#so this might come as a surprise to all but my very closest followers

[odinsblog]

Okay… today was a lil bit rough on ya boy. Bad, but nothing too serious - if this was the worst that 2023 throws at me, I’m winning like a mf. Anyway I smiled when this happened…. I can’t access the “read more” function anymore, so y’all gon need to see the tags

[sometimesanalice]

What’s In a Name?

Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.

Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI

Length: 9K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

Bradley loved hearing you say his name. 

He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.

There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips. 

He loved hearing it every chance he could. 

He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.

BradleyBradleyBradley

He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.

He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store. 

He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.

Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.

You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.

Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.

“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”

“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.

“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.

He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.

“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.

“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.

He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost. 

Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.

“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman. 

“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I’ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”

“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice. 

He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart. 

“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.” 

That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.” 

You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later. 

“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”

His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.

“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.

“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.” 

She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.

“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.” 

He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.

“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.

“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.

He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.

He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.

He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk. 

Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.

You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.

What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend. 

Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.

“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now. 

“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.

“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”

He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.

Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.

“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?” 

“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”

When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.

You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.” 

And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.

He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.

There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm. 

“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck.  He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more. 

He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.

The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth. 

He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised. 

When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.

The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands. 

He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.

Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.

You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it. 

Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm. 

Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar. 

It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.

“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?” 

“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”

“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”

That was all he wanted.

He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.

“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you. 

The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself. 

He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.

Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment. 

It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.

He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:

“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”

And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar. 

He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:

“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”

And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table. 

“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.

After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.

He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:

“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”

And then he would find himself seated at the piano.

To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’. 

To you he was Bradley. 

Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.

Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.

There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.

You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on. 

Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.

He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.

Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.

You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.

Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.

Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing. 

And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.

The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.

He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room. 

Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.

Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.

Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs. 

His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched. 

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze. 

And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.

Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on. 

The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.

You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.  

“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.

You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.

It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.

Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.

There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it. 

You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet. 

And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself. 

You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.

Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:

Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!

In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance. 

You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of. 

You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.

Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.

Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.

You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.

While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.

You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.

“Hey, kid.”

And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy. 

“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.

You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.

“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.

“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”

“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior. 

“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you. 

You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.

“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.

“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”

The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.

“Bradley.” 

You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.” 

The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco. 

He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.

You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something. 

That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.

It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.

However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.

He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.

So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible.  And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either. 

He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.

“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. 

He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.

He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.

“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.” 

“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.

You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”

“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.

“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.

“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.

“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”

Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him. 

He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.

There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.

How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?

He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his. 

He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.

He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his. 

He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.

What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.

You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.

You were his sweet girl.

“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed. 

He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.

“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him. 

Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse. 

Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.

His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured. 

His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.

He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him. 

“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”

Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.

“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.

Yet another offering to his bedroom floor. 

And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties. 

He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”

You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.

He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want. 

“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.

Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach. 

“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder. 

“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild. 

“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.

It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.” 

He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.

He will never get tired of watching you fall apart. 

He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed. 

Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself. 

He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition. 

But you make him feel good.

No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.

He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.

“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.

“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him. 

“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?” 

“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

“Did you think about it? Think about me?” 

He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him. 

“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”

Good.

“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.

He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.

He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.

It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder. 

He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.

You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.

He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.

“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”

Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed. 

“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.

He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.

“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.” 

Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him. 

Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.

“I want you inside me.”

Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center. 

And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips. 

He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.

“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down. 

Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye.  He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.

“R-ooster.” 

The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again. 

He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.

“Say my name.”

He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.

“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.

If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you. 

He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.

The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.

“Say my name,” he coaxes again.

He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.

“Bradshaw,” you counter.

Closer, but still not what he wants to hear. 

His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.

Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most. 

He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.

You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.

“You want this cock?” he rasps.

He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.

“Look at me,” he demands. 

You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.

“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”

That makes you whine. 

“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.

He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.

“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.” 

He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.

“Bradley!” you cry out.

He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out. 

Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”

Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.

He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.

“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”

His name. 

The only thing he wanted running through your mind. 

His name. 

The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you. 

“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.

Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you. 

“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.

“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.

Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.

You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had. 

His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.

He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep. 

He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm. 

Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.

You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.

“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat. 

He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.

“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth. 

“Bradley, please.” 

He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.

“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.” 

He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.

And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.

Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you. 

It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.

A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.

Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.

“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.

Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom. 

“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.

“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice. 

“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.

True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.

Much better.

He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder. 

“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone. 

Up the side of his neck.

He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.

“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.

The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.

And then you’re giggling.

“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”

Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.

“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.

“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.” 

If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.

He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.

“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”

And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.

Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name. 

Over, and over, and over again. 

A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.  

His bed. Your bed. Their bed.

It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.

Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere. 

He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off. 

There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.

He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways. 

You would always be worth the wait.

The packages that were delivered to the door?

His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.

The name signed on the lease for the condo? 

His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him. 

The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand? 

His, for now, but always meant to be yours.

You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!

Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse​ for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead! 

Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!

You can check my other fics out here!

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks​ @starryeyedstories​

[ericshoney]

Favourite ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You have to go to the doctors for a check up, not happy with the needles that come along, so the doctor calls for your favourite brother.

Warnings: probably swearing as usual, platonic nicknames, fluff, needles, doctors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today you had to go to the doctors for a check up and some shots. You weren't aware of that part, something your mother and brothers hadn't told you.

Nick, Matt and Chris were going to go along with you for support, knowing you might struggle once you find out. The trio were sat waiting for you and MaryLou. You then rushed to them, showing off your outfit.

"Cute hoodie, kid." Chris said, seeing you wearing the new merch, the guys made sure they had stuff in your size too.

You giggled as your mum came over. The five of you then left for the doctors. It made you slightly nervous, but being five, you were still easily distracted. Nick talked to you the whole way there to ease your mind.

When you parked up, you all walked in, you holding your mum's hand as she signed you in before sitting down and waiting. You only waited ten minutes before being called in.

"Y/n Sturniolo."

Nick, Matt and Chris remained in the waiting area as your mum went in with you. You sat on the bed quietly, swinging your legs as you watched the doctor put some gloves on.

"Hi sweetie, I'm just going to check a few things first, okay." She said sweetly.

You nodded and let her check your weight, height, pulse and breathing. Everything was good but next was the scary surprise. You watched as she went over and pulled out a small needle, making you whimper.

"It's okay honey." Your mum said.

"No." You replied.

"Just a slight scratch, you want to hold your mum's hand?" The doctor offered.

You shook your head quickly and curled up. The doctor looked at your mother who smiled.

"My sons are outside, Nick, Matt and Chris, maybe they can help." She suggested.

The doctor nodded and came to the waiting room. She looked around and saw three identical boys sitting at the back, to which she assumed they were your brothers. She walked over to them with a polite smile.

"I assume your Nick, Matt and Chris?" She asked.

"Yeah, that's us." Nick answered.

"Your sister is about to have a shot, but she's not very happy. Which one of you is her favourite?" She asked.

Nick, Matt and Chris shared a look. None of them thought you had a favourite. The doctor laughed slightly at their confused faces.

"I'll go." The three of them said at the same time as they stood up.

"No, I'm probably the closest to her." Matt said.

"No I am." Nick said.

"Ha no I'm her favourite." Chris said.

"How about all of you come in and help calm her down, I don't mean to rush but I have other people to see." The doctor said.

The three nodded and followed her to the room. You calmed down instantly seeing the three of them walk in, your mother standing by your side.

"Hey bub." Matt called, coming to sit on your left, Nick sat on your right, as Chris stood in front of you.

The guys distracted you, making you laugh and smile, so the doctor could give you the shots without you realising.

"And all done." She said, throwing her gloves away.

"Really?" You asked.

"Yes sweetie, well done." She answered with a smile, giving you a sticker too.

You giggled and headed back to the car. As your mum drove, the guys decided to ask you the big question.

"Sweetheart, who's your favourite?" Nick asked you.

"Favourite?" You repeated the word.

"Yeah, out of us three, bub." Chris said.

"Not have one." You answered simply.

"You don't have a favourite brother or triplet?" Matt asked.

"No! Love all the same!" You cheered.

"Aww, we love you too kiddo." Nick replied.

[jqafterdark]

Seeing S/O in Lingerie Reaction

From a request in my main blog, this has no smut but VERY SUGGESTIVE so... yeah ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sebastian Moran, William James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, and Louis James Moriarty

Tag/s: Historically inaccurate lingerie

Sebastian Moran

The man whistled as soon as you entered his field of vision.

He looked like a kid in a candy store.

Straight up GRINNING from ear to ear.

If you're showing him a variety, he'll inspect every single one of them.

It's almost alarming how focused he looks.

Little do you know, he's thinking about how to use whatever lace or strings your outfit has to his advantage in the bedroom.

The minute you're within his reach, Sebastian pulls you to his lap to get a closer look.

He takes his time to take in your figure while his hands roam through your body.

Even as you walk away, his eyes never leave your figure.

Like you were one of his targets on missions.

He would definitely tease you, wanting you to get riled up as much as he is.

What's more annoying is he wants you to say that you want to do it before he continues.

He's torn between taking it off or just doing the deed with it still on you.

Whatever position you're in, he definitely has a good view of you.

A mirror might be involved.

"I'm back-" Sebastian abruptly stopped as your eyes met in the mirror, wide in shock.

His eyes traveled down to your new short silk nightgown and stockings, going up and down before smiling.

"You could have just said so," he chuckled, removing his coat as he walked up to you.

You quickly grabbed whatever was closest to you, in this case, a hairbrush, and pointed it at him as you kept a distance.

"Oh no, you don't! Last time, I chased the target through the city with a limp!" you muttered, keeping your distance as your eyes never left him.

"Do you have a mission tomorrow?" Sebastian innocently asked, making you pause.

"...No...?"

"Then that settles it," he smiled, quickly hugging your waist.

"SEBASTIAN!"

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle. Wouldn't want your pretty outfit to rip, now do we?"

William James Moriarty

When you asked him to come with you to go underwear shopping, he was shocked, to say the least.

