out. But you didn’t want to be slow , not now at least.

“Faster please.” Gold eyes flicked back towards your face, pupils blown at your request. Who would Hawks be if he didn’t grant you your wishes. “Oh fuck-” His speed quicked, like you had asked. His thumb was playing with your swollen clit with each thrust of his fingers. 

The sensation had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. The sounds of your slick and the moans he pulled out of you on top of his primal growls above you were too much.

“Come on dove,” You hadn’t even realized that the man above you leaned down, his sinful mouth pressed against ear. “Cum for me.” He growled out the last part of his sentence. You arched as a wave of white heat soared through your veins. 

“That’s a good girl.” His fingers slowed their pace, riding you through your orgasm. “God you are so fucking enchanting.” Your lower half jumped with every slow thrust, over stimulated by his touch. Opening your eyes, his golden eyes were all you saw. You were sure your eyes reflected his own, covered by pure lust and admiration. 

Hawks pulled his digits out of you when you caught your breath again. You moaned at the loss of him filling you. Raising your hands you carded your finger through his hair, slightly tugging, causing the man that had your full attention to close his eyes. A shuddered breath fell from his lips as you continued to tug. 

“Fuck baby.” He leaned down again, his mouth hot on yours as his tongue danced with yours. You moaned against him as he slid his body in between your legs. You felt him rut against you, his bulge pressing against your overly sensitive clit. 

You bucked against him, feeling yourself get worked up again. It was like you were denied water your whole life, and Hawks; Hawks was the oasis that you so desperately wanted to drink from. He continued to thrust against you, and you met each and everyone. Your nails racked against his back leaving marks in their wake as you did. 

“I’ll be sure to make sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow if you keep that up baby girl.” He growled against your lips. Tugging on his hair again he let out a hiss from between his teeth. He knew you were competitive and with how he had wrecked you, it was only fair you did the same.

“Bring it on bird boy.”

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ with one lost is the gain of someone greater

Word count › 5k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › anal fingering, light nipple play, rimming

(Words to know—

Baobei: baby, affectionate from a parent to child

Ge: older brother (doesn’t have to be related, can be romantic)

Di: little brother

Wangliang: demons, spirits, any malevolent creatures

Jiangshi: hopping vampire that sucks one soul out)

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

The soft sound of feet patter against the ground shook a woman awake as she saw her sun run up to her. Her son huffed, face stained with tears as he waited for her to say something. She only sighed as she got out of bed and guided him to the mirror on the small table.

She gently forced him down to a kneel, with her joining as well to be height level with his face. The boy stared straight at the mirror as his mother cleaned up his bruises, taking out any twigs in his hair as well.

This wasn’t the first time this happened. It always happened whenever the boy went out. Whenever he tried to gain his father’s approval.

“I’m pathetic compared to my siblings!” He suddenly blurted out as his mother cleaned up a slit in his lip.

She glared at him. “How can you say that about yourself?”

“He seems to think so! I don’t matter to him. I don’t matter to anyone!”

“You do matter, (Name). Emperor Chu is a very busy man. An important man. Emperor Chu gives you a life many other children dream of. Appreciate it.”

“Papa doesn’t care for me.”

“(Name). You know you must call the emperor by his title.”

“Why? I can call you mama.”

(Name)’s mother sighed as she gently pulled his hair out of the ponytail, allowing it to stay out. She continued to fix his hanfu, making sure it fit his more frail body. He had always been sick. He knew that. The hanfu felt a bit big on him. His sickness only caused him to be stunted in growth compared to other boys.

The shoulders of the hanfu had to be bunched up to not fall off. But his sickness was no shock.

How could it be when his mother herself was known to be weak as a child. She couldn’t play like the other children. Confined to her room as she coughed up blood. It was a miracle she lived so long, even having a baby boy. But it only meant he received her illness.

“Emperor Chu loves you. It may not show but Emperor Chu doesn’t have favorites—loving all of you equally, like a emperor must.”

“But he doesn’t love you equally like his wife.”

“Please, (Name), do not refer to His royal highness so casually. If you get tired of saying Emperor Chu so much, call him by his other titles. I want you to be safe.”

“He’s my Papa.”

“He’s an Emperor first. My Baobei, please, for me.” Her dark hair framed her pale skin beautifully. It was no wonder Emperor Chu chose her as a consort. Such a beautiful woman could only belong to a powerful man. (Name) didn’t understand this well at the age of ten but he knew deep down that his mother wasn’t as lucky as the maids thought she was.

(Name) simply nodded. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, it’s important to practice formal speech, Baobei.”

(Name) simply nodded. He didn’t like his life at all. Staying indoors. Being forced to watch his siblings be doted on by his father while he only sends a maid to give him gifts. It wasn’t like the illness was contagious. Many people came near him or touched him and nothing happened to them months later.

This silly illness. It was ruining his life.

ꕥ

“Seventh Prince! Consort Yuying has requested you. Please, get him dress.” A guard said outside his door. The maid in (Name)’s room, Xiulan, got up from her seat on the floor and began to pull out his clothes.

(Name) sat up from his bed, glancing out at the opened doors to the mini courtyard that belonged to him and his mother. Consorts usually got their own sections of the palace. Since his mother was the ninth consort, many expected she’d get the leftovers but her being the prettiest, they had earned the more fancied one. The first consort was the emperor’s wife.

So she wasn’t even truly a consort anymore. She was an empress.

Xiulan motioned for him to get up as she removed his sleepwear, slipping on his hanfu and shoes. He bent down a little for the short woman to pull his long hair up into a bun. No one ever cut their hair. It was the hair from their parents. They shouldn’t disrespect it. Shaving was mostly fine. But (Name) didn’t grow much on his face.

His illness, is what his doctor had said.

“Seventh Prince is ready.” Xiulan stated as she opened the sliding door on their right. The guard there simply nodded and bowed in respect to (Name). The lower class referred to any child of the emperor in terms of when they were born.

(Name) was the seventh son, so he was named the Seventh Prince. He was also the last child. The youngest. It didn’t help that he was also terribly sick most of his nights so almost everyone babied him to an annoying degree.

When he was younger, it bothered him but now, as he felt weaker by the day, it made sense. He could hardly walk far without needing to stop.

He was weak. He needed every ounce of protection they gave him. But he was only sixteen.

His mother…

She wasn’t doing good.

The room she was in was close to the Emperor. It was so he could visit her with ease. She was bedridden most of the time, asleep as her health deteriorated. (Name) didn’t visit her much. He knew it wasn’t good to do such a thing to do her.

She needed to see her only son but he was scared.

To be confronted with the reality that she’s dying.

That he’s dying, too.

“She’s inside, Seventh Prince. I’ll be waiting here.” The guard said, holding his staff close to him. (Name) nodded as he walked inside the room, for the first time in maybe months.

There was his mother, her hair thinning. It was no longer shiny and thick. It was almost breaking off. Her normally beautiful sharp cheek bones looked scary with her skinnier face. She was dying.

(Name) pushed through any sight of distress and walked over to kneel down beside her body. The maids in the room made sure to give a bit of space for him, but hovered around just in case her health took a turn for the worst.

“Baobei…” Yuying sighed, tears streaming down her face. She reached one frail hand up to touch his face, cupping his chubby cheek. A small laugh left her lips. She had missed this. His cute cheeks that puffed out whenever he pouted or stuffed his mouth.

Pouty lips that were turning too pale for her liking. Yuying grunted as she moved to sit up, much to the maid’s dismay. (Name) tried to make her stay down but she somehow pushed him off. Whatever strength she had was still there. She was supposed to be only thirty-five but she looked fifty.

“Baobei, I failed you.”

“No. No. Mama, I failed you. I got so scared to see you. I didn’t want to see you like this but that was so selfish of me. Please, forgive me.” He cried, leaning his head on her shoulder.

Yuying reached a hand into his hair and pulled out his bun, allowing his long black hair to fall out. (Name) pulled away and looked at her in confusion. He watched as she played around with it, a smile on her lips.

“I missed your hair. It was healthier than mines.”

“Mama…”

“Baobei, I don’t have much time left. They’re taking so much from me and I couldn’t stop them. What I have…” Yuying coughed, blood splattered on (Name)’s face but he was too shocked to react.

“No, the doctor said you had a few years left. Please, please. Don’t…”

“Baobei, listen to me. This isn’t a normal Illness. We aren’t sick.”

“What are you talking about Mama?”

Yuying glanced around, as if she was scared someone was watching.

“I’ve called a shaman to help you. He’s been here the entire time, watching you. He told me he’s ready for the attack.”

“Mama, you’re not making sense. Let’s lay down…”

“Baobei!” She yelled, a look of anger in her eyes. “Once I lay down I’m gone. Let me tell you this so you don’t face this fate. My mother came from the Xians. It gave me the ability to see the future with eternal beauty. This caught the attention of many Wangliang.”

“Wangliang…? But they don’t exist. Xians aren’t real. No one could be immortal.”

“Xians don’t just have immortality. But this doesn’t matter, what matters is that your illness is because a Wangliang is feeding off of you like a parasite. And it’s not just one. It’s why you have been getting weaker much faster than I did when I was younger.”

(Name) felt dizzy. He didn’t understand. His mother seemed to know from his face as she sighed.

“Baobei… I have a notebook that’s tucked somewhere in your room. Find it, it’ll give you more insight. But just know, your ability is something stronger than mines. Mines could only grant me ten seconds into the future. Your ability, it seems to deal with your heart.”

“Mama…. Why are you speaking as if today is your last..?”

“It is, Baobei. It’s too late to save me.”

“No. No! This shaman you spoke of, why can’t he save you?!” (Name) yelled, gripping at his mother’s hanfu. She simply smiled at him, cradling his face as she leaned in to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“There’s only so much you can do for someone as old and frail as me. I used my ability for wrong reasons. I deserve my fate.” She pushed back a lock of hair to place behind his ear. “I’m blessed to say my goodbyes.”

Yuying moved to lay back down on her bed as she smiled up at her son. “I love you, Baobei.”

Then her eyes were closed.

(Name) screamed out as he shook his mother, hoping she would awaken. The maids in the room called out for the doctor, one trying to pull (Name) away from his mother’s corpse but was swiftly pushed away. He cried out in pain, a cry that was never heard from the boy ever in his life.