But he quickly recovered and agreed.

You definitely have his attention now.

While his eyes kept following you while he drank his tea, his smile was different than it usually was.

It was more... devious, so to speak.

While he keeps his composure, a lot has happened in his mind.

While you were picking some things, William acted like a perfect gentleman.

Holds the clothes you picked, heartfelt compliments to boost your confidence, over all the best boyfriend you could ask for.

Almost too good to be true. And it was.

He might have thought of a few scenarios on how the two of you could get away with it in the store.

It helped that it was a pretty private dressing room, considering the store was made just for the nobles, where it was just you and him.

Even the workers were far from earshot, attending to the other customers at the front.

But he didn't continue since he saw you enjoying your little date and didn't want to ruin your good mood.

It didn't help that you would ask him for help to put some of them on, though... Or take them off.

Besides, he has the whole night planned just for the two of you, and he's making sure no one would bother you two.

You hummed happily as you swung the bags in your arms, satisfied with your purchases.

"I'm surprised you agreed to go shopping with me, Will!" you mused as you turned to William, "Didn't you have a meeting later with everyone? Wouldn't you be late?"

William gave you a smile as he grabbed your hand, "The meeting was moved since some of the professors were out sick,"

"Is that so..." you trailed off, shrugging off his response.

William quietly chuckled, remembering the surprised expressions his comrades had when he said the meeting was canceled and assigned a new mission to everyone.

The manor was now empty until morning.

"Well, whatever! I can't wait to try these at home," you beamed, looking down at your new haul.

"Indeed," William agreed, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Sherlock Holmes

He never saw the appeal of the lingerie until he saw it on you.

Now, lace is his favorite thing on your body.

The first time he saw you in lingerie, it was like he shut down.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes were glued to you as he reached his hand out to you.

When you walked up to him, he eyed every inch of your body, engraving the image of you in his mind.

To him, you looked ethereal.

Like beauty personified.

When he did speak, it was soft and breathless, as if you rendered him speechless.

And when you did it, the sight of you in lingerie and covered in hickeys he left is now his favorite thing.

He gets more possessive whenever he sees you in lingerie.

And surprisingly more gentle and slow, wanting to enjoy every second of it.

Now, every time you buy a new set, he likes having a private fashion show.

When you bring him to a lingerie store, he is not embarrassed at all.

Hell, he'd even pick out a few things for you.

You can tell his compliments are genuine with how serious his expression is.

"Sherlock?" you called out, slowly walking up to him.

His eyes were completely wide as he looked at you.

"Sherl?" you called out again, but no response as he continued to stare at you.

You bit your lip as you covered yourself, feeling self-conscious wearing nothing but a bustier with matching underwear.

"Don't,"

"Huh?" Sherlock quickly grabbed your hands, pulling them down to your side.

"Don't hide it. You look beautiful," Sherlock breathed out, mesmerized by your outfit as his eyes slowly looked up at you.

You felt your face flush as you looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You're staring too much,"

"I disagree,"

Louis James Moriarty

You almost gave the man a heart attack.

He was not expecting to see you in lace and sheer one night after a long day of house chores.

Was it an unwelcomed surprise? No. Definitely not.

That night, he was just hoping to have some downtime with you after working the whole day.

So when he saw you by your dresser half-dressed putting on stockings, it was like the man turned into stone.

Minutes later, Louis came back and saw you in your robe, relieved to see he was okay.

His face became completely red when he remembered what happened and apologized for walking in on you.

Even though you forgave Louis, he's still scolding himself for liking what he saw.

What's more, his eyes would gaze over your robe when it would slip.

Explaining why he slammed his head on the table was interesting, to say the least.

So when you told Louis it was okay for him to look, he was still shy. But you would catch him stealing glances your way.

He tries to compliment you, say anything coherent for that matter. But he just mutters something while looking at the ground.

However, the moment he got more confident, his hands would not let you go.

Suddenly, he's fluent in dirty talk and knows just what to say to get you in the mood.

And he makes sure you know just how beautiful and alluring you looked that night.

"I truly apologize..." Louis muttered, a cold towel over his head as you chuckled, tying the robe tightly around your waist.

"Don't be. I'm just surprised," you reassured as you removed the towel, making Louis meet your eyes.

You weren't sure, but you swear you saw his eyes tracing your robe down to your chest.

His face turned completely red instantly, making him turn away.

You breathed out a smile as you hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm really not mad, Louis!" you giggled, swaying side-by-side.

"Besides, that was for your eyes only, you know?" you grinned, making the man freeze as steam came out of his face as you snickered.

"Please don't tease me..."

[mosquito-queen]

“kate bishop, you do not smoke!”

but yelena did. she did and she would ask kate for a light, just to tease, but she didn’t know how stupidly kate wanted to touch her mouth. so kate bought a shitty plastic lighter that was nearly the same color as yelena’s eyes. and she stole yelena’s much sturdier, metal cased lighter that looked like someone had attempted to knife a design into it. and she waited.

she waited until yelena’s phone pinged and the widow grew agitated with whatever was on the screen. and she waited until yelena grabbed her vest and aggressively motioned for kate to follow down the stairs and out into the crowded street. she waited until yelena produced a cigarette and then patted down her vest pockets looking for something she couldn’t find - because it was in kate’s poor excuse for a cutlery drawer at her new apartment. (which she did now at least own two of everything, thank you!)

and then kate didn’t have to wait anymore. because yelena was scowling and desperately rummaging in her empty pockets and kate said, so very cooly: “do you need a light?”

kate held up her shitty gas station lighter and yelena looked just as surprised as when kate slapped her in the elevator nearly six months ago, “kate bishop, you do not smoke!”

which was a point of contention. because kate hated when yelena smoked, but one time she wanted to put her mouth where yelena’s had been because it was the closest she would ever get to what she really wanted. and she had taken a drag and nearly hacked up a lung while yelena berated her for even trying. while yelena said all the same reasons kate told her not to smoke. and then kate was laughing and coughing which made tears streak down her face. and yelena had told her at least she was cute when she wasn’t trying to be cool. and that was a small win.

but kate was trying to be cool right now. she was trying to keep her panicky, throbbing heart from busting out her chest. because, she was going to light yelena’s cigarette and a small part of her brain told her she was special for that, that this was only something yelena would let her do. “do you want it or not?”

and yelena put the cigarette between her lips with a roll of her eyes, her hand outreached to grab the lighter. but kate swatted it away, and flicked the stupid thing - once, twice, fuck was it going to light? embarrassment at her shortfall burned her face, and kate sheepishly looked at yelena. which was always a mistake. because yelena looked like an angel - well the kind that definitely got expelled from heaven. she had a godawful crooked smirk around the cigarette because yelena knew, she always knew kate’s spiraling shenanigans.

and yelena took mercy. as merciful as a fallen angel could be. her hands cupped around kate’s holding the lighter, brought it closer to her face. her eyelashes fluttered and kate almost whined. her last brain cell worked and a flame finally sputtered from the definitely uncool means of getting the proximity kate craved.

yelena lit the cigarette, slowly pulling away. after a dramatic inhale, she took it out of her mouth and said so disgustingly simple: “kate bishop, it is your turn to take me on an american date, yes?”

kate spluttered, “my turn?”

“we had drinks, i paid,” yelena’s nose crinkled, “i said -“

“you said it might not be so bad to be my hawkeye’s widow.”

“and then you choked on your liquor.”

“i thought you meant -“

yelena’s face fell and kate could of kicked herself. “oh, do you not want -“

“no! i mean yes! of course! yes,” kate’s heart was definitely exploded twice over, “i want to take you on a date.” did those words really come out of her mouth?

“good.” it sounded more like a threat, but yelena beamed at kate. she put the half-used cigarette out on the pavement and tugged kate’s sleeve in the direction of their mission, “first we take care of business, then you take me to coney island.”

kate had no choice but to trail after yelena, “coney island? i thought i got to pick this time.”

yelena let out a short bark of laughter.

several bruises and crude stitches later, they went to coney island.

[coffeetheactualjellii]

"Diluc x Male Bodyguard Reader"

Content: Smut, aftercare, and enemies to eventual lovers. 

Smut Content: Anal, Oral (reader receiving), Use of Aloe Vera as Lube. 

A/n: Hello Guys! It's finally time that i uploaded this lol, but the thing i promoted this as is true it is co-written by me and my ex-girlfriend/situationship lol. Btw this might be a oneshot or a three part series depending on how well this does and if she still wants to co-write with me.

A/N update: [[ Me and my ex are no longer in talking terms as of now, because she got a new partner and its weird that Me (her ex) is asking her to write smut with me lol. I might write the following ones by myself. ]]

{{A/N Update}} Hi this is several months after the update up above and me and ny ex are in talking terms again and am here to day that part 2 will come eventually once the both of us are not that busy.

!!MDN!!

Word count: 2.2k 

____________________________________

Kingdoms Fall

The three Kingdoms in Monstatd live in harmony in the Continent of Teyvat.

You work for the Ragvindr family as the personal guard of their son Diluc. The Reign-ing Monarch of the kingdom of Krasi as one of their soldiers. 

The family has always been very traditional, royalty must marry royalty, Future king gets the throne regardless of the eldest daughter or not. Y’know, the basics. Now as a soldier you’re never close to any of the royals, the closest you’ve gotten to any of them is a simple “yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am.” Now you were assigned to guard their oldest son, Diluc Ragvindr. Keep in mind, this man hates you, he doesn’t like the thought of having a personal guard let alone a guard at all. Your duty as his personal guard is to follow and take note of his every single move, where he goes, what he does, even what he says.

Today the prince is training with some of the guards. You watch closely as he takes down the soldiers one by one slightly impressed by his skills. He takes the soldiers down one by one, leaving bruises and even some dislocated limbs on a few of the soldiers.

You see Diluc, a tall young man with crimson hair and autumn eyes. He’s a strong young man and it shows through his body shape and tight leather clothes. Diluc turns to face you, pointing his index finger directly at you. “You’re next.” He says with heavy breath and a raspy baritone voice as if he’s talking to a rival, a nemesis, an enemy.

As you stepped out onto the battlefield you and Diluc began to circle around each other, threatening each other death stares, gradually walking around each other, round, and round, and round you go. 

When the call was made Diluc ran at you giving you a good hit in the chest. You returned the gesture by kicking him in the leg sending him down on one knee. This battle went back and forth, over, and over, and over again. One minute you would have the upperhand, the next he would have the upper hand. About what felt like hours (which was actually just 15 minutes) you won the battle pinning Diluc to the ground with your leg against his back holding his hands bound behind his back.

“Okay! I yield! I yield! You win!” He yells from underneath you with heavy breath and an annoyed tone.

You stood up walking away from the man and standing with the rest of the soldiers. Diluc is surprised by you being able to defeat him, you could clearly tell that he’s pissed about it and that thought brings you joy.

An hour later; The prince is currently taking a nice bath as he washes off the residue from training, you are standing outside the curtain, listening in on him washing, scrubbing, wiping, whatever a prince does in a shower.

You continue to listen in on him scrubbing away until it stops…

Nothing…

Absolute silence as you wait for the prince to say something, you begin to get worried. Even if it’s the prince you couldn’t help but take a peek just to make sure that the prince is okay, but then you see him, naked, and standing there… staring.

“Ah, so the personal guard has interests?~” He says in a teasing manner as you quickly close the curtain, a crimson hue appears on your face as he walks towards you, he opens the curtain, widely  to show the prince standing there… Naked

“My apologies prince, you had me worried for a second there.” You try to explain but it seems that Diluc doesn’t believe you, you can hear him chuckle a little bit with the same teasing tone.

“Are you sure, cause… your cheeks sure do say otherwise.” He says in a teasing manner, suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer and through the curtain into the bathroom as you feel another hand on your face forcing you to gently look behind to, seeing Diluc with wet hair forces more blush into your cheeks basically turning you into a tomato of sorts.

You notice a sly smirk on his face as he pulls you closer, even through the thick leather you’re wearing you can feel his wet skin against you. As you stare deeply into his eyes you notice something there, not the usual spark of hate you had been used to, not the hint of boredom he usually had when you two were alone. It’s something new, something you thought you would never see, not when he’s looking at you anyways, the longer you stared, the more you noticed. It was, Lust?  

Yes, it is, lust in the eyes of a prince? That couldn’t be, he hates you, despises you, how could a prince like Diluc have lust for a soldier? It’s against the royal code, against all rules, against the whole royal family line… But it’s there, and you know it.

As Diluc begins to lead you backwards still holding you by the waist, without warning he turns your face back kissing you passionately. You had no time to react, not time to stop him, but then you noticed it… *Are you enjoying this? No, no, you can’t, this is against all moral code, against what being a soldier is about*. Half way through contemplating your life choices you feel Diluc slip his tongue into your mouth tasting yours, you couldn’t help but let out a low groan at the taste and the feeling.

Diluc pulls you back by the waist slowly bringing you closer to him as you feel his naked, et chest press against your back. His every touch on you sends a chill down your spine. Without warning he turns your head back to face him as he kisses you passionately before trailing down from your lips to your neck and so on to your collarbone. You can feel his lips on your skin as he begins to leave hickeys every here and there.

As Diluc breaks the kiss looking at you with a chuckle, you can see the need in his eyes, the want he has. “I see you enjoyed that.~” He says with another tease before kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, tasting every inch of your mouth earning another low groan from you.

Half way through the kiss you feel something running up your thigh, something warm, something soft. The kiss is interrupted by a sharp breath in as you feel something on your crotch, holding it, rubbing it through your pants as you moan deeply into Diluc’s mouth. Diluc breaks the kiss letting out a low chuckle as he looks at you deeply in the eyes. As the feeling of his hand continues to massage your crotch rubbing up and down forcing a few low moans out of your mouth.

“I see you like it.” Diluc whispers into your ear in a low seductive tone as he continues to rub against your crotch.

Out of nowhere you feel his hand slip into your pants slowly pulling them down as you watch with heavy breath, the red returns to your cheeks as you feel his hand make their way to your skin. You can feel Diluc’s breath against your ear, your heart beating faster with each stroke of his hand.

“Ah!~♡♡” You let out a sudden moan as you notice his hand wrap around your dick moving up and down slowly.

You can still feel his breath against your ear as he lets out a low chuckle, then moving his hand slightly faster earning more and more moans from you. Half way through the ‘session’ he pulls your face to look at him as he kisses you passionately still rubbing your crotch and making your knees shaky. Your moans muffled into his mouth as hand continues to move faster and faster on your cock. Soon you eventually came all over the floor and his hand as you pulled away from the kiss throwing your head back onto his shoulder letting out a final goran. Diluc looks down at his hand covered in hot cum and sweat before he looks back up at you with a low chuckle.

“You took that so well.” He whispers into your ear leaving a slight kiss, you begin to take this chance to catch your breath and your heart.

You are then forced to turn over facing him as he pulls you closer for a kiss teasing your dick in the process. You begin to feel him removing your shirt now undoing it button by button and peeling it off, pulling one arm out of each sleeve at a time eventually completely taking your shirt off. Diluc then begins to kiss your neck and leaves a few love bites going down to your shoulder, getting elicit whimpers from your mouth, trying so hard not to moan loudly.

Diluc begins to lead you out of the bathroom he drags you to the bed pushing you down and laying you out now completely undressed, as he trails his kisses back upwards meeting your lips.

As Diluc continues to kiss you passionately he brings you legs up still rubbing lightly against your dick, halfway through this process you notice another feeling, despite him rubbing against you in such a way bringing you close to ecstasy. You notice his hands travel towards your ass until he circles it with his thumb “ahh look at your pretty little ass” he says You get a hard shock on your ass as you realise he just slapped your ass leaving a red hand mark on it. “♡A-ahh♡♡!!~” A loud moan escapes your lips as you feel the sharp feeling of pain mixed with pleasure. “hmm i didn't know that my little knight was a slut.” Diluc whispers into your ear as he gives you another hard slap on the ass, probably now leaving a bruise.

Diluc walks to his Vanity and gets a jar of Aloe vera (that he uses for his hair Normally) he walks back to the bed putting the aloe vera in his night stand. His dick was 5 inches, he started to rub his cock and now it's rising  it's about 6 inches fully hard. 

Diluc leaned down to rub your dick with one of his hands and his other and started to circle around your small virgin hole “♡A-ah♡♡!~” You let out a whimper as you feel his fingers enter your hole, stretching it out just a bit. After he takes out his finger and puts some Aloe vera and uses it as a Lube, he continues to push his fingers in and out as you moan. Feeling his fingers begin to go deeper into you, reaching as far as his finger can go.Then he adds a Second You can feel his fingers pushing in and pulling out causing you to bend forward arching your back allowing Diluc more access to your asshole. 

He adds a Third finger and he slides his fingers up and down Over, and over, and over again pushing into your asshole and pulling out forcing moans out of you as you are forced to cover your mouth in order to stay quiet.

You let out a low groan at the feeling of Diluc removing his fingers from your ass. You then notice that his dick is hard and it’s obvious. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain as Diluc slips his dick inside you stretching your tiny hole.

You can hear a few low groans from him as he lets you adjust to his size for a couple of seconds. Soon he begins to thrust into you slowly, he gradually fastens his pace, he begins to build up his speed and over and over earning a few moans along the way. As he continues to thrust into you, you begin to moan louder and louder with every thrust eventually forcing the prince to cover your mouth.

“Shh. We don’t want anyone to find out now do we.” Diluc whispers into your ear as he continues to thrust into you faster, and faster, stretching out your hole to its limits as he lets out a few low groans. A few tears fall down your cheeks, as he continues to thrust into you faster and faster eliciting multiple gasps and whines out of you. High pitch squeals and heavy breaths escape your mouth at the feeling of his massive cock inside you.You then feel something warm and slimy enter your hole as Diluc cums into you leaving his cum and some of your blood all over your now stretched hole. As he begins to catch his own breath, he lets out a satisfied grunt as he falls beside you lying on the bed heaving and satisfied before reaching over to you for a warm kiss as he pulls you closer 

. ”Hmm, is my little knight satisfied?” Diluc said pulling out of your ass, your legs were kinda sore so you stayed lying down ;Diluc went back to the bathroom. When he came out he has a  towel wrapped around his waist to cover his complexion and a damp towel that was put into some warm water to clean you up. 

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

lazy power bottom raphael & anal fingering/handjobs

Read on AO3

-

Her entrance into his office was unceremonious. The devil sat squinting at old scrolls, looking up at her through his pretty lashes when she stood in front of his desk.

“I don't recall requesting to see you,” he said, his tone neutral. Tav was about to take a monumental risk, but she was still riding the high of her recent piece of freedom. Her magic was slowly returning - helped along by the fragments of his power Raphael was sharing - and it felt a little like the soft afterglow of an orgasm. A good orgasm. Constant. Tav hadn't felt alive like this in a very long time. She kept flexing her fingers and toes; he noticed, but didn't comment. 

“I want to talk to you,” she said simply. 

He was quiet for a minute. Digesting her behavior, and how he was going to manage it. Otherwise his expression was impossible to read. “Then talk.”

It was here, Tav knew, that she had to tread carefully. If she got this right, Raphael would be in her hands - as much as a devil like him ever could be - and she would be the closest to real freedom she'd been…likely since before her cursed magic ever even began to manifest. A depressing thought, but one she didn't linger on. 

“I'd like you to stop having sex with Haarlep,” she said. Instantly she could tell it hadn't been what he was expecting her to say. The surprise on his handsome face would've been comical if she wasn't balancing the certainty of her future on the outcome of this conversation. He wasn't surprised for long. He put down the scroll he was reading, planted his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together, where he rested his chin. He looked at her very much like a boarding school headmaster, both entertained and irritated by an unruly child's audacious behavior. Like it amused him to watch someone so beneath him attempt to display authority, but when the novelty wore off he'd get angry.

“Why should I do that?” He drawled. He was humouring her, Tav knew, because he was curious. Just as she'd hoped. “What makes you think you can tell me to do anything?”