“Mama! Mama, please!” He chanted, rocking her body back and forth. People rushed into the room but (Name) couldn’t lay them any mind. His mother was gone. His mother, his only true parent was gone.

He was all alone.

Strong arms gripped him tightly and pulled him away from the body, easily subduing him. (Name) weakly fought against the man’s hold but could only whimper out for his mother to wake up. The one day.

The one day he went to see her and she was gone.

The man holding (Name) ended up being Emperor Chu and the Eldest Prince, Laohu who took over once his father had to check the body. (Name) cried in his brother’s arm, holding him close. Despite them having different mothers, they were close.

His twelve siblings all loved him well. Emperor Chu had seven boys and five girls. A good luck that many praised him for. Laohu was much older than most of the siblings. Close to his late twenties by now. He acted as (Name)’s father at this point as Emperor Chu couldn’t bother to be one.

“Ge… Ge!!” (Name) cried, wishing he had died with his mother. He couldn’t continue like this. Not without his rock.

“Di, can you stand?” Laohu muttered.

(Name) didn’t answer. Laohu nodded towards one his other brothers, the Sixth Prince, and motioned for him to help carry him to his room. Sixth Prince, Donghai, helped Laohu carry their younger brother to his room.

The death of a consort, no matter how little she mattered to the emperor, was a devastating loss. Everything stopped as they were allowed to mourn. And it was warranted for Yuying. She wasn’t just a consort.

She was someone to the lower class people before Emperor Chu found her.

She was a light of hope in their dark days.

And now she was gone.

(Name) was never the same after. And neither was his family.

ꕥ

“Di, please, you’ve been through here a thousands times before. You should’ve found it by now if it was truly here,” Donghai said, watching as (Name) once again turned every pillow and blanket to find the notebook his mother had once mentioned.

(Name) glanced at his brother, “Ge, you don’t understand! She said it’d be here for me. She mentioned a shaman!”

“Shamans aren’t people you should trust, Di. Please, you’re already getting more frail,” Donghai grasped his brother’s hand, (Name)’s thin hands looked small against his.

(Name) knew everyone was anxious for him. His mother died earlier than the doctor had estimated. Everyone walked on eggshells, hoping to not awaken to the news that they lost him too. It had been only three years, (Name) was nineteen. But it still felt like yesterday some days.

Donghai was the one worried the most. He was the sixth son but eleventh child. They were only two years apart in age. He had a relationship to (Name) that the other brothers didn’t have.

Laohu and Donghai had a love for him that rivaled his mother sometimes.

The other four brothers didn’t speak much to (Name) but the rare times they did, they cared deeply for him. But they focused more on their positions in the military. Two were twins and one shared the same mother as Laohu. Only four years younger than him. The last one, the Second Prince shared a mother with the Eldest Princess.

She was the first child. But she was never home, having married off to a man in a neighboring state. But whenever Laohu visited, he always told (Name) she was happy.

“I will be fine… but thank you for worrying.” (Name) smiled.

Donghai didn’t looked convinced but nodded.

“Sixth Prince! Emperor Chu has requested you to the throne room!”

“I will see you at dinner.”

“Bye, Ge.”

(Name) waited for Donghai to leave before he continued his search for his mother’s notebook. He wished she had told him where. But all he had to go with is that it should’ve be hidden that no maid could come across it while cleaning.

Xiulan wasn’t going to enjoy having to clean his room after this mess he was making. But he couldn’t worry about that. His mother came first.

He was feeling weaker by the minute and if this notebook could save him, he’d find it. The sliding door open, pausing his search as he looked over to see Consort Yue Lin. She was Laohu’s mother.

(Name) quickly bowed, showing respect to her. The second consort. She was very important to the emperor behind his wife. Many wondered if it was because his wife only gave him a daughter with no sons. It certainly made her seem pathetic in terms of Consort Yue Lin.

“(Name), if I may call you that, how are you feeling?” Yue Lin kneeled down next to (Name), her brown hair pulled into an intricate braid with flower pins holding them place. She certainly dressed as a queen.

“I have had better days, Consort Yue Lin.”

“I lost my mother quite young as well. Not as tragic as you but I know your pain. Laohu loves you. Very much. I think he loves you more than me,” she laughed. “Know that he is someone to talk to. He has reached his thirties. He’s wise. A… a father figure.”

(Name) was shocked that Yue Lin acknowledge the poor parenting skills of an emperor. But she want wrong. Laohu was a father to him. Not Emperor Chu.

“The Shaman…”

(Name) stared at her in fear.

She simply grinned. “I saw him once. He’s hidden himself as a knight very well. But he’s around here. He’s one of the knights that guards the entrance to the gate leading to the forest. However, if anyone told you, I never knew.”

“Yes, of course!”

“As for the notebook, floor.”

“Floor…?”

“Floor.” With a curt nod, she rose up and walked out of the room, subtly pointing at a spot near the closet. The door closed behind her as (Name) rushed over the the closet door and felt around on the ground.

He gasped when one felt loose. With ease, he pulled off one of the floor board to see the notebook underneath. He quickly grabbed it and placed the board back into its spot.

He’d give an excuse to why one of the floor boards were broken. What mattered now was that he got what he had been looking for.

The notebook was mainly a diary. Laying down a timeline of Yuying’s time before she was found at age eighteen by Emperor Chu to become his last consort. By the next year, she was pregnant with him.

She was happy. Stating how much Emperor Chu loved her despite him being near 40s when he impregnated her. It didn’t shock (Name). He knew his father was creepy when choosing the woman he wanted. Past emperors choose their women the first year he was given the title. But Emperor Chu waited.

He waited for each beautiful woman to be ready for marriage and to bear children.

It give him twelve so many didn’t go against him, even if they wondered what he could’ve truly had in common with such a young bride.

“Baobei.”

That voice.

(Name) closed the notebook, right was he was about to reach his mother’s words on the so called ‘Wangliang’. He placed the notebook on the ground and followed the sound of his mother into the forest near his courtyard. (Name) struggled to jump over the fence but was finally able to when something grabbed him.

His head was hurting but his mother’s voice took over. Calling to him. The snow crunched beneath his bare feet as he walked over to wherever his mother was. He could feel eyes on him. Watching him as he walked to his death.

Grief was a powerful thing.

It clouded one’s judgement. They couldn’t think straight.

The trance he was in was gone once he reached the middle of the forest, dressed in a light hanfu, not made for the cold weather. He wrapped his arms around himself as he looked around. The night sky made the usually calm forest seem scary.

Only the moonlight was his light. It shined down on him, as if mocking him for being so foolish. The crunching of snow near him shock him as he turned around erratically, looking to see who was coming close to him.

“Baobei… come to mama.”

(Name) watched in horror as something tall and imposing walked from it’s hiding spot. It was lankey and tall, long limbs that no human could ever have. A white face with dark black eyes, a large sinister smile. Blood was coated on it’s lip as it bent down slightly to level itself with (Name).

“Baobei.” It said in his mother’s voice.

(Name) felt his knees collapse beneath him. He dropped to the floor, staring up at the unknown beast. This was a Wangliang…? It began to laugh, in a voice that belonged to a multitude of people.

It’s jaw unhinged as a long tongue slithered out, reaching over to caress (Name)’s face. He felt himself blank at the gross tongue touching him. Was this how he died?

Donghai… Laohu…

His mother.

He didn’t even get to see the shaman.

(Name) closed his eyes tightly as the Wangliang’s tongue tightened around his throat, leaning down with it’s wide jaw to swallow him whole when a shriek was heard.

The Wangliang cried out with it’s tongue but clean off. Black blood splattered across (Name)’s face, sending him into a quick shocking memory of his mother doing the same on her death bed. He could only stay still on the floor as whoever it was, killed the beast in front of him.

It was dressed in his people’s knight uniform. He swung around a Guandao with ease. A long staff with a sharp curved blade at the end. The Wangliang screamed as it tried to fight back only to easily be killed with a slice at it’s neck.

The head fell down not too far away from (Name) as black blood sprayed out of the corpse, covering the knight’s face and body. But he didn’t seem phased. He only wiped it away with his hanfu and muttered a quick prayer before sprinting over to (Name).

“Seventh Prince! Apologies for being late. I did not notice when you left.”

The knight kneeled down to grab (Name) only for (Name) to jump into his arms. He paused for a moment, wondering if there was something wrong only to see that (Name)’s body trembled in his arms.

“Are you… Are you the shaman Mama was speaking about?”

“Yes. Consort Yuying paid me to protect you. If she caught the Jiangshi before it fully killed you, she thought you will survive. But it isn’t just the jiangshi killing you.”

“I don’t understand.”

The shaman simply hummed. “I do not expect you to understand, Seventh Prince. You do not need to worry much about what is happening. What matters is that you trust me,” he wrapped one arm around (Name)’s waist.

(Name) pulled away from his neck and stared at him, wanting to get a good look at who this man was. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail, giving a clear look at his facial features. Monolids with medium size lips. A prominent nose that was actually beautiful to (Name).

He knew others would possibly view the man as ugly but he couldn’t help the flutter in his heart.

“Do you trust me?” The man asked.

“Your name?”

“… Fa Yichen.”

“That doesn’t seem like you’re real name.”

“It is not. But when you prove yourself to me, I will tell you,” Yichen said, a faint smile on his lips. It looked off for someone to be smiling while their face was splotches of blood but (Name) supposed it wasn’t human blood.

“I’ll call you Ge.”

“I do not deserve such title. Call me Yichen.”

(Name) pouted but nodded. Yichen stood up, holding (Name) in his arms with ease. The man was tall, having to possibly be 6’4 or maybe even 6’6. (Name) wasn’t sure. All he knew for sure was that Yichen had an intimidating stature.

Muscular all around. He put (Name)’s military brothers to shame. (Name) wrapped his arms around his neck, allowing him to carry him back to the palace. His feet were dirty with snow. But he couldn’t feel it well due to the cold.

He just wanted to warm up.

Once they reached (Name)’s room, Yichen placed him down on the bed and immediately went to leave.

“Ge!”