“I can't,” Tav shrugged, “I know I can't. But if you want to keep having sex with me, Haarlep has to be out of the picture - or out of your bed, at least.”

“You're giving me an ultimatum? How cute,” Raphael cooed. That he hadn't incinerated her on the spot was an indication of his piqued interest. “I knew you held distaste for my incubus, but I had no idea it ran so deep.”

“This has nothing to do with me not liking Haarlep,” Tav countered. That was mostly the truth. She absently touched the ugly scarring on her naked throat. She'd wear that collar forever, it seemed, one way or another. Raphael's clever gaze followed her. “I don't share my sexual partners, that's all. Not by choice, anyway, and choice is something you said you'd let me have, at least when it comes to this. Unless you're going back on your word…”

“I am not,” the devil growled; his tone suggested he might like to. “Though you'd do well to make sure you don't mistake my clemency for complacency, songbird. Unless you'd like to find out what happens to people who do.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“I'm sure.” Raphael narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down from her bare feet to the crown of her head. Tav did her best not to shift, to remain confident against his scrutiny. His next words were blunt. “Why should I choose you over an incubus I've kept for centuries? A creature perfectly attuned to my body, my desires? One who cannot and will not say no to anything I want to do to them?”

At last it was the moment for Tav to make her case. To admit a truth aloud to herself and to the devil who stole her away from a personal hell far worse than Avernus, or any other layer of Hell.

“Because I want you, Raphael. I want you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night in your chambers, the way you looked underneath me as everything else burned…it's driving me crazy. I know it was good for you, too. I can't give you the same precision and experience as Haarlep, but…maybe I can give you something better.”

Raphael's eyes darkened as she spoke, his pupils expanding to swallow the orange of his irises. His countenance changed, even if his placid expression hadn't. It was a subtle shift, but one Tav had become attuned to as she learned him, his mannerisms and habits.

“I must admit, the smell of fire has held quite a…scintillating sentiment for me these past few days,” he said. “Ah, what a delightful impulse buy you've turned out to be…”

Tav felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. There was the caveat. A bitter reminder that she was still infernal property, no matter how well he treated her. She couldn't believe it. In the heat of passion, she'd almost allowed herself to forget. This wasn't about sex, or lust. It was Hell's oldest game: manipulation. If she had fun in the meantime, all the better, but she wouldn't again forget why she was doing this. Her flames were not doused, but tempered.

“So, are my terms acceptable?” Tav pressed. Crossed her arms over her chest. Leaned her weight on one hip.

“That depends, dearest.” The devil did so love negotiations. “If I were to relinquish my, shall we say, dalliances with Haarlep and share myself only with you…my little songbird, my sweet pet…” Tav's breath caught. Those words affected her more than she thought. Raphael smiled. “What would that mean?”

Hook. Line. Time for the sinker.

“Let me show you,” she murmured. “Right here, right now. If you're good for it.”

The devil was deeply entertained, that much was obvious. He clicked his fingers and Tav heard his office doors close and lock. “Hmm… What will you have me do now, pet?”

“Bend over the desk. Clothes off. Please.”

For a moment, he did nothing. His silent stare had weight. Tav wondered if this was the point of no return, if she'd found the line and crossed it. If he was testing her mettle, her conviction, to see if she would falter. If he was simply stunned that she believed she could speak to him that way, that she believed he would actually obey. 

Just when Tav thought he wouldn't, when the moment had stretched beyond uncomfortable and she'd almost given into the urge to squirm, Raphael did what she asked. The thrill Tav experienced was substantial. He stood. A simple click and he cleared the surface of his desk; another and he was naked, thick muscles, prominent veins and ribbed cherry-red skin on show, lightly dusted with patches of dark hair. He was softer around the middle than Haarlep's display, and Tav much preferred it. Raphael’s handsome cock was already beginning to fill, his dark pink glans peeking out from beneath his foreskin. He could play at aloofness all he wanted, but his body would always give him away. Still, he was a devil of pride, and there was nothing but smug superiority in the way he positioned himself; forearms braced on the desk, back bent, ass up. His tail swung lazily to-and-fro. He reminded her of his incubus like this, but - and she'd never tell him this - Tav thought he pulled off the seduction much better.

“Well, my songbird,” he purred, equal parts an invitation and a challenge. “Here I am. Show me how you want me.”

As she approached, Tav wished she could hate him the way she hated all other fiends and devils alike. He made it impossible, and that was infuriating, because it complicated so many things. She wished he repulsed her as Lyuris had, but she found Raphael's hellish features quite beautiful. She'd been certain there was nothing beautiful in Hell, but as she smoothed her hands over Raphael's hot skin and he made a quiet noise of approval…

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Remember why you're doing this.

He was so much larger than her, but like this, she could reach the parts of him she wanted much easier. Her touch drifted over his broad shoulders and down the column of his spine. At its base her fingertips flirted briefly with where his tail sprouted; the skin was baby soft on its underside and Raphael seemed to like being touched there, if the gentle “ah!” he released meant anything. He seemed to like being touched everywhere. Things between he and Haarlep were transactions, Tav had realised, but the devil’s appetite wasn't just for sex. He hungered for touch, warm and given willingly. Affection of the basest kind, as so many devils secretly and selfishly did. Something a demon would never understand. That was how she'd get him.

Tav squeezed his backside in both hands. He had a nice ass. She felt down lower to find his balls, smiling at the way he instantly spread his thighs to allow her access. His sack was hot and heavy in her palm, too big to properly hold. She kneaded what she could instead, firm testes inside rolling against his scrotum's thin, smooth skin. She tugged them gently. Raphael groaned, deep and throaty. Tav's deft fingers slid between his buttocks, parting them enough to feel the twitching velvet of his hairless puckered hole. He inhaled sharply when she rested her thumb on it but made no move to stop her. In fact, he lifted his tail and presented himself further.

“Oil?” She asked. Raphael clicked his fingers once more and a little bottle appeared on his desk. Stroking his hole, savouring his anticipatory twitches, Tav used her free hand to pop the lid from the bottle and scent its contents. “Mm, palmarosa. Smells good.”

“They do know how to make fine things in Waterdeep,” said the devil, distractedly. “If you're willing to shell out substantial gold, of course…ahhh…” 

“Of course.” As he spoke, Tav poured a generous helping of the oil on her fingers, and slowly pushed her slick thumb past the tight ring of his anus. The heat and squeeze of his slippery insides was amazing.

“Is that it? More,” Raphael snarled, impatiently pressing into her hand. “What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing at all.”

Her index finger, then her middle, joined her thumb. Experience told her how to twist them, where to rub, when to scissor. Experimentation would tell her where his prostate was, but until then he was enjoying himself anyway. His head dropped forward, clipped moans escaping him as he tried to fuck himself on her fingers, tried to get more friction, more more more.

“Another,” he demanded raspily, “give me another. Harder.”

“As you wish…master.” She said it purely for the shudder that ran through him, for the way he clenched around her fingers, but Tav would be lying if she said it didn't affect her, too. If she looked down, she could see his clawed toes curling. Her ring finger slipped into his ass, her pinky thumping his perineum with each harsh thrust and rub she gave him. The wet noises and her devil's grunts were obscene.

“Yes…nngh, good pet…such a good pet,” Raphael uttered, unable to stop talking even with four fingers up his ass. “So eager to please me…that's it, yes. Like that…”

With her free hand, Tav reached around to grab his cock, fully erect and leaking precum. To do it, she had to press herself flush against him, the backs of his thighs scorching the fronts of hers through the thin dress she wore. She couldn't resist dropping open-mouthed kisses on his flesh. He tasted of sweat and spice, and the strange ridges of his infernal anatomy felt like soft cartilage in her mouth. He sighed so sweetly when she sucked on them. Her fingers on his cock squeezed and stroked, her intent to reach his glans and smear his precum around for lubricant, but Raphael snatched that hand and brought it to his face. His forked tongue - that dangerous thing of pure silver -  licked up the length of her palm and lathered her digits with hot spit, and when he deemed them sufficiently sloppy, he put them right back on his aching prick.

“Fuck,” Tav cursed breathlessly, resting her cheek between his wing joints for a moment. Heart in her throat, blood roaring in her ears, cunt slick. 

Remember. 

The devil chuckled, but it quickly dissolved into a low, rumbling moan when she made a narrow cage of her hand for him to fuck, to rut and rub his prick into like an animal; and that was exactly what he did, rolling his hips to alternate between pleasuring his cock and spearing himself on her fingers in his ass. Tav felt every flex of his spine, felt every drag of his foreskin and swollen vein and ridge on his cock, felt every clench and spasm of his rectum. Felt it when she found the spot she'd been looking for, soft and spongy beneath her fingertips. The sound Raphael let out as his big body jerked bordered on inhuman; his claws scratched at the wood of his desk, his wings flexed, his tail thrashed.

“There,” he hissed, “right there.”

Tav kissed and bit him as she ruthlessly worked his prostate. He barely noticed, his rutting becoming feverish, snarls and growls mixing with wet gasps, fast and shallow. His cock stiffening further, balls tight, Tav knew he was about to come. She awaited it with vicious satisfaction, wishing only that she could see his face as he unraveled, if his sharp features would twist as lovely as they did the night she rode him in flames. 

He finished with a shudder, a guttural choked groan, his head lolled back, wings spread wide. His inner muscles fruitlessly milked her fingers, his fat cock spurting ropes of hot cum all over her knuckles, his chest, the desk. His claws had dug deep gouges in the wood. In the aftermath he quivered, panting. Tav felt as though she couldn't catch her breath, either. Her forehead rested once again between his wing joints where she stayed, still holding his softening cock. It took effort not to sigh with him as she pulled out, giving his hole - bereft, wet, winking - one final gentle rub. Her wrist ached, her cunt ached, her heart ached (but only a little). 

[alotofpockets]

Becoming a family | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: "I have a key, it's not breaking in."

Summary: When your best friend gets pregnant and her boyfriend leaves her for it, you step up and help her take care of the baby. A/n: This might be the longest fic I've ever written, but I love it so much. It has a lot of time jumps because it tells a story over the span of like 3-4 years. I hope you all enjoy the read!

masterlist | requests: closed | words: 2050

Wanda came to you first when she found out that she was pregnant. She was scared to tell her boyfriend Vision because they were both only 22 and they had never really talked about the topic of kids yet. You reassured her that whatever would happen, that you would be there to support her through it all.

About a week later you opened you door to your best friend crying on your doorstep. You let her in and comforted her. “He said he is not ready to have kids and then he just left me. Like he broke up with me right after I told him.” You and Wanda had made a deal years ago that you would support each other no matter what choices the other made. But after just hearing he just left your pregnant best friend like that, you told her how you thought he had never treater her right and that she deserves so much better.

You put on one of Wanda’s comfort movies while you got some blankets and order her favorite food. Without communicating it Wanda knew you were letting her stay at your place tonight. Halfway through the movie Wanda paused it and turned to you with tears in her eyes. “I can’t do this alone. I can’t raise a baby on my own.”

“Like I said last week, I will support you through it all. You are not alone, you’ve got me. And it is fully your decision what you’re going to do, but either way I will be there every step of the way.” You try reassuring her. “Thank you, y/n, that means a lot.” She turned back to the TV and played the rest of the movie.

In the following weeks you and Wanda got a lot of books on pregnancy and parenthood. Reading up on everything, since neither one of you knew much on the topic as the closest thing to it you had experienced was babysitting. You also got rid of all of Visions stuff together since it was a heard process for Wanda to do alone.

On one of your days off you picked up a crib and some stuff that would have to be assembled for the nursery. Wanda had decided on some stuff she wanted or would like to have in the nursery. You wanted to surprise her with a few things off her list and get it all set up to take it off of her plate.

With your key for emergencies, you entered her apartment, carried the boxes inside and went to work. You have the crib and a dresser build when you hear Wanda come home. Since the nursery is a separate room in the home, you went to great her, as to not scare her when she hears a sudden noise coming from the room. “Hey Wands, how was work?” You ask when you join her in the living room. She looks at you confused, “Why did you break into my house?” With a chuckle you say, "I have a key, it's not breaking in." While jingling the key in front of you. “But if you’d like the reason to the why part, you need to close your eyes and follow me.”

Wanda closed her eyes, and you led her to the nursery by her hands. “Open them.” You say. She opens then and tears start filling her eyes immediately. It’s the hormones that are making her so emotional, is what she tells you each time she cries. “I love it. You didn’t have to do that.” You shake your head, “I know, but I wanted too. This kid is going to be very loved and that starts with getting their room ready.”

Eight weeks into her pregnancy Wanda has her first doctors appointment. You were joining her and seeing the tiny little baby for the first time. The doctor was doing the ultrasounds, showing on the screen what everything was when all of a sudden he stopped talking and started moving around the transductor around. Wanda met your eyes worriedly, you squeezed her hand while you both waited for the doctor to speak. “There!” He says, pointing to something on the screen. “Do you see that?” When you both nod, still confused to what’s happening he tells you what’s on the screen. “This here is the baby and then here is baby number two. Wanda you are having twins.”

Wanda’s mouth falls open, ‘twins’ keep echoing in her head. “I’ll give you two a moment.” The doctor says and leaves the room. “I guess I should pick up another crib, huh?” You joke, not realizing Wanda is still in shock. “I’m barely convinced I can take care of one baby, how am I going to be able to take care of two?” Wanda says. “What if I moved in? Ill be there to take care of the babies with you.”

After that appointment you and Wanda sat down to see what would be best for the babies. You decided moving into your apartment would be more practical since yours was bigger and therefor had an extra room. And that way Wanda would also not have to be surrounded by the memories of Vision. The next week you started moving Wanda’s stuff into your apartment, with the help with some of your friends and family.

In the following months the house started to feel more like a shared space. Wanda’s room feeling like her own and a mix of both your decoration around the house. You worked together on making a beautiful nursery of the room that had once been your office space. Setting up two cribs, a closet, and a changing table among other decorative pieces. The room was coming along nicely.

A week before the due date a very pregnant Wanda stood in the kitchen looking for something she wanted to eat, while you were doing the final round of baby clothes washing, which you learned was necessary from one of those practical baby books. You just got the laundry from the machine when you heard Wanda call out for you. “Y/n, come here quick!”

You rushed to the kitchen and found Wanda standing there looking at the floor with wide eyes. “My water just broke.” You excitedly said, “Omg it’s happening!” You rushed to the nursery to grab the baby and hospital bag and then led Wanda to the car.

That day Wanda gave birth to two beautiful boys. Their names were Billy and Tommy Maximoff. You were sitting in Wanda’s room at the hospital, making sure she had everything she needed. But all she needed was to have you around. Then a nurse came in with two little beds, “They’re all checked out for now, miss Maximoff, you have two very healthy baby boys.”

When the nurse walked out of the room, you gently picked up one of the babies holding him shortly before handing him over to Wanda and picking up the other to hold yourself. They were perfect. After holding the boys for a bit, you switch and after some more time holding them, you put them back into their little beds. “Are you ready for some visitors, Wands?” You had texted Pietro right before you got into the car and asked him if he could notify the rest of your and Wanda’s friends.

You walked out of the room and into the waiting room where you were met with your friends eagerly waiting to meet the new additions to their lives. “There are two beautiful, healthy baby boys ready to meet you all. And one very proud but tired mom ready for some company.”

The group followed you to the room where you introduced the boy to their new family, “Billy and Tommy these are your aunts and uncles, we have Uncle Pietro, Auntie Nat, Aunt Yelena, Uncle Clint and Aunt Kate and they all can’t wait to meet you.” They had each decided what they wanted to be named and you thought it was adorable. What you didn’t see was Wanda looking at you with adoration in her eyes. She was so thankful for you being here with her, through everything. Natasha noticed the way Wanda had looked your way and made a mental note to ask Wanda about it later.

Bringing the boys home and starting this life with them had all been incredible. Your friends helped out as much as they could. Meaning the boys had their family over very often, Wanda was so appreciative of everyone showing up for her and her boys like this. Everyone made her feel like she truly wasn’t raising the boys alone.

On a Sunday afternoon when you and Yelena were putting the boys away for a nap, Natasha saw her opportunity to ask Wanda about the look she witnessed at the hospital. “So, Wanda, how has living with y/n been so far?” Natasha saw the woman’s eyes light up at the mention of your name, which was all she needed to know that Wanda had feelings for you. “It’s been amazing. It’s great having around more and she is incredible with the boys.” Natasha chuckles, “And you’re in love with her.” Natasha adds. Wanda’s eyes widen, “Shh, she’s right in the room next door.” Natasha smirks, “Interesting response.” Natasha manages to say before you and Yelena walk back into the living room.

Then months later you and Wanda have fully gotten used to a life with two little ones and were enjoying it to the fullest. Billy and Tommy brought a light to your lives, that no one could have prepared you for, the love you felt for these boys like they were your own felt incredible. Wanda’s feelings for you only increased the more she was around you, but she didn’t want to ruin what you guys had now. So, she hadn’t told you about how she feels towards you.

Billy and Tommy had both started saying their first words. Billy’s first word was mommy, which made Wanda overjoyed. And Tommy’s first word he wanted to share with the world was banana, making you both laugh. He must have a favorite food.

A little after the twins their second birthday Wanda was making dinner in the kitchen while watching you play with the boys in the living room. That’s when she heard Tommy say, “Mama, mama, look!” before he did a silly dance. Tommy wasn’t looking to get her attention though. He had called you mama. When you just smiled at the boy and started dancing with him, Wanda knew she had to tell you how she felt.

So, after she had brought the twins to bed, she sat you down. “Can we talk?” She had asked, “Of course, what’s up Wands?” Wanda seemed nervous, which wasn’t like the Wanda you knew. “So, earlier I overheard Tommy call you mama.” You hadn’t realized hearing that had troubled Wanda, “Oh Wanda, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would bother you, next time I will correct him.”

Wanda put her hand down on your knee, “No, no, that’s not it. Quite the opposite actually.” Wanda’s hand on your knee gave you butterflies in your stomach. “Y/n, you mean everything, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin our friendship. But hearing Tommy say that made me realize that after all these years I just have to tell you, because I want you to be Tommy’s mama and Billy’s of course. Because y/n I love you, and.” You stopped Wanda’s rambling by kissing her. Your hand moved to the nape of her neck, pulling her in closer. When you felt her smile into the kiss, you did the same. When you pulled away for air you said, “I love you too Wanda, and I have since the first month I have known you. I’d love to be Billy and Tommy’s mama, but there’s one question left to ask first. Wands, do you want to be my girlfriend?” Wanda excitedly said yes.

And that’s how you officially became a family after all these years. Though in your hearts you will always count those first two years just the same. You were a family then and you would be a family for the rest of your lives.

~

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[lamnwar]

KNB boys getting caught with their s/o? Specifically Kagami, Kise and Aomine.

getting caught doing what hm? 🤨 jk jk!! that's a very fun request I really enjoyed writing these hcs so thanks for the request babe 💕💕 (also sorry took me so long but coming from me are we surprised lmao)

MDNI 18+

GETTING CAUGHT // KNB Headcanons

Context: what if you and your boyfriend get caught in action, huh? All characters are aged-up for plot purposes (18+).

Pairings: Kagami + Kise + Aomine x gn! Reader

Warnings: nsfw (obviously 😭)! mention of sex (penetrative and oral), exhibitionism, public sex (kinda), more crack than sexy tbh but still!

KAGAMI

Ok first, let's preface by saying that it really is not like Taiga to take the risk of having sex when he knows you guys might get caught

He really tries his best to conceal his needs till you can find a place with enough intimacy to proceed

But sometimes, he really can't help it, you know?

And it's kinda on you for tempting him too! You know the guy gets riled up easily so maybe you did it on purpose now... didn't you?