Yichen turned back to face him, “Yichen. I do not deserve such a kind title.”

(Name) grinned. “Sorry, I will not do it again.”

He will do it again.

“Is there anything you need? I can call Miss Xiulan to come clean you.”

“I want you to. We can get to know each other!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“I’m sorry.”

“How can I trust you if you won’t do a simple task?”

Yichen’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance before grunting. “I’ll start the bath.”

(Name) smirked to himself. Perhaps he could get Yichen into the bath with him. Hey, it might been a bit weird to try and get some random man into a bath with him but he wasn’t exactly thinking.

His first time alone with a very beautiful man.

“Seventh Prince, the bath is ready.”

(Name) walked over to the connected bathroom and began to strip out of his dirty clothes. He wasn’t sure how he could explain the blood on them. Maybe that it was paint.

His clothes pooled on the floor around his feet as he glanced over to see if Yichen was watching him. The shaman was looking away with a light blush on his cheeks. (Name) grinned. He wasn’t exactly doing anything with that.

He was just used to being naked in front of maybe people so he forgot not everyone would be comfortable with it. “Apologies. I was raised to not be bothered by nudity.”

“It is no issue. I’ll leave you to your bath.”

“No!”

Yichen stopped himself from leaving.

“Can you wash me? Xiulan does most of the work, I cannot suddenly do it alone.” (Name) said, walking over to the bath as he slipped in.

Once Yichen counted to ten in his head, he turned around to see (Name) fully covered by the water. (Name) grinned as he watched Yichen fumble around looking for the soap. It was different from Xiulan who moved with grace, sliding the soap all over him with ease and the muscle memory.

Yichen was slow. As if he was scared that if he went too fast, he’d tear (Name) apart. It wasn’t an unfounded fear. (Name) was small in every way compared to Yichen. Especially with their sizes.

Yichen’s hand almost covered (Name)’s entire back. And the brief moment they stood close together, (Name)’s head only reached his shoulder. But it was honestly the perfect height for him to just rest his head there if they hugged.

“Ge…”

“Yichen.”

“Why was my mother too far gone?”

“Consort Yuying had been losing her life force to the Jiangshi since birth. They went after her due to her soul being more powerful than any ordinary human.” Yichen reached down to trace (Name)’s chest, the area where his heart was.

“Jiangshi loves souls. The more powerful, the more they want it. It is more of an unfortunate situation that her parents did not know of the Wangliangs that roam the earth.”

“If they had know…”

“Consort Yuying could have lived a fruitful life. But that is the past, we cannot change what has been done. I promised your mother that she could pass with me caring for you.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew…”

“She was fearful that she’d scare you. That it would have sent you straight into a Jiangshi’s awaiting mouth.”

(Name) hummed as he leaned back into the touch of Yichen. Yichen’s hand that held the rag roamed his body, not touching his legs or anything lower than his stomach. (Name) bit his lip, reaching up to grasp the hand resting on the tub.

Yichen hesitated for a moment before continuing, “do you want to wash your hair?”

“Another time. It’s a process.”

(Name) glanced down at his body, blushing at his hard nipples. Yichen seemed to not notice, really focused on bathing (Name) as if it was his job. It was a bit of a disappointment from his dream but he knew he had a weird imagination.

“Seventh Prince…”

“Yes?”

“I must tell you, sex is heavily influenced in your mother’s kind. The Xians.”

“Those immortal humans?”

“The original Xians were immortal, yes. But your mother’s family was a more muted version of them. You don’t live forever. But to awaken the power at first, a connection to the body is needed.”

“A connection?”

“Please, tell me whenever you are uncomfortable.”

“Yichen?”

A gasp left (Name)’s lips when he felt a tug at his nipples. He arched his back, his head resting on Yichen’s shoulder as he pulled at both nipples. Yichen’s much larger hands cupped his chest entirely. It sent a shiver down his spine.

How could he hands look against other parts of his body…?

“Stimulation is a great way to connect to one’s body. It is the fastest way other than meditation. Next time we can do meditation.”

(Name) did not want to do medication next time.

Yichen’s fingers rolled (Name)’s nipples around, watching every reaction the Prince gave him. In any other circumstance, he would’ve told his client to do it themself.

But he knew (Name). Ever since they were babies.

And he wouldn’t lie that he was physically attracted to him. There was no way he’d get another chance like this. (Name)’s soft whimpering filled in the room as one of Yichen’s hand moved downwards to grip his ass.

The squeak (Name) released, one that reminded him of a cute hamster, was music to Yichen’s ears. Yichen probed at (Name)’s hole, enjoying the sounds from (Name)’s lips.

“I’ll need to take you out of the bath so I can properly stimulate you.”

“Please…”

Yichen easily picked up (Name) and held him close as walked over to the bedroom. He checked to make sure the sliding doors were closed from the courtyard so no cool air came in. With that, he laid down on the floor, keeping (Name) on top of him.

“Relax and let me take care of everything,” Yichen pulled him up to bring his asshole near his lips. It was eye opening to feel something foreign touch his ass.

(Name) gripped at the floor beneath him as he cried out in pleasure as Yichen thrusted his tongue inside. He was shocked at the fact something could fit inside of him. Yichen’s grip on his thighs were tight, holding him close to his body as he explored his asshole.

He felt close. His cock twitching, ready to release. (Name) flinched when he felt something probe at his asshole, a finger this time. He blushed, wondering how Yichen’s finger would feel deep inside. One finger slowly pushed in as he pulled his tongue away.

His one finger was thick, it felt like two. (Name)’s body twitched as he cried out, feeling the finger drag against his warm walls. He clenched around the finger before feeling himself cum. Much to his disappointment, Yichen pulled his finger out and maneuvered (Name) to lay down on his bed.

“Do you feel differently?”

“I feel tired…” (Name) sighed. “But something feels… light…”

“Good. In the morning, we will talk more.” He moved to get up.

“Ge, don’t leave…”

“I—”

“Di! Where are….”

(Name) and Yichen stared at the door showing a shocked Donghai. Donghai glanced at the wet naked body of his younger brother and the strange man’s clothing that had indents of water.

Oh, he was about to kill this man.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

I went off the deep end. I wanted to do some medieval Chinese fantasy and I went too far…

Yichen debut! He’ll be coming back in the far future after I do some requests first! Oikawa fic tomorrow!!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo

Number 1 fan: @rainnyydaysworld

Request by: @kazuhazuuu hope it exceeds your expectations! <3

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

5/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 7.4k (this was a bitch to edit just so you know!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

“And Mommy, I went to the park, we played on the swings. I went so high. Not even Mama could grab me.” Emma gestured with her hands somewhere beyond the camera. You smiled at the expression on her face as she described to you what her day was like. You were just returning home from the gym when you received a Facetime call from Natasha. You quickly answered it thinking it was an emergency. Nope. It was just Emma missing you. You could tell that time apart tore through her as the five-year-old tried to understand the current family dynamics. Not that it was easy for you to understand. Still, you listened to her tell stories just like she always did. Slightly out of breath and a lot of emotion. She held the phone in her shaky hands as she bounced around her bed. You’re not sure you could get her to sit down if you tried.

“You didn’t go that high,” Ryan’s ‘know-it-all’ tone surprised you. It was classic sibling bickering. Only this time you had a front-row seat. You could see Emma hold the camera in place as she frowned over at her brother.

“How do you know? You were over on the slides.” Emma said.

“I could still see,” Ryan climbed onto the bed to bounce with his sister. You could see his hair flopping in a corner of the frame. You wish they would just set you up somewhere you could see. Not that either of them was professional on the proper lighting and angles. All you could see was bouncing and their breathless bickering. Until there was a knock at the door, Emma bounced onto her bottom to look innocently at whoever interrupted their playtime.

“Okay, you two, time for bed,” Natasha said. She held onto the doorknob as she watched them deflate.

“We are still talking to Mommy,” Emma pouted. “Can we have just five more minutes?”

“Oh, you said that ten minutes ago.” Natasha matched her pout. “Say goodnight to Mommy.”

“Goodnight Mommy,” Emma said. She passed the phone to Ryan before stumping out of his bedroom and into her own. She was stopped in her tracks by Natasha as she scooped the little girl into her arms. She kissed along her cheeks, and forehead, before raising her a bit higher to press kisses against her belly. Emma’s laughter filled the room as Ryan watched them with his smile. You couldn’t help but feel that familiar loneliness resurfacing. You wanted to be there with them. You belong there with them.

“Mommy, are you coming to my game on Wednesday?” Ryan spoke over the giggles coming from Emma. They seemed to be further away now. Natasha was carrying her to her bedroom.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You promised. A promise you were ensuring you would keep.

“If we win, can we get ice cream?” Ryan smiled hopefully.

“I will get you three scoops no matter if you win or not.” You replied. At his smile, you felt a bit better. You wouldn’t let him down this time. There was silence as you both enjoyed each other’s virtual company. He crawled under the covers, somehow keeping the phone in his hold before he fixed the camera to show his face again. “Are you all warm and cozy?”

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded. He paused before speaking again. “I want you to come to stay with us again, Mommy. Then we could have another sleepover. Like we had in Florida.”

“I’d like that so much, Ryan.” You said sincerely. “I knew you liked those sleepovers.”

“Of course,” Ryan shrugged. “I like it when everyone is happy. It’s always fun.” He said in a way that made him seem so much older. He sounded bigger than his seven years of life. He was always worrying about everyone else’s feelings.

Natasha chose that moment to enter his room again. She stood by the doorway with her arms folded against her chest. She allowed Ryan to have his moment with you. As the oldest child, it was easy for him to step into the background and let Emma have her moments. You both were always reminding him that his feelings and interests mattered too.

Turns out neither of you had anything to say. He held the phone, clearly stalling his bedtime so that he could get a few more moments with you. Finally, Natasha intervened. You could tell she secretly wanted to talk with you too.

“Okay, tell Mommy goodnight,” Natasha instructed. She ambled over to his bed to hold out her hand.

“Goodnight, Mommy,” Ryan said lowly. He reluctantly passed the phone to Natasha before sliding further under the covers. He waited for his kiss goodnight before turning towards the wall. You could see Natasha turn off his bedroom light and close the door. She shuffled down the hallway, wisps of her hair flying freely in her messy bun, as she walked towards her bedroom. She settled onto her bed, crossing her legs before looking down at the camera.

“Hey you,” You smile. The lighting in the bedroom cast a warm glow against her skin. Her reading glasses sit perched on the top of her head as she leans back against the headboard. She doesn’t need them all the time but you figure she’s had a long day. She smiles lazily into the camera before returning your greeting. You mirror her position on the other side of town.

“Hi back,” She smiles.

“Do you need to be tucked in too?” You joke and she snorts.

“I haven’t needed to be tucked in in a long time, Romanoff,” The way she uses the last name for you causes your heart to flutter. If that were possible. Her voice is a bit raspier. A bit huskier. You scan her face and the top of her shoulders. She’s wearing a thin purple tank top. You can see the way her skin flushes at your heated gaze.

“So, about the no-sex thing?” You try. She raises a brow for you to continue. “Did that include phone sex?”

“Hmm?” Natasha pretends to take a moment to think.

“Because I think I would be able to stay awake for that,” You quip.

“Oh yeah?” Natasha asks. She moves to grab a pillow from your forgotten side of the bed. She props the phone up, fluffing the pillow for the correct angle, before laying on her side. “What did you have in mind?” The ball is in your court. She’s certainly entertaining you and your horniness. She props herself up on her elbow, cradling her head with her hand, as she looks at you expectantly.

“I think a nip slip wouldn’t be so bad,” You suggest. You’re not serious. Not 100% at least. It’s not like you haven’t had phone sex before. Back when she would have long missions, or you would be away on a business trip, you had taken to sending each other racy texts or faceless nudes. It’s how you kept things alive and “spicy”. Not that you ever needed it.

“You’re always so obsessed with my breasts,” Natasha comments. She doesn’t care all that much. She likes the attention. From you and only you.

“They’re nice breasts,” You shrug.

“What do I get out of this?” Natasha decides she’ll continue to play along. This is the least sexy amount of flirting you’ve done but it still manages to get a rise out of you. You like it this way. There’s no expectation to be something you’re not. There’s no expectation to get back to a flame that has long died down. At least for the time being. You’d rather not think about what that means.

“Um,” You bring your left hand to your chin. You pretend to think before grinning mischievously. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Natasha laughs this time. She shakes her head before pulling at the strap of her top.

“You have yourself a deal,” Natasha says. She fingers along the strap, pulling it down from her arm teasingly. She bites her lip, watching the way your pupils dilate, as she finally removes the side. She sits up on her bottom. The anticipation is killing you as you wait for her to show you what you’ve been waiting for. Natasha pushes the other strap from her shoulder. She rolls her eyes as you settle further back into the pillows. Typical. Making her go first. Natasha raises her hands to push the shirt down her abdomen. More skin is exposed until you can see the top of her breasts. God, you wish she wouldn’t tease you.

The pink of her nipples takes you by surprise just before the screen goes black. You let out an audible sound of shock as you rise from the pillows. You tap the screen of your phone to see if you still have half a battery. Natasha’s phone has died. You thumb through the screen of your phone to get back to her name only for it to show up unavailable. You sigh in frustration. Maybe a shower will cool you off. You drop your phone onto the bed with a promise to text her back when you’re out. You needed to cool off.

The steam from the shower doesn’t seem to help you. You scrub your skin, relieving yourself of the day’s grime, as you think about Natasha. You miss her. You want her next to you. Not only for sex. It’s never been just sex for you. You want to feel her breathing against the back of your neck when she decides to be the big spoon. You want her too warm limbs pressed against your calves. You want her steady hand resting in the valley between your breasts. You want Natasha.

You get out of the shower feeling refreshed. You brush your teeth. The feeling of loneliness fills you once again. No one is here to lie with you. There’s no one here to wake up to. No one to keep the darkness in your mind away. You’re here all alone and you can’t help but think that you deserve it. You’re the culprit after all. You’re the one that tore apart your family. You’re the one that pushed everyone away in exchange for work. Everything comes down to you.

As you finish your skincare routine, you can’t help but wonder if things will change. Would you change? Your first counseling session is tomorrow and you want more than anything to work things out. Natasha is too great of a woman to pass up. She’s too much of your heart for you to throw away. Like you’ve been doing. You shut off your bathroom light and crawl back under the covers of your bed. It’s much too big to have for yourself.

You fumble around for the phone and tap the screen alive. There are four messages from Natasha. You swipe the unlock screen, using FACE ID to open it, as you tap the first message. “Sorry my phone died,” The message reads with an attachment.

It’s a series of pictures. The anticipation kills you as you wait for the HD versions to load. Your eyes almost pop out of your head as Natasha poses for the camera. Damn. If she ever wanted to quit her day job as a spy to become a photographer you would support her decision one thousand percent. Okay, you’re being a bit dramatic but these are good.

She’s on her side, in the same position as before, only this time she’s naked save for her panties. They’re a thin bit of silk with lace trim in the color black. You take in the whole picture. The way her left leg is bent just slightly, her left arm stretched across her breasts, as she lies faceless in the picture. She’s not showing anything but to you it is everything. Damn indeed.

You immediately swipe to the next wanting to see the other photos. This one is a bit more personal. Her lips are the highlight of this one. She’s closer to the camera, her mouth slightly open, as her tongue peeks from behind her perfectly white teeth. Only Natasha could make this pose sexy. She manages to make everything sexy. Your eyes trail down to find the tops of her breasts hidden once again as she poses.

You’re extremely thankful that while these are sexy, Natasha trusts you enough to send them to you. You know she’s put herself in a vulnerable position. She’s throwing herself out there and you can’t help but feel elated. The next picture makes you audibly gasp. The camera is positioned further down. Her nipple stands rosy and hard as she pinches it between her index finger and thumb. Her wrist lies against the breast cupping it as she balances the phone with the other hand. In the background, you can see the look of pleasure on her face. She’s sensitive. Her breasts have always been sensitive. Even to her touch.

You don’t realize your hand has traveled to the waistband of your underwear until you feel your wetness at the tip of your fingers. You miss her. You need her. You open your legs wider, as you skirt past your clit to dip your fingers inside your opening. There’s no need to get ready. She should be here right now. You imagine the way she would feel inside of you. You imagine the curl of your fingers is hers. You imagine that morning at the hotel and how she’d taken initiative.

Damn Natasha and her sexy pictures. You know she’s not expecting pictures back but you feel inclined to send them. You push the sports bra over your breast, balancing the phone in one hand, as you arch your back just so. You quickly snap the picture before sending another one showcasing the bump of your hand inside of your panties. You’re not sure you can wait for her to reply as you push another finger inside of yourself. You pump at an increasingly fast pace as you imagine it’s Natasha here in bed with you. You clench hard around your fingers at the thought of her body pressed against yours.

There’s a vibration from your phone just as you reach that spongey spot inside of yourself. You raise the phone to look through narrowed eyes. She’s calling again. You move a shaky thumb to the green phone button to answer it.

“Nat,” You whimper.

“You couldn’t wait for the phone to charge?” She says in a light scold. You shake your head no.

“Well, I want you to slow down.” Natasha begins. You whimper again at her voice as she husks. “Shh, I want to come with you.” She purrs. This prompts a gush of wetness as you force yourself to slow down. It’s rare for Natasha to take over in the bedroom and when she does it’s phenomenal. You don’t want to think about how long it’s been since you’ve truly been intimate. All you can think about is the chase of your current orgasm.

“Want you,” You whine.

“I know,” Natasha breathes. “Want you too.” Natasha fumbles with the camera as she flips onto her stomach. She props the phone up on the side of her again and for a second your fingers are still inside of you as you watch her. She’s naked this time as the sheets cover her from the waist down. You wish so badly that she would let it slip away. You watch as her left hand slips under the covers. She arches her back with her face pressed into the pillow.

She’s not. She won’t. She is.

You try to keep your eyes open as the moment overtakes you. Natasha’s lips fall open as she slides her fingers into herself. You can see the subtle movements of her hand under the covers and the outline of her perfectly rounded bottom. She lets out a choked noise as she adjusts to the fullness of her fingers.

“Nat, open your eyes,” You beg. Her thick lashes flutter open and you’re thrown by how dark her eyes are at the moment.

“I’m ‘supposed to be in charge.” She sputters as she ruts against her fingers.

“You’re doing such a good job of that, baby.” You encourage. “Tell me what you want me to do,” You say. Her brows knit together as she attempts to form words.

“I want to see you too,” She manages. You quickly push your panties from your body, moaning at the loss of your fingers, as you toss your pillows to the side. You prop up the phone to show off your body.

“G-good,” Natasha says.

“Now what?” You ask.

“I’m not gonna last,” Natasha swallows. “I want you to push inside of yourself. Gently.” You do as told. It’s much easier this time around. “Wanna hear you.” She mentions. She begins to rock her hips as she rides her fingers. You don’t hold back as you match her pace. The sight in front of you is too much as you watch Natasha hump against the covers. She doesn’t swallow her moans, though conscious of little ears, as she breathes. “Can’t wait to have you inside me.” She babbles. “Been so long.” She continues. “How does it feel, Zaya?” She questions as you pump your fingers faster. You can feel your hips jump at the thought of being inside Natasha again. “Zaya,” it’s such a sweet nickname despite how “dirty” you’re being. You manage to look at the phone again. Feeling your walls clench around your fingers as you watch Natasha rock against herself.

“So good,” You moan.

“When we fuck, I want you to use the big one,” Natasha confesses. You immediately know what she’s talking about. The strap-on. “Want to feel it inside me for a week.” Natasha arches her back more as her movements become frantic. Her hair is held by the tie draped over her shoulders and the pillow as she moves. “Want you to fill me.”

She still has it. Not that you expected her to just throw it away. She’s talking big game right now. Natasha has never been able to fully take that strap with ease no matter how much you’ve both tried. It’s bordering 8 inches. Not too big where it hurts but the girth is. The way it fills her. She likes the challenge and so do you.

“You still have it?” You ask through your thrusts.

“I tried to use it on myself,” She admits and you’re sure you’d died and gone to heaven. “Couldn’t come. Not without you.” She gasps. You can feel the arrival of your orgasm as Natasha tells you about her time with the strap. “Wouldn’t fit.” She shakes her head.