(In other words, it's a 100% your fault oops)

Anyways, long story short, you got him so turned on that he had no choice but to drag you to the closest room with the very clear intent of being burried deep inside you

He's midway through restlessly thrusting into your tight little hole and he's so lost on the feeling that he doesn't even realize how loud the both of you are

There could be a whole party going down, y'all would still be heard

And it doesn't take long for someone to walk in on you bend forward, Kagami's fat cock drilling into you with so much fervour

Neither of you realizes that someone's there till they make themselves heard

A string of "oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry!!" getting the both of you to look at the door with wide eyes

And Kagami is so stunned on the moment to even think

Under the surprise, his first reflex is to hide his dick completely inside you, getting a surprised yelp out of your mouth

And when it hits that you guys got caught, he goes flushed red

Given that the person catching you isn't a perv, they close the door rapidly after but Kagami is still under total shock

He doesn't move for a while, and you have to bring him back to Earth

So here you are, Taiga's dick deep in your guts, trying to move to get him to react or something

"Uh... Taiga? What-"

When he finally snaps out of it, he hurrily gets out of you, quite to your displeasure though

And it's when you grab him and pull him back to you that he realizes that you have no intention to stop, despite getting caught

"They already know anyways, doesn't change a thing"

KISE

Definitely the one that got you in that situation in the first place

LISTEN there's no way he's not gonna use his charms to get you to follow him in his ministrations

So he just had to bat his pretty eyelashes and tell you the right words for you to accept the position you're currently in

Meaning split in half by Kise, as he lets out the prettiest moans ever, like there's not a whole crowd on the over side of the wall

It doesn't take long for people to notice what you two are doing

But that doesn't stop Kise, oh no haha

He's a showman of sorts, so it doesn't bother him that to the surrounding, it is clear as day that he's fucking you senseless

Only when someone actually shows up to tell you to stop does he care

And not because he minds being seen in such position

Mainly because you seem very embarrassed that you've got caught

Kise would argue that you are at your hottest when your face's flushed, hair disheveled, body contorsioned to accomodate him in between your thighs, but that's Kise's very biased opinion

To a stranger, it's a rather scandalous sight so it's very likely that you'll hate being in such predicament

Lucky for you, Kise talks the way out of trouble for the two of you

But you still urge him to leave the place and go to somewhere we're it's actually acceptable to have sex

(He loves you so much and is so needy for you though, he can't even stand the drive back home, he'll go back deep into you in the car itself <3)

AOMINE

Alright for this one, if you're wondering how you ended up having public sex, the answer is rather simple

Daiki and you are just super horny and can't keep it in your pants (sorry 😔)

It's really in the heat of the moment y'all figured that nothing mattered

Not even the fact that you're giving him head in a very public space

He's just so tempting, you know!!

And he's been looking at your lips for the past hour, so you should have known that he'd end up begging for you to suck his dick

So you just found the first place where you could get on your knees and didn't hesitate twice before getting him out of his pants

Now here you are, sloppily giving him the best head of his life with a bunch of strangers around

I'd like to say that neither of you are exhibitionist but this situation is somewhat super hot

(Again, y'all are just super horny)

Anyways, doesn't take long for you two to get caught and nearly cause a heart attack to whoever sees you

Thing is!! Aomine has no intention to stop

You neither, by the way

You're both on a mission to make him cum so you're not stopping

Instead, you pick up the pace, till he finally snaps and cum down your throat

Swallowing it all because you shouldn't leave any trace!

Once that's done, you do apologize to your surrounding

Takes a couple of hours for you two to realize what you've done and that it's lowkey a public offense

Promise that it won't happen again but Aomine really can't help wanting you anytime and anywhere :)

[snaggie-t00th]

SURPRISE SHAWTYYY

secondest one shot ever. echo's been growing on me recently icl y'all.

Brake Check

gif credit :)

rating/cw: teen, irl swears/star wars swearing, vague mentions of drugs, canon violence

3.6k words, gender neutral pronouns, zero use of y/n

i might keep this one going if i think up anything else. may or may not be based on my experiences at my own gig.

reblogs are always appreciated :)

The sun shone fiercely over the city, baking the industrial landscape in amber and gold. It was the closest that the durasteel and brick would ever get to being a part of nature, and in a way, the old buildings seemed thankful. Thankful to be unmoving against the planet’s own turmoil. To stand straight, stiff, and unforgiving against the gales that whipped through the streets like wind tunnels.

You very much wish you could be a building right now.

Contrasting to your surroundings, you were very much bothered by the sun in your eyes and wind in your hair. You squinted and kept a hand over your eyes as you puttered through the streets, gauging movement and distance by the tiled stonework on the ground. Your hair whipped at the corners of your face, always just out of reach when you went to swipe them away, giving way to a mood that the sun beating down on your neck was not helping.

Just a few more paces, a lock, and an alarm. You thought to yourself, mentally calibrating for the tasks following.

You were opening your store. At least, that’s what you’d tell anyone if they bothered asking. In reality, you were opening a store you were hired to manage. You were hired as a friendly, trustworthy face that was more or less just responsible for making sure nothing got stolen. The real owner, on the other hand, rarely could bother to make an appearance. So, by all customer accounts, it’s your store. The thought of this brought warmth to your chest.

Pride, albeit in fake ownership, but pride in your work nonetheless.

You found yourself at the front of the store. Large, ornate marble slabs stacked up to the door. Marble steps that were once a hallmark of the city, that dotted every home, now lay cracked, chipped, and closer to oyster gray than marble white.

You trudged to the front glass door. Opening it with a whine, the door found purchase on your hip as you flipped the plastic door sign to “Open”. You glance over at the keypad, and punch in your door code - 0501.

Immediately upon stepping into the small, darkened room, you’re greeted with shrill chirps. The piercing tones shot through the still air and bounced off the walls.

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’m coming.” You gripe, talking to the ancient security system that by no means would actually respond. You walk towards the corner of the small shop, eyeing a white panel with a dimly lit green screen. You grimace as you punch in your security code, trying not to become overstimulated by the alarm.

“Disarmed. Ready to arm.” A feminine robotic voice declares, and you hum in content as you turn around and begin to open up your store.

Flip those lights, plug that in, unlock the window guard, count the cash.

The mental list flashed through your mind, though it was almost immediately pushed out by a myriad of other thoughts. Your mind was abuzz, just like any other day. You glanced around at the small, cramped storefront. Your eyes raked the shelves, not looking for anything in particular, simply cataloging with your eyes. Your store sold mainly spaceship parts, among other things; though judging by the dust collecting on the deflector shield projectors, you’d almost be led to believe that no one on the planet had even scraped the sky.

You rounded a counter to make way to the register. The counter was an upside down L-shape, clear glass panes encasing a durasteel frame with sliding doors on the seller side. A smaller, similar-yet-straight case sat parallel on the right, making a perfect little square entrance for you to swing around. Such large display pieces seemed comically out of place in the small store front, as they essentially divided the room in half. Inside, the three rows that spanned the length of each side of the L were cluttered. Cluttered with trinkets that toppled over one another, as well as a handful of dubiously legal recreational products and their respective accessories. Those, along with the cigarettes in cartons behind you, were probably the only reason the lights above you were even on, albeit flickering occasionally and making a rather unfortunate buzz. You shook your head, and unlocked the small, dingy cash register in front of you.

Methodically counting cash, your eyes wandered to the bay window at the front of the store. Outside of it laid sun-bleached stone streets, with few inhabitants venturing out this early in the morning. Those that did, moved sluggishly from the heat or in a feeble attempt to resist it. Most of them looked familiar, usually having come in and bought something in the past. Or the odd few who follow a stricter morning routine than you do, seeing them stroll by every morning since you’d arrived however many cycles ago.

Same old, same old, huh? You thought to yourself. Monotony creeps up on the best of us, I suppose. You silently laugh to yourself, a quick huff of air leaving your nose.

As if the universe was listening in on your internal monologue, a speeder comes careening down the block, the engine body screaming as the bike chewed through the brake disks like meringue. Atop this banshee was a young girl, cream blonde hair whipping behind her as she screamed with delight. You had hoped it was delight at least, though you’d never heard someone giggling with fear. Immediately following her was another speeder, albeit in much less disarray and in much more control. The pilot was a tall, slender, pale man with some form of plating on his head, covering his ears.

“Omega, you HAVE to brake before you turn, you can’t just hit every corner like Tech does!” The man called out, though it was muffled from the glass.

You placed the cash back in the register and paced towards the door. Curiosity was your main driving factor, although if something happened to a child and you didn’t do anything… Well, you were sure your brain wouldn’t let you live it down.

You cracked the large door and peered out through the smaller glass door in front of it. You breathed out in relief, not realizing you were holding it in, as you saw the girl almost entirely unharmed.

“Echo, I’m fine! Plus, you said it yourself before we grabbed them that they looked like ‘hunks of junk’.” The girl made air quotes at her companion to emphasize her point. He, presumably named Echo, sighs in response, barely audible through the door but recognizable by the way his shoulders slumped. You couldn’t see it, as his back was to you, but the clone took his one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Wait, one hand?

You had seen your fair share of clones, both on your home planet and where you now found yourself. However, with his back to you, and with your eyes zeroing in on his scomp, you were none the wiser of the man outside your shop’s origins, other than his name probably being Echo.

The girl, which you assumed was named Omega, noticed you standing in your doorway.

“Maybe we can ask them for help” She spoke aloud, looking past her companion to look directly at you. You respond in part by opening the door and poking your head out.

“So, you crash in front of stores often?” You call out to the girl, smiling softly. Her companion turns around at the sound of your voice.

Hello there.

The man, now recognizable to you as a clone, was much more muscular than you had anticipated. With broad shoulders causing his pauldrons to peek out just a hair more. His hair was a buzz cut, the deep blue-black hue of his just-barely-there hair contrasting against his pale skin.

He waved his hand at you.

“I’m trying to not let her make it a habit but someone was recently taught what drifting was. Do you happen to sell speeder parts?” He punctuated his statement with a playful jab to the girl’s ribs, which elicited a giggle.

“As long as you don’t mind wiping dust off of them, I’m sure I can find something for y’all.” You replied, and you stepped out on the porch to open the door and let the two in. They quickly followed suit and headed towards you.