“Shit,” You whine as the last part of her statement sends you into your orgasm head first. You don’t know which way is up or down as your eyes snap shut. Your legs lock up and your back arches to an impossible level. From somewhere back down on earth you can hear Natasha’s moans as she climaxes. There’s a solid thirty seconds before the grip your body has on your fingers loosens. It’s another thirty seconds before you can relax your legs and pull out. When you finally do open your eyes to look over at the phone, Natasha’s green ones, are looking back at you lazily.

“Were you telling the truth?” You ask. She lifts her head giving you a satisfied smirk. “About the strap?”

“I was,” Natasha dares to blush. As confident as she is in bed, she always has that shyness that you find so endearing. “I tried but I couldn’t get it past the first three inches.” You believe her. It’s always taken some extensive foreplay and at least one orgasm for her to take it. Your mind flashes back to the time she insisted on riding you to the ends of the earth and back. Her form. Her stamina. Always a ten out of ten. Natasha can tell where your mind is going and she smirks again. “You need to sleep.”

“How can I when you’ve told me that?” You look at her incredulously.

“Well the faster you go to sleep, the quicker you get to see me.” She reminds you. The counseling session is in the morning. Right.

“You should have started with that,” You quip ignoring the nervousness of tomorrow. You watch as Natasha shifts, her hand still laid under her, and suddenly you’re made aware of something.

“Nat,” You ask and she hums in response as her eyes flutter closed. “Are you still inside of yourself?”

“Mhmm,” She nods sleepily. “Too sensitive to move,” She mumbles. Did she want to kill you?

“Baby, you need to get up and pee. Then we can sleep.” Her eyes snap open at your words. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep. I promise.” This time you mean it. Natasha nods again as she lifts her lower half to slowly remove her fingers from herself. She can’t help but whimper at the loss.

“You too,” She tilts her chin up. You rush to the bathroom to clean yourself up and wash your hands before returning to the bed. Natasha is much slower as she enters the frame again. She lies on her side again to face you.

“Y/n,” She says.

“Yes, Tasha?”

“Can you promise me something,” Her tone is more serious and she’s suddenly more awake than before. “If at any point you feel any of this is too much. You tell me.” Her gaze is piercing as she waits for you to respond. “Don’t let it fester. Don’t leave me in the dark. If we need to pause on whatever this is right now, we do. Don’t hide.”

You bite your lip. You hate that she even has to say this. Given your track record, you’re not surprised.

“I promise, baby.” You murmur. “I love you.” You say and Natasha smiles.

“I love you too.”

You can tell sleep is overtaking her now as she plugs the phone into its charger before leaving it against the pillow. You watch her for a bit longer than necessary as she slips into sleep so easily.

You wouldn’t mess this up. Not this time.

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

One thing Natasha didn’t expect from her family when informing them that she would be attending couples counseling with you - was their reluctance. She sat in her car, her sunglasses pushed to the top of her head, as she listened to them talk through the speakers of her car. Her iPhone remained in the cupholder as she traced her fingers over the edges. She could hear the sound of a pin drop with how silent the other occupants on the phone were.

“Hello?” She asked attempting to hide the annoyance in her tone. She glanced around the parking lot of the office building. She’s been here for the better part of ten minutes. After dropping off the children at school she headed here. Part of it was to keep herself in check and talk with her family without the worry of traffic. Now she’s glad she did. There’s no sign of you just yet and she hopes you find a parking spot in time. She would hate to be late.

“It’s pretty packed for a Monday morning,” She muses to herself. She could feel the tension deep in her bones as she tried to calm herself.

“Yes, Natasha, we are still here.” It was Melina’s soft voice that spoke first. Natasha glanced towards the touchscreen radio of her car. She was currently on a three-way call with the Russian members of her family. The names Mama and Yelena in both English and Russian sat unmoving across the screen. “We are just surprised is all.”

Natasha imagined her holding up the phone to an ear as Alexei tried to hold in his thoughts.

“Surprised? We’re fucking shocked is what we are,” Yelena breathes. She doesn’t hold back. While Natasha appreciated her sister’s bluntness she didn’t find it helpful at this moment.

“Yelena,” Melina scolded her. There was an eye roll somewhere in there.

“What?” Yelena’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Just last year, Natasha came crying to us. Utterly fucking destroyed might I add. Telling us that her marriage was over. Y/n left her with their two kids to do who knows what with god knows who. We were left to pick up the pieces and you mean to tell me all of that was for nothing?”

Natasha listens to her family bicker about her relationship. She understands what Yelena is saying. She might be right on this one. As surprising as it may be, she has her reasons. There’s still a part of her that believes your relationship could work. Sue her for holding on to that.

“Yeah, what she said,” Alexei finally joined it. “I don’t forget. I would like to break her puny little arms still.”

Natasha’s brow raised in amusement as a smirk tugged at her lips. She didn’t think your arms were puny.

“Alexei, you’re not going to break my wife’s arms,” Natasha says drily.

“Wife?” Yelena comments at the same time that Melina scolds her husband in the background. “I can’t believe this.”

Natasha licks her lips in annoyance. If there’s one thing she could never do was stand up to her family. In the rare moments that she did, she would blow up. She doesn’t need that right now.

“I think what Natasha is saying is that she and y/n are willing to work on their mistakes,” Melina chooses her words carefully. “I do just like the rest of you that their split was terrible. We were all rooting for the both of you. I think if you two are going to make it work we support that. Even if we have our reservations.”

“Reservations?” Yelena asks incredulously. “I don’t have reservations. I’m pissed about it is what I am. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back to someone who has shown time and time again how much she doesn’t care.” That’s the part that sends tiny knives through Natasha’s heart.

“Please,” She mutters but it’s loud enough for them to hear. “I know how you all feel. I know you’re still mad at her and part of me is too. That other part of me still wants so badly for this to work. I owe it to myself to see it through. I owe it to Ryan and Emma, too.” Just as she finishes there’s rapping on her window. She glances up to find you giving her a small wave. She raises a finger to tell you to wait and you give her a small smile before walking over to the front of the car. “I have to go but please keep an open mind. I need your support.”

“Of course, big girl,” Melina says easily. She hears a sound akin to whack and suddenly Alexei joins in. “I will.”

“Еле́на?” Natasha asks.

Yelena smacks her lip and Natasha can tell there’s another eye roll at the other end of the line.

“Okay fine,” She relents. “I can’t say that I won’t poison her drink if she tries something else.”

“I will hold you to that,” Natasha laughs. “I have to go but I love you all so much.” She says before rushing to hang up the phone. She doesn’t want to leave you waiting any longer. She presses the button to turn off her car as she quickly stuffs her phone inside of her pockets. Even after all this time, she refuses to carry a purse. She opens the door of the car, giving you another smile, before slamming it shut.

“Hey,” You say softly as she continues to walk until she’s standing right in front of you. The height difference is still so endearing. She looks up at you with a shy smile before stretching her neck to kiss you. It’s soft and so damn sweet. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept fine,” Natasha pulls back.

“Good,” You respond. You take a look at the building to the side of you before turning back to her inquisitive eyes. “Ready to go and have our entire relationship picked apart?”

She nods. She’s been in therapy before. She knows what it entails. She can’t say she’s that big of a fan but she wants this to work. She needs this to work.

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

When you sit down on the couch of the therapist's office you don’t intentionally mean to sit so far apart. You’re not on opposite ends of the couch. Natasha is mere inches away from you. If needed you can reach out and touch her. You sit with a rigid posture and fidgety eyes. Natasha ever the calm one sits with her legs crossed and a relaxed form. You’re a bit jealous of the fact that she’s always able to play it so cool. You look around the room of the office to ground yourself. The therapist, Cheryl, sits across from you shuffling papers together before she can begin. You notice the plaques on the wall, framed in a deep brown shade, hung up with pride. The walls are painted soft gray with white trim. The couch is comfy, new, and a bit stiff. It hasn’t been sat on much as a testament to its recent purchase. You adjust in your seat to test this theory and Cheryl notices. She looks up at you with something sort of like a smile.

“Oh, the entire office just got new furniture last week,” She mentions. Finally, she folds the papers and flips to an open page in her pad. “Now I want to begin by getting to know you both a little bit. From your intake papers, I understand that you have been divorced for almost nine months now but you’re seeking reconciliation.” She glances up from her pad to confirm. You nod. She looks back down. “I want to know your origin story. How did Y/n and Natasha begin? Then we can go ahead into more detail.”

She waits patiently for either of you to start. You glance at Natasha and she gives you the okay to speak. You were fine going first.

“Natasha and I met almost twelve? Twelve years ago at Stark Tower.” You start looking to Natasha for confirmation. She gives a subtle nod. “I was recently appointed creative director working alongside Tony Stark. As you know she’s an Avenger. Initially, we didn’t have that much contact. I was simply there to take in what Tony wanted. Um, I think I was three months into the job before we officially met. Tony wanted to go over some of the marketing for his latest gadget. Usually, a creative director just oversees the project from end to finish. With Tony, it’s everything.” You talk with your hands and suddenly you’re a bit self-conscious about that. “We had lunch in his lounge and Natasha walked in. She introduced herself, didn’t say much, she left after that. It was so quick.”

“Was this the first time you saw her?”

“Yes,” You answer.

“It wasn’t the first time I saw her,” Natasha offers. “It was at least a week before that. She was on her phone at one of the luncheons Tony was having. She was talking to her mom or something of that sort. She was complaining about Tony even with him a few feet away. Something about that interested me. How unafraid she was of the consequences with him standing right there.”

Natasha stops to let you continue the story.

“I don’t know how it was for Natasha but I… I fell in love the moment she held out her hand for me to shake,” You admit. You lick your lips before starting again. “I wanted her in every way.” There’s no sense of lying. “So I spent more time at the office than working from home. I would ask Tony about her. I would hope that I would get a chance to see her more.”

“It was pretty much the same for me,” Natasha says. “I tried to be around more. Usually, I would, um, make myself scarce. Product of my childhood. I stayed out of the way. With Y/N, for some reason, I didn’t feel I had to do that.”

“Our first kiss was at one of Tony Stark’s many, many parties.” You describe. “It was in the kitchen and I remember feeling so happy. I was also a bit nervous. How could a woman like her ever want someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” Cheryl hangs on to your words. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug. “I wasn’t very put together. I was very open and brash and she was more collected. More grown-up. Like she had her entire life together.”

“And you didn’t? You were a young creative director,” Cherly mentions.

“I didn’t feel like it at the moment,” You say and she writes something down on her pad. “So, anyway, neither of us had been in a relationship where we were one hundred percent serious about the other person. Everything felt so right with Natasha. It felt easy. To love her. It happened so easily.”

“I feel that way too,” Natasha agrees.

“Sounds like a beautiful love story,” Cheryl drops her pen for just a second. “Do you always talk in tandem like that? Like finishing the story for each other.”

You and Natasha blink. You hadn’t noticed it. You guess that’s what eleven years together would do.

“I find it cute,” Cheryl assures you. “Now, you have two children together correct?” She glances at her notes. “Ryan and Emma?”

“Yes,” Natasha answers.

“Great,” She mutters to herself. “So, I have my notes here and I guess I would like to ask what do you think the problems are in your relationship?” At your look she rephrases. “I am wondering what caused you two to divorce in the first place?”

“Several things really,” You say.

“We grew apart,” Natasha begins. “I don’t want to play the blame game. It’s just that for the past few years, y/n has been tied up with work. A lot.”

You nod. That’s a given she would tell this. “I think for a while we were just skirting by on being busy. The both of us.” You emphasize. “We lead such busy lives that we, mainly me, spent more time putting effort into that instead of putting effort into our relationship. I felt that I couldn't make her happy. We were fighting more. I was miserable. I don’t want to speak for her but it just became too much at once.” Cheryl scribbles on her notepad.

“Natasha, do you agree with this?” Cheryl asks.

Natasha nods. “Yes.”

“So what I’m hearing is that somewhere your lives got so busy that at some point there was a disconnect?” Cheryl summarizes. “Is there something that you think initiated this change?”

“I think it was after we had kids,” You say reluctantly. “Suddenly, we were balancing our careers, our relationship, and then kids. It was like in every direction there was always something. It’s a lot to say you can successfully juggle all of those. Something which I struggling with.”

“I think…. I agree.” Natasha thinks. “To an extent. My job offers me a bit more time off. Though it’s not always all at once. Since I’m traveling so much it was easy to curate our lives around that.”

“And you travel for work too?” Cheryl directs her question to you.

“I do,” You confirm. “Not as much. Well, not now, anyway. I took a sabbatical.” Cheryl’s eyes widen as she writes it down. “It was my own choice. I felt that I was neglecting my family. I - when Natasha suggested counseling it was something I knew I had to do.”

“Why?” Cheryl’s curious tone is nonjudgemental.

“For the reason, I said before,” You shift. “I was spending way more time there than necessary.”

“Are those your words or someone else,” A noise catches in your throat and she clarifies. “I just want to make sure I’m understanding the bigger picture.”

“They’re both,” You say.

“It was a concern that came up,” Natasha says. “The constant working wasn’t a problem at first. At least, I think it wasn’t. When we were first dating it was easier. It was simple. We could take entire weekends off. We would plan dates. She would come to spend the night with me in the tower. It’s like she made time and put effort into our relationship.”

“Of course, marriage and just dating are two separate hurricanes, I like to say.” Cheryl agrees.

“Which is kind of my concern,” Natasha’s brow furrows. “That it was easier. I mean, I didn’t come with the expectation that everything would be, that’s not what I’m saying. I just…”

“Felt that marriage would work better for us than it did,” You finish. “Considering both of our pasts, issues with abandonment, intimacy, all of it. We put so much work into it until we didn’t. I think we both had these expectations.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think with us it was a sort of push and pull,” You say. You look to see if Natasha is still with you and for the most part, she is. “As easy as it was, I felt for a while that Natasha was emotionally unavailable in the beginning. Which we worked on. Obviously. Then with me, I was sort of guarded. I wanted to protect a lot of our relationship and what we had which just turned into unrealistic expectations for each other. Which prompted our first break up.” You both remember the heartbreak of that one. It was within the first few months of dating. You wanted to commit and Natasha didn’t. You already had her heart. Why did you need more?

“What are the expectations of your relationship?” Cheryl asks. “Are they realistic now versus that time?”

There’s a pause as both of you think of what to say.

“I expect stability, time, romance,” Natasha lists off. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Honesty.”

“Same,” You cross your legs. “I also expect patience and understanding,”

“What?” Natasha asks. “What part of me has not been either of those things?”

“I’m not saying you haven’t been, Tasha.” You assure her. “I’m just saying those are what I expect. It’s not a dig.”

“What if you felt that way, y/n?” Cheryl prompts. “Would you be willing, to be honest with Natasha and tell her that?”

“Yes, of course,” You say.

“And Natasha would you be honest with y/n if any of your expectations weren’t being met?”

“Yes,” Natasha says. You must have made a look as Cheryl catches it painting her Inkpen towards you.

“Y/n, do you not agree?”

“No, I,” You fumble. “I do to a certain degree. Natasha is just fine expressing her feelings. Often it's way after the fact. She lets things simmer for a while.”

“Natasha do you?”

“I do,” Natasha allows herself to show that insecurity. “It’s the way I was raised. Don’t show emotion and don’t bring up conflict. It’s, it’s nothing but I’m not how everyone thinks. Sure, I can put someone in their place but I can’t stand up for myself. That’s not the issue. The issue is not wanting there to be conflict when it’s quiet. I guess.”

“Y/n, how does that make you feel?” It’s a classic cliche therapist question.

“It kind of ticks me off,” You admit. “I want her to tell me things she’s felt beforehand. A lot of the times she says I leave her in the dark but I feel that way too.”

Cheryl writes something down again. She takes a bit longer to do it this time.

“So, from what we have discussed so far today, Natasha you feel unheard and maybe a bit neglected?” Cheryl tilts her head and Natasha gives a subtle nod. She’s right on the money. “And y/n, you are a bit unclear how you feel but you seem to be feeling like you’re stretched thin and struggling with how to make Natasha happy while also keeping your own identity?”

“You got it,” You say.

“Okay,” Cheryl says. “So, I know we don’t have a lot of time here. Just a couple more minutes. I want to ask you what are your goals for couples therapy?”

“I want one of our goals to be better communication,” You say first. “Then maybe better methods of handling whatever conflict there may be.”

“I second that,” Natasha folds her arms under her chest. “I also want to better understand our relationship and each other. I want us to find and talk about the root of our problems.”

“Those sound like very realistic expectations,” Cheryl makes a list on her notepad. “I have a couple more questions before I’ll let you go. My major one is are you having sex?”

There’s a sense of discomfort coming from both of you. Not because you’re embarrassed. You’re both very private people and you’re not exactly willing to talk about your sex life or lack thereof.

“No, kind of?” Natasha says. “We haven’t completely been together for sex in almost three years.”

“There have been some instances where we have been intimate but it’s not--”

“Very satisfactory?”

“Yes,” You shake your head. “We weren’t able to finish since we always seem to get interrupted. We uh, we both decided that we wouldn't have sex until we worked through some of our problems.”

“I hear a lot of couples say that,” Cheryl nods. “I think while it is a great feat there are many benefits of a healthy sexual relationship in couples. It can improve your self-confidence, it could be a way of showing someone how much you love them, a way to bond with your partner.”

“So you’re saying have more sex?”

“In so many words,” Cheryl sets down her pad. “I think if it’s a goal of yours not to have sex then that is perfectly fine. There are plenty of ways to also share in the intimacy of that without full-blown intercourse.” Like phone sex but you won’t bring that up to her.

“Like?”

“Kissing, simply touching each other, a bath together, dry humping,” Her bluntness almost has the two of you blushing. “Massages. Mutual Masturbation. The list is quite endless.” She stands from her chair and you follow her with your eyes. She grabs two sheets of paper and hands them to you both.

Your eyes scan over the sheet finding questions and blanks to be filled in. “The Relationship Assessment? It looks like homework.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Cheryl gives a grin. “For therapy to work inside you must be doing the work out there. So this is the first assignment. Finish this and then find something to do that you both enjoy. Sexual or no sexual.”

“And we bring this back for our next session?” Natasha asks.

“Yes,” Cheryl glances over to the clock. “This time together is to relearn each other. Just as if you were dating again.”

You reach over to grab Natasha’s hand. She clasps yours while reading over the sheet again.

“Your time is up, I will see you next week.” Cheryl ends.

Guess you had work to do.

---> next part

[the-fiction-witch]

Doctor's Orders

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smut

I giggled as well as snuck my way through the busy port streets. I wanted to make sure I wasn't spotted but also not look suspicious. It was a very thin line to walk.

I reached my destination of the port hospital ignored the brightly lit entrance and went around the side to sneak in the side door which as usual was left unlocked.

This was the typical Tuesday night nowadays and I found it as thrilling as ever as I snuck through the hospital luckily many were busy and didn't pay me much mind as I found my way to the second floor to the familiar door. I stopped In Front of it fixing my dress and making sure I looked as I wanted to before I knocked on the door giving it the agreed one tap, break, one tap, break two Taps. I was barely waiting a minute as the door slid open and there leant on the doorframe stood Doctor Jack Dawkins one of the two young doctors for the port hospital in his usual well-worn clothes but his waistcoat and jacket gone revealing his suspenders as he leant his hip on the door frame and seemed smug to see me “what took you so long?” He chuckled taking my hand and quickly ushering me inside shutting the door with his foot

“Well I had to go-” I began but he held my jaw and kissed me before I even got a chance to say my excuse our kisses were rather passionate even for only four days since we were last alone together and he tugged down my hood as he pulled away

“I missed you babydoll”

“I missed you too Jack darling” I giggled giving his suspenders a playful snap “It hadn't been that long had it?’