“I’m Omega by the way, and this is my big brother Echo.” The girl chirped as she walked by.

You smiled and gave your name in response. “Pleasure, it’s been a while since I’ve had real customers”.

“What’s a real customer?” She said, spinning around to look back at you once she filed into the small room.

“Someone actually buying parts, instead of what’s in the case.” You reply, as you turn your back and begin parsing the shelves for speeder brake parts. Immediately you regret this decision.

“What’s in the case?” Omega piped, and before you can turn around her face is pressed to the glass, memorizing its contents.

“Oh!—Uh, adult stuff, Omega. You really shouldn’t worry about it.” You said sheepishly, and you began to walk over to try and find something else for her to look at, but before you could Echo interjects.

“They’re right Omega, you have no business with this kind of stuff. Let’s just focus on the parts we need so we can get back to the ship before too long” He says, before clasping her on the back. She huffs, but obliges and stands up.

“So I have the parts you’re looking for, however the brakes come as a complete set. So you may end up with extras if you didn’t break the entire thing.” You explain, and waggle a box in the air.

“Judging by the sound when we came in, I’d imagine we’ll probably use the whole kit. I hope we don’t scare off too much foot traffic with the repairs.” Echo quipped, accompanied by a soft smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought the man was flirting with you.

“Foot traffic?” You fake gawk. “Ain’t from ‘round here huh?”

Echo chuckles, and his eyes shone a little bit lighter. The bright honey-brown was rather stark against his skin, making it even more difficult not to get lost in them. The normally-dull blue hue of the overhead plasma lights made them pop out a bit more now that you were inside.

“Well, in any case, we’ll be out front for a bit. Appreciate the help.” Echo nodded and began to take his leave with Omega in tow.

“Last I checked the sign out front didn’t say charity.” You spoke, holding back a laugh with your teeth on your bottom lip.

Echo stopped dead in his tracks, and paused for a moment to reflect on what you meant. He sighed when it finally dawned on him.

“My apologies. Omega, take this out front and start taking the speeder apart while I pay for this.” He handed the box to the girl, and she skipped out the door.

Echo walked up to the counter, albeit awkwardly. Like his hips were too heavy. That’s when you noticed his legs. Or rather lack thereof.

“The heat and humidity makes my joints lock up sometimes.” He stated, noting your staring. Your eyes went wide.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I had only noticed your scomp earlier when we were outside.” You said quickly, trying to alleviate any awkwardness. You had just met the man, you weren’t trying to immediately make a handsome stranger hate you.

“It’s nothing new for me, though I did appreciate the lack of disgust in your face” He joked, self-deprecatingly.

Your eyebrows shot up, a mixture of quizzical and confused. “Everyone in the galaxy has or knows someone with augmentation at this point. What makes yours so gross?” You replied, emphasizing ‘gross’ with a sarcastic voice.

The man shrugged. “Most clones don’t look like me.”

You nodded. “Not exactly a GAR approved clone preset, I gather?”

“Sort of, I guess? I got placed with an experimental clone unit during the war, seeing as how I didn't fit in with the regs anymore.” He responded, now talking with his hands and relaxing his posture. You typed in the total for the engine kit into the register.

“Regs?” You ask, not looking up, but still very much invested in the conversation.

“Regular clones. The ‘approved presets’ as you called them. My unit is nothing of the sort, so I saddled up with them.” He replied with ease, while fishing into one of his waist bags for his credit pouch.

“I see. Well, your total’s gonna be 635 credits.” You chirp, looking up at Echo’s face, only to watch it drop.

“Six thirty five?” He half whispered, somehow going a shade paler. He had about 350 credits left in his pouch after the sorely needed supply run. However, if he couldn't fix the speeder, it wouldn’t matter.

Sensing his trepidation, and also using the moment to steal a few glances at how his biceps push against his armor with his arms crossed, you got an idea.

“Tell you what. Give me what you got, and I’ll smooth over the rest if you take me to dinner” You said in a joking tone, testing the waters.

Echo’s ears tinged pink and his cheeks warmed up at the thought. He pretended not to notice the way you sized him up when you met a few moments ago, but something about your attention on him at that moment made his stomach trip over itself. That feeling piqued his curiosity, but his response was laced with trepidation.

“I honestly don’t even know where we’d go. I’ve never been planetside here, and I’m sure you don’t want to eat the ration bars let alone smell what’s on the ship”

You shrugged. “Beats the stale air here. Plus for as many parts as I carry, I’ve never actually been on a ship.” You felt rather sheepish at your white lie, your eyes scanning the floor.

“The Marauder it is. What time were you thinking?” Echo asked. You couldn’t see it, but his fingers were twitching against his thigh, and the back of his neck was bright red. He hadn’t been on a date since he was still with the 501st, and even then it was usually a random one-off with someone he met at 79’s. By then the alcohol would be long gone and he would realize he’d spent the previous night with someone with bantha-shit for brains.

“Honestly? I could help you with repairs and we could head out. Not like I’d be missing out on any money.” You reply coolly, trying your best to have a ‘we can do whatever’ attitude as you leaned your weight onto one hip and cocked your head.

Inside, you were having ironically the same conundrum as Echo. You hadn’t been on a date in Force knows how long, your work clothes weren’t exactly date material, and holy kriff how did that actually work? You said it on a whim, ready to laugh it off to him and sob into your pillow about it later. Your brain had finally caught up to what you were up to, who you were now going on a date with, what you were doing, how you got there, and how his kid little sister wrecking outside your store was the best thing that could’ve happened.

“Are you gonna help me put this bike back together or are you two gonna flirt all day?!” A shrill voice called from outside.

Right, Omega, kriff.

Both you and Echo flinch and sigh at the sound of her voice. The temperature in the room also seemed to rise a few degrees, even if only for the two of you. You sigh, grabbing the credits Echo left on the counter and lock up the register. You make your way around the counter, and join him as he makes his way towards the door.

Once again faced with his back, your eyes wander down to where his hips meet his metal lower half. Somehow, his blacks tuck neatly into them, or maybe they’re clipped somewhere, you don’t know. You stifle a small laugh at the thought.

As you make your way outside, the thought crosses your mind of Echo’s legs having built in shirt fasteners. Then, before you can stop yourself, you let out a giggle at the thought of Echo having garters for his blacks underneath the armor and over his robotic legs.

Echo turns around at the sound. His eyebrow is raised quizzically, but his eyes betray him. He looks a little sad, worried that you’re laughing at him or Omega or their situation.

Noticing his composure change, you are now forced to have your queries answered.

“How do your blacks stay on if you don’t have them on your lower half? I thought it was like a jumpsuit?”

Echo was bewildered at the question. He cocked his head, and then settled on a response.

“They just .. fit? Like the shirt sits where it’s, supposed to? And it doesn’t move.” He shrugged, never having put much thought into it. “What about that made you laugh?”

“I imagined you having little garters or fasteners on the legs underneath.” You quietly replied, looking at the ground, mildly embarrassed.

Now it was Echo’s turn to laugh. His nose crinkled and he squeezed his eyes shut, and you made a mental note of the sound that came out of the sweet man’s mouth.

“Very funny. Echo can you please put this brake back on?” Omega piped up, exasperated. She loved her brother dearly and was very amused to see him interacting with you in such a manner, however she didn’t anticipate this would require her soloing her speeder rebuild.

“Sorry kiddo, I got you.” Echo crouched down and rested his hands on his knees, surveying what work Omega had done in his leave. She had actually finished about ¾ of the work, and Echo made a mental note to thank Tech profusely for his tutelage when they got back to the ship.

While he made quick work of what was left of the speeder, Omega busied herself with getting to know you. She plopped herself on your front stoop, and materialized some Mantell Mix from inside her jacket pocket. She threw a handful in her mouth, but before proceeding to chew she primed you with one of soon to be dozens of questions.

“Why’d you set up shop here?”

You frowned slightly, as there was no fun answer to this question. The Siege drove everyone off of Mandalore, if they survived. This planet just happened to be in the same section of The Rim and was taking refugees. Setting up a shop was never in the cards on your home world, but despite your utter lack of knowledge of retail, you relished the opportunity to do something different. Start completely anew. Though a part of you balked at sharing your past, this young girl seemed wiser than she let on and you enjoyed actually talking to someone outside of the usual “How are you” “Good, thanks” “Your total’s 45 credits” “Have a good day”. So, against your better judgment, you indulged her.

“Well, Mandalore doesn’t really exist, at least in its full capacity,” You sucked in your teeth. “And I didn’t trust that old Coruscanti freighter to leave the star system. Plus, the owner of the place doesn't like people too much and would rather just collect a paycheck.” You shrugged.

Upon mention of Mandalore, a thunk came from the speeder. Not loud enough to draw your attention over, thank Force, but enough to be heard. It was Echo dropping a tool. While Kamino wasn’t as much of a home to him as he imagined you would regard Mandalore, it was a similar weighty feeling. If all else failed, there was nowhere for either of you to go. There was no home. Sure, The Marauder and your little studio apartment were where the two of you resided, but that’s not where you’re from. Plus, it’s kind of difficult to compare a ship and a box room barely bigger than the storefront to an entire planet.

“This isn’t your store?” Omega replied, sensing it easier to focus on the latter half of your statement. You shook your head.

“For all intents and purposes, it’s mine. I run the day to day, order the products, harass people to actually get it delivered, everyone knows it’s me who runs it. But I don’t own it, no.”

Omega nodded in understanding, and was immediately buried in thought. Her dark brows knitted together as her brain formulated questions faster than she could ask. She nodded once more, seeming to have landed on a fitting one. But before she could ask, Echo piped up.

“The brakes are fixed up. We should be able to head back to the ship” Echo began to get up, but before he turned around he shot a question that you were dreading. Well, more of a statement.

“I thought you said you’ve never been on a ship?”

You gawked at him and then trained your eyes to the ground, suddenly very interested in the species of weeds that had taken hold in the cracks of the ground. You didn’t have any good excuses, and you’d already been caught in one lie.