“Well a week since I've had my babydoll locked up in my room with me”

“But only four days since someone came sneaking into my bedroom window” I giggled going across his room to slip off my cloak and hood fully

“How do you know that was me?” He chuckled

“The four hours' worth of bed-breaking sex that followed clued me in” I giggled

“Did it now?” he smirked coming and wrapping his arms around my waist

“It did yes” I smiled wrapping my own around his neck and playing with his hair a little

“Well, I don't know what kind of suitor boys you have climbing in your window?”

“Only one. who I keep telling is welcome to use the front door. My father is away six days a week Jack I really don't know what you’re worried about”

“I happen to like the secretive approach. Don't know what sort of spies your father may have planted between the halls to try and see where his daughter keeps sneaking off to”

“He doesn't care. He's just frustrated that a certain someone has yet to deliver on promises”

“I'm working on it,” he smirked rubbing his nose on mine “Why do you always wear these dresses when you visit? You know how much I… enjoy getting to, ravish my babydoll in one of her expensive dresses”

“I figured less layers. Fewer buttons and clasps. Quicker to get off” I smirked doing it back

“hmmm like I need help?” He smirked with a smug grin as in our cuddle he hand managed to unlace my dress without making enough movement for me to notice.

“You are a sneaky little snake aren't you?” I smirked pushing my body to his

“Babydoll, we both know my snake isn't little” he growled

“Merely an expression Jack darling” I giggled “You know I love my, big, strong, sneaky, snake” I smirked walking my fingers slowly down his chest and under his trousers Making him gasp

“That what you want?’

“Beyond any doubt”

“We best not linger then, we loosening the dark” he growled pulling me back to our kiss this time the kiss was far more intense grabbing and almost clawing at one another until his legs hit his bed so I pushed him down he smirked and pulled his suspenders off and threw his shirt off him and off his bed “come here babydoll’ he growled pulling me back to our kiss this time moaning into the kiss as he began pushing up my skirt but I took his hands away

“Jack darling, it's only Tuesday.” I giggled stroking his cheek

“Uuhh come on I need you” he gasped “We both know one quick little turn each isn't gonna be enough. You've already edged me for fucking days you really think I can last much longer before I crawl in your bedroom window again?’

“I know, I know but Tuesdays is a quick day because you're on call, you made the rules Jack I'm just following them”

“Fine. You want rules?” He smirked “How about we play a game?”

“Oh? A game?”

“It's a very fun game I've made just for my babydoll” he smirked “It's called doctor’s orders.”

“Ohh? How do you play?’

“Well the doctor, that's me of course gives an order and the patient that's you has to obey it no matter what it is. And you have to continue any orders that don't interfere with your new ones”

“So give me an example”

“well an example would be, I tell you to get on your knees and then to suck my cock, you can't get up from your knees to suck until I say you can so you'd have to crawl over to me” he smirked

“This seems much more fun for you”

“A little but trust me my baby doll will enjoy herself” he smirked “so? Shall we play?”

“Alright, but we have to be quick”

“We will be, first. Stand by the wall”

I giggled but did as he asked going to stand by the wall and he soon came up behind me and peppered kisses down my neck

“Hands on the wall” he growled moving my hands to the wall “and legs apart.”

“How far apart?”

“As far as you can” he growled running his finger across my hips so I did as he said moving my legs to stand with my feet as far from each other as I could “perfect babydoll” he growled kissing my shoulder and down my spine finally reaching my coxis and he moved to his knees and pulled the hem of the dress up to my waist doing the same to my underdress until my bare skin was exposed he chuckled as he exposed me giving my ass a soft but firm jiggle before he playfully bit me softly enough it didn't hurt me but enough his teeth would mark my skin

“What's next?”

“Doctor will tell you babydoll” he whispered as he moved himself I didn't know what he was doing until it all became clear as he gently moved to kneel between me and the wall under my dress and he began to kiss my clit stroking my pussy softly and slowly I gasped in shock but very quickly melted into his kisses

“Uhh jack-”

“Nice and quiet babydoll. Doctors working” he cooed between kisses

I did my best to keep quiet but that wasn't exactly easy with him kissing and sucking at my clit often feeling my wetness drip down my legs, I moaned uncontrollably as his fingers slipped inside me

“Uhhhh! Jack please -”

“Your absolutely soaked babydoll, your dripping on my floor your so wet” he growled playfully amused by his torment luckily he pulled away and stood pressing himself and me completely to the wall “you ready for more?” He whispered in my ear his hand stroking me slipping his fingers back inside as he

“Uhhh yes doctor -”

“That's my girl” he smirked moving his hand fast and hard

“Uhhhhh!”

“take off your dress.”

“What-”

“You heard me.” He smirked taking his hand away sitting in his bed leaning in the wall with a wicked smirk “strip for me like a little burlesque dancer”

I blushed a little but went over and stood Infront of his bed slowly but surely I removed each layer of my dress until absolutely nothing was hidden from him by now he was almost biting his lip Off, a dark lustful look in his eyes as he made sute he saw every last inch of my body.

“What's next doctor?” I smiled

His response silent and simple he simply brought his hand up and curled his index finger towards himself summoning me closer with the familiar ‘come hither’ gesture. I made sure to playfully take my time making each step take a good ten seconds just to frustrate him further until I was an inch from his bed and by then I was in reach and he'd had enough waiting. He grabbed my hips and forced me into his lap my thighs each side of him pulling me so tight not an inch of us was apart all that concealed him his rough worn trousers

“This what you want?’ he asked between kisses across my lower jaw

“Yes” I smiled sliding my hands down his shoulders, down his chest and slipping my hand under his trousers and underwear to take him in my hand

“ummmm! Ride my babydoll” he whispered

“Yes doctor” I giggled moving to kiss down his neck even giving his neck little nibbles which was enough to have him clawing at my back like an irate kitten before he undid his trousers and pushed them and his underwear down letting his erection free

“Ride me. Now” he demanded forcing my hips forward so I had no choice but feel him force his way inside me only half way but still

“Uhhhhh! Jack!” I gasped in shock and the suddenness of feeling him inside me gripping his hair as I pulled his head into my chest not that he minded slowly I lowered myself until I was at his base and he had filled me utterly full with himself trying to think straight and get my breath he smirked and leant back leaning his elbows in his bed

“Ride babydoll” he growled

“Well its doctors orders” I blushed resting my hands on his stomach as I began to move my hips I started with gentle bounces but soon found myself riding him intensely gasping often and trying not to squeal even if many a moan and groan escaped until he began to thrust up forcing me to keep to this pace he desired smirking hard as he watched clearly very much enjoying the sight of me over him especially the longer it went on as the less I was about to hold my sounds back knowing I was already close just from bouncing on him this long he smirked and kissed from the centre of my chest up to my ear

“You know what the sexiest thing you do is?” He whispered

“No?’ I blushed

He smirked biting his lip as he rubbed my nose on his own “say my name.’

“What?” I giggled

“The sexiest thing you do, is when you say my name.” He growled “I fucking love hearing you moan my name in the throws of eztacy. Ummm you make my name sound so good babydoll” he smirked kissing me and rubbing my clit

“Uhhh ! Ughhhhh! Jack please -”

“Umm see how good you sound” he smirked

“Uuuughhhhh jack stop please I'll-” I whined

“Yeah? Want me to stop. say my name”

“Uhh jack! Please!”

“Louder” he demanded rubbing harder speeding up his thrusts leaving me utterly at his mercy

“Ahhhh jack!” I squealed

“Louder”

“Uuuughhhhh uughh jack!” I screamed feeling like I was moments from my high

“Ummmm fuck-” he groans pulling my face closer so he could rest his forehead on mine “my name sounds so good from your lips babydoll.” he moaned “ummm show me how much you love me” he demanded

And in that moment I hit my wall my whole body felt the wave of pleasure across my every inch, throwing my head back and squeezing around him slightly squirting in him “fuck! You really must love me” he gasped “bad bad girl” he smirked spanking my ass hard “I didn't say you could cum.”

“I couldn't help it” I whined resting my head on his shoulder as he moved my hips himself

“Awww you poor thing, did it feel good?”

“Amazing”

“I bet it did, now. Make me cum” he demanded

“How should -”

“You know how babydoll”

[wintersoldiersoul]

She's Here

Summary: When you lose one of the most important people in your life, Bucky is there to support you

TWS: Death of a loved one (best friend), suicide and depression, grief, angst, fluff, talk about what happens after death

You were at your happiest just sitting on the couch with Bucky. It was a rare occurrence that you both had free time like this so you took full advantage when you did. Your body rested against his with his arms wrapped around you, both of you focused on the movie playing on the tv screen. Bucky’s hand idly played with your hair, running the strands through his fingers in the most comforting way.

Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking you out of the peaceful trance you had been in. It was a random number, so you ignored it. But then it rang again. And again. You answered it, curiosity peaked at who was calling you so many times.

“Y/N?” A female voice said over the line. “It’s Y/B/F/N’s mom.” The woman was clearly crying.

Your heart rate picked up. Why was your best friend’s mother calling you at this hour on a friday night? “Is everything okay?” You said, panic rising in your own voice. Bucky’s eyes were fixed on you as you sat up, suddenly much more alert than you had been.

You went stone cold at the next words. She was dead. Your best friend in the entire world, was dead. She had killed herself. She had lost the battle with depression that you knew she had faced her entire life. 

You hung up the phone a moment later with shaking hands. You stared out into the vast openness off the room, not knowing what to do. 

“Baby?” Bucky whispered. He knew something was wrong.

“She’s dead.” Your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t believe you were saying the words out loud. Just hours ago you had spoken to your best friend on the phone, talking about her upcoming trip to visit you in New York. “Y/B/F/N is dead.” 

“What do you need?” Bucky asked immediately. He wanted to wrap you up and hold you but he also understood if you just needed space. He didn’t wanna startle you.

You looked up at him, mouth open, trying to find words. You had no idea what you needed at this moment.

Your body fell into him as the sobs started to wrack your body. He held you close, like he was afraid you might slip away. “I’m so so sorry,” he whispered.

Bucky was no stranger to losing people that he loved. Sure, it might not have been exactly the same. He had woken up from decades of brainwashing in a brand new world, a world where everyone he loved was dead. But still, he understood the feeling of grief.

He knew how close you and your best friend were. You had grown up together. Had done everything together. You never missed your weekly calls, even if you were busy. You always made the time because she was the most important person in your life, next to Bucky. Losing her was like losing half of yourself.

“I-I don’t know what to do!” You cried, struggling to breathe.

Bucky didn’t let go of you that night, carrying you to bed while you sobbed until he finally got you calm enough to sleep.

Three days later

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. This isn’t real, you thought as you smoothed the black dress on your body. This isn't real. She’s gonna call me any second. 

“Are you ready?” Bucky’s gentle voice said. He sounded so far away. Everything sounded, and felt so far away. This isn’t real. 

You sighed. “No. I don’t think there’s any way for me to be ready for this.”

“Today is gonna be hard, I’m not gonna lie.” He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your frame from behind, just trying to give you comfort in any way. “But I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll be right next to you.”

You cried when you saw her parents. Her siblings. You cried again when the service started, but pulled yourself together before it was your turn to speak.

“Hi everyone,” you began, voice already shaking. “My name is Y/N. Y/B/F/N was my best friend in the entire world. She was my sister.” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you paused to collect yourself. “It’s impossible to put our friendship into words.” You couldn’t control it anymore as a sob rang out from the depths of your body. Bucky immediately rushed up, prepared to do whatever you needed to help you get through the speech. “I-I can’t,” you whispered so only he could hear it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said quietly. He unwrapped himself from you and took your place at the podium. “We became friends on the first day of kindergarten,” Bucky spoke, reading your words for you to the crowd. “The first thing she said to me was that my shoes were ugly and that we had to hang out so that she could pick out new ones for me.” 

You watched from the side as his steady voice recounted your relationship with your best friend. You wished you were stronger. That you could have read the words yourself. But at least Bucky was there to step in when you couldn’t. It was important to you that the things you had written were heard by everyone in that room.

Back at her mother’s house, after the service, you greeted person after person who gave their condolences. It felt like a broken record, sitting there, saying thank you to each and every person who walked through the door. You were exhausted.

“We can go home, baby,” Bucky said, noticing the sad, empty look in your eyes.

You nodded in agreement, suddenly unable to bear another moment of the current setting you were in. 

“I could have done more.” Those were the first words you said when you and Bucky walked into the threshold of your home. “I could have helped her! I could have saved her!”

“Oh angel…” He hugged you, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. “You were always there for her. Every single day. You never missed a phone call, never left a text unanswered. She was your world. And she knew that. Trust me, she knew.”

“But what if there was something else I could have done?” You raised your voice, the anger stage of grief beginning to hit. “I should have noticed she wasn’t okay! I- I thought she was better! I thought she was doing better but she wasn’t and I should have known!”

Bucky’s eyes were full of pain. His heart was shattered into so many pieces on your behalf. “Listen to me. You did everything that you could. This is not your fault.”

“I just…” your voice trailed off. “I should have known,” you finished, quietly. “I wish I could tell her how much I love her just one more time. I need her to know.” Hot tears burned down your face.

“She knows. Somewhere, somehow, she knows. She will always know.” 

Later that night, you and Bucky laid in bed. “What do you believe in, when it comes to death?” you asked.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” he said. “I don’t know if I believe in heaven and hell in a traditional sense. But since I don’t know, I chose to believe whatever brings me comfort. I think that people who pass are watching over us, somehow. I like to believe that they can see us and hear us. And that they show themselves to us through the little things. Like a breeze blowing when you think of them. Or even a dream. I think that the dead have their ways of communicating with us.” He stroked your hair as he spoke.

“I like that,” you replied. “I’ve never really known what to believe either. I guess I’ve never really believed in anything. But you’re right. If we don’t know what actually happens, we have to believe in whatever gives comfort.”

“She’s here with you, baby. Somehow, she’s here. And she knows how much you love and miss her.”

You curled up against him. “I don’t know how to live without her,” you said, another round of tears spilling.

“She’s with you, honey. She is.” 

A week later, you and Bucky were on a walk. He tried to get you out of the house as much as possible, terrified that your grief would overtake you and pull you into a darkness that you’d never climb out of. 

“Tell me a story about her,” he said, his hand clutching yours.

“She loved rain,” you laughed lightly. “She was always forcing me to go outside in the rain with her. I don’t know why. But I can’t even tell you how many times we just ran around, getting soaked until we both ended up with colds.”

Bucky smiled at you as you spoke, telling him stories about you and your best friend and how you would stay outside for hours getting drenched.

As you continued, the sky turned gray. Thick, heavy raindrops pounded on the pavement.

“See that?” Bucky said. “She’s here with you. She’ll always be here.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Punch me out

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 4

Prompt: Meet-cute at work

Rated: E

CW: Blowjobs, dirty talk, slight degradation kink

Tags: No UD AU; company Christmas party; bathroom sex; blowjobs; dirty talk; Eddie is a disaster and Steve is a slut and they both love it; inappropriate use of vending machine drinks

Eddie shouldn't have gone to the company Christmas party. The few weeks he's worked here taught him a bunch of stuff. 

The CEO? Asshole. 

The management? Spineless lickspittles.

The corporate culture? A conglomerate of bullshit. Eddie’s position is called Facility Manager - the most ridiculous euphemism for Janitor ever.

Anyhow!

He shouldn't have come, but Gareth insisted that was exactly what those tie-wearing douchebags wanted, so they went. 

Only that Gareth has disappeared with the receptionist, leaving Eddie to aimlessly meander while the tie wearers got progressively more drunk. He should probably have gone home.

Only he didn't. 

So he kind of brought this upon himself, he thinks, while a puddle of punch soaks into his crotch and laughter wafts all around him. 

The only one looking equally horrified is the guy the punch belonged to. He’s still holding the empty cup and blushing from his chestnut hair all the way down to his business shirt. 

“Shit, sorry!” he babbles. “Didn’t see you there-” 

“Don’t sweat it, Stevie,” Tommy Hagan guffaws. “I’m sure he brought his mop.” 

Stevie’s face grows stony. “Shut it, Tommy.”

Hagan does. 

Before Eddie can feel confused, one large hand takes him by the shoulder and steers him away. 

“Sorry again.” 

“‘s alright,” Eddie shrugs. “Was just heading home-” 

“Oh, no.” A pair of big, sad eyes fixes him from behind wire-frame glasses. “At least let me make it up to you? Please?” 

How could Eddie say no to that? 

*

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans, head thudding against the bathroom wall. "If that's you apologizing, you can spill stuff on me more o-ooooh …" 

Stevie doesn't answer, which … okay. That would be quite the feat with Eddie’s cock down his throat as it is. 

He looks up at Eddie from where he's kneeling, and fuck, the sight of him! Hairdo ruined, lips stretched obscenely wide, eyes glassy with arousal. The picture is almost enough to do Eddie in, so he tangles his fingers in that hair and yanks that warm, wet mouth closer. Stevie's eyes roll back and he moans, and that's all it takes before Eddie is coming down his throat. 

Stevie doesn't so much as whine, just swallows. God, he's perfect. Eddie wants to take him home. Tie him up in bed. Never let him leave. 

"Wow," he murmurs as Stevie pulls off, slack-jawed and starry-eyed. "Are you always such a cockslut, or was that only for me?" 

Stevie smiles up at him. The glint in his eyes is smug. 

"Only if it's such a nice cock," he hums. "What's attached to it isn't bad, either."

Pretty, slutty, and a little bratty to boot? Eddie will just have to keep him. 

"Give me your number?" he mumbles as Stevie staggers to his feet, and leans in for a sloppy kiss. 

Stevie dances out of his reach. 

"No need to," he winks, unlocking the door and skipping his way out. "We work in the same office. I'll find you." 

*

Stevie does not find him, of fucking course. Eddie tries to put it out of his mind, goes to work as usual and does definitely not scan the crowds for that voluminous shock of hair. 

He's actually relieved when the holidays come. The floors are empty and nobody calls because they need their door oiled or their light bulbs changed. Eddie holes up in his basement and starts working on that new campaign. 

Until the phone rings and a bored receptionist informs him Mr Harrington's height-adjustable desk is broken. 

"The CEO?" Eddie asks dumbly. 

"No," drawls the receptionist, "The son." 

*

The office is spacious and bright and tastefully decorated. Eddie hates everything about it. The fancy adjustable desk is not plugged in. 

He's just under it on all fours, ass in the air, fingers desperately stretching for the socket, when the door opens. He quickly shuts down his monologue about overpaid dumbasses. 

"Hey, man. I'll be out of your hair in a second." 

"No need to hurry," says someone. "I'll just enjoy the view." 

"What the- ow, motherfucker!" Eddie whirls around so fast he cracks his head on the desk. "Stevie?" 

Stevie kicks the door shut, sips idly on his vending machine drink, and observes how Eddie clambers to his feet. 

"Said I’d find you," he smiles. Before Eddie can form a reply, he's being pushed against the desk and there's a tongue down his throat. 

"I- wha- wait!" He tries to pull away. Stevie keeps nipping at his throat. "Are you crazy? Harrington Junior could be here any second." 

"He already is." 

Eddie yelps and looks around frantically, half expecting to see someone lurking behind a potted plant. There's nobody there. 

"But it's just me and-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh my God," he groans. The mouth against his pulse grins. 

"Steve is fine." 

"You're the CEO's son," Eddie babbles. "I called you a cockslut, I-" 

Stevie - no Steve, Steve fucking Harrington, Eddie is so fucked - just shrugs. 

“I am,” he says easily. 

Eddie gapes at him. 

“The CEO’s son or …” 

Steve laughs in his face. It’s bright and cheerful and adorable and so fucking cheeky, Eddie wants to teach him some manners. Long, graceful hands are fiddling with the zipper of his overalls. 

“Listen,” he sighs when Eddie doesn’t react, just keeps gaping at him like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had an unexpected business trip to go on, but … I’ve been thinking about you the entire time. Let me make it up to you?” 

“I …” Eddie nods dazedly. Their lips brush with the movement. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Brilliant,” Steve says. Then, in one swift movement, he takes his drink and upends it in Eddie’s lap. 

Eddie gawks, heat pooling where the stain is spreading, tight and urgent. 

“Oops,” Steve Harrington deadpans, and gets on his knees. 

Maybe going to the Christmas party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

All my holiday drabbles