“Got you to say ‘yes’ to the date, didn’t it?” You muttered weakly, knowing that this could very well end in him cursing you out and leaving you to your lonely little shop.

Echo sighed. He didn’t like lying, but the reason for it warmed his cheeks. He realized you just wanted an ‘in’. To hang out with him, of all people. He wasn’t used to someone, anyone, making that kind of effort to spend time with him.

“It did, though I’d have probably said yes otherwise.” It was his turn to reply coolly and pretend that his heart’s not in his throat for even uttering the words. He coughs in a feeble attempt to clear it. “Either way, are you two ready?”

You nodded and looked at Omega, who responded by excitedly getting up and hopping on her speeder. Echo walked a few feet, and grabbed his own by the handlebars. Before you could ask who you were riding with, he re-parked the bike in front of where you were standing so you could easily step off of the curb and onto the back.

“When’d you get smooth?” You chide, grabbing Echo’s shoulder for leverage as you kicked your leg over the side. Your feet found purchase above the altitude controls, gripping the cargo compartment with your legs to maintain balance. You brought your hands down and let them rest in your lap as Echo kicked over the ignition.

“Since I found a reason to be smooth.”

[valtsv]

last serious post for tonight i promise but i think part of the reason i value critical thinking so much (even though i realize that might come as a surprise if your only knowledge of me as a person comes from here, because tumblr is more of an escape slash stream of consciousness collaborative scrapbook for me than a platform for spreading awareness or teaching and learning tool - no offence to anyone who does use it for that, i just prefer to treat it as a hobby myself) is because i grew up both extremely isolated and controlled and prevented from expressing myself while also watching my parents fall hard down the conspiracy theory pipeline and experiencing the creeping horror of growing old enough to understand that and learning more about the world and being exposed to more people and ideas in it and realizing that my fear and frustration around them wasn't just typical teen angst but an entirely reasonable reaction to their increasing capacity to be very dangerous and untrustworthy people.

and like. i did actually try to pull them back. i wasn't very good at it (partly because i was a kid, and partly because i have my own biases and misconceptions and just plain bad ideas that i'll spend my entire life working on unlearning and trying to be aware and receptive to criticism of) but goddamn it did i fucking try. i tried discussing, i tried debating, i tried arguing back and standing up for myself and others, i tried researching and learning and presenting my counterarguments backed up with actual evidence, i tried to get other people to support me despite lacking much in terms of social skills or confidence or people around me who didn't buy into all the same bullshit, or something equally stupid and harmful. i even read the things they sent me and showed me so i could say "look, i approached this with an open mind and genuine good faith, i reflected on it and i used my critical thinking skills and tried to understand, but this is wrong and it's going to get people hurt. it's going to get you to hurt people."

i grew up knowing that as the closest person to them who hadn't fallen into the same trap of facebook radicalization groups and increasingly deranged and cult-like (and i don't use that word lightly) organizations and communities online i had a responsibility to try to protect people by warning them that my parents have the potential to cause a lot of harm and suffering if nothing else. and i failed. i'm not a trained deprogramming therapist and they probably crossed whatever event horizon ordinary people who aren't professionally taught how to combat that shit could have any chance of pulling them back from long ago. but the one thing i still have the ability to do is not let the same thing happen to me. i refuse to just passively let everything i see and hear fester in my brain until it starts poisoning all my thoughts and interactions with the world and people around me, and i'm still willing to try to encourage others to be aware and critical of everything around them so they don't end up following the same path and ending up unrecognizable to their former selves. i'm not perfect, i've definitely made some very bad mistakes and hurt people in ways i can't and don't want to be forgiven for and have many regrets, but i will never let myself end up like that as long as i have the ability to fight back.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

The Good, The Bad And The Very Ugly

So from what I've gathered, you all seem rather fond of a pregnancy fic and I was honestly astounded at the response to my attempts. I was even more surprised that there were a few comments asking for a follow up?!

Well, how could I not when you asked so nicely? This follows on this pregnancy fic rather than the single mom one (though there is a part 2 coming for that too!) and is one of 3 further one shots I have planned. So...all that is to day I hope you enjoy!

~*~

When you pad through to the kitchen with the intention of putting the kettle on, you don’t expect to find Melissa grasping the work surface, her breathing ragged and uneven.  You immediately cross the space between you, laying one hand on her back and the other on top of the hand closest to you which has a white knuckle grip on the worktop. 

“’Lissa, what’s wrong?  What can I do?”

She just shakes her head, tears in her eyes, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. 

You recognise the symptoms you realise; she’s having a panic attack.  Prising her hands from the work surface, you hold them in your own, turning her to face you.  Speaking slowly and as calmly as you can you ignore the tremble in Melissa’s hands and instead focus on getting her to breathe.  It doesn’t happen immediately, but slowly, she responds to your quiet counting.  You tug her close, leaning her head on your shoulder as you slowly stroke one hand up and down her back.

Her breathing begins to settle, but you know from her intermittent sniffles that her tears have not.  The hand that still grasps your own finally loosens its death grip and you feel her shift so she can place her hand on your ever growing bump.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

She lets out a deep breath, finally pulling back to look at you.  “I can’t help you,” she whispers.

You frown, not following.  “You can’t help me?  Help with that?”

“This,” she says, looking down at your stomach.  “I feel like I pressured you into this and now you feel awful all the time and I can’t do anything to help.”

Smiling softly, you shake your head.  “Mel, I wouldn’t have let you put a baby in me if I didn’t want this.  And you didn’t put pressure on me.  We had a discussion, lots of them actually, and we agreed that this was what we both wanted.”

She sniffles, her eyes red rimmed with tears.  “But…”

“But what?” you prompt.

“But you’re miserable,” she grumbles.

You smile.  “No, I’m not.”

She takes a few shuddering, hiccupping breaths.  “It’s just hard, to see you going through all of this…the morning sickness that’s not just in the morning, being tired all the time because you don’t sleep so good, the aches that never go away and I just…”

“Exactly,” you breathe.  “You’re right there with me.  Mel, you’re literally there holding my hair and rubbing my back.  If I didn’t have you I’d be miserable.”"

“But I’m useless!” she whines.  “There’s nothing I can do to make you feel better and…what if something happens?  It all went so wrong for me before.”

Fresh tears gather in her eyes and you gather her close in a gentle embrace.  “A lot of things happened before,” you say softly.  “For both of us, but it brought us here, and I for one can’t regret what went before if it brought me to you.”

You cover the hand that still rests on your bump, moving it slightly to ensure she can feel the movement beneath.  Yes, it went wrong for her before, you know this.  It’s the reason you’re carrying the precious cargo that is the product of how wrong it went for her before.  It’s also part of the reason she’s so terrified something might happen.  You’re carrying a piece of her.  She’d gone through the ordeal of having her eggs frozen meaning that they’re a finite resource.  The IVF wasn’t easy, but it worked, and all the checks so far have been promising.  Everything is going well. 

“Feel that?” you ask.  “That’s your daughter, and she’s growing every single day.  Yes, she’s using my body as an amusement park and it’s not cute, but she’s strong, Melissa.  She needs you to be just as strong.  I need you to be strong.”

She takes a few deep breaths before looking up at you.  “I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” you smile sweetly, leaning in to kiss her.  “I want this.  I want you.  I want this with you.  Never doubt that,” you whisper against her lips.  “If I had doubts about any of this, we wouldn’t be here.”

You lean your foreheads together.  “But that little life you can feel under your hand?  She’s here because I love you and I want this life with you and I know it’s scary and something might go wrong, but it also might not.”  You pause, taking a deep breath before you continue.  “But whatever happens, I’ll be here, because I will always want you.”

Your words come to a sudden stop as you make a run for the bathroom, leaving Melissa standing in her kitchen, tears in her eyes, still struggling to take in your words.  She’s never had quite such a heartfelt declaration in her life.  She’s still reeling as she moves on autopilot, fetching a glass of water and a pack of your mints before following you to the bathroom.

She sits next to you on the bathroom floor, despite the fact she knows she’ll probably need you to help her up afterwards.  In a few weeks time you’re going to need Janine or someone suitably young and agile to haul you both up off the floor.

“See, where would I be without you,” you smile.  “Sat on the bathroom floor and miserable.”

“I love you,” she says quietly.  “And I’m sorry about before.”

You shift until you can lean your head on her shoulder.  “Never apologise for that,” you tell her, lacing your fingers with hers.  “You’re allowed to be scared.  Hell, so am I.  But we’re in this together.  I put up with the vomiting and feeling gross and disgusting and you put up with me, the good and the bad and the very ugly.  It’s teamwork.”

[forever-rogue]

taking peter to ice skating!! imagine the reader used to take lessons before and wants to bring him to the skating rink to try it out, and he thinks he would wing it bc of his Spidey reflexes but it's the opposite 😭

AN |  Man, this turned into a whole thing but it’s soft!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Wow,” you hadn’t realized that you’d stopped walking until Peter almost crashed into you. You were too enamored with watching the lightly falling snow, a layer of which was already glittering on the ground. The entire park looked like a magical winter wonderland and you were almost positive that you’d never seen anything more beautiful - well besides maybe the boy that was curiously looking at you, “it’s beautiful.”

“What?” he asked softly as he followed your line of sight, a smile on his face as he watched you. There were soft snowflakes coating your hair and he wanted nothing more than to brush them away, “the snow?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded  before looking back at him, “I’ve never seen snow before.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raised in surprise, causing you to nod sheepishly.

“We didn’t have snow in California. At least not where I’m from,” you reminded him. You’d only moved to New York a few months ago, and Peter had become your neighbor and closest friend. And crush…but he didn’t need to know that now or ever. Instead you smiled softly and found yourself looking away from his soft eyes, “this is all new to me.”

“Well, I’m honored to spend your first New York Winter with you,” you felt his hand brush against yours, which sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. You wanted nothing more than to have him take your hand in his, “I’ll make sure you experience only the finest things, m’lady.”

You laughed at the silly dork, shaking your head in amusement. You really liked him and even if nothing happened between the two of you besides friendship, you would be happy with that too, “thanks, Pete. I hope you know you’re not obligated to spend time with me.”

“I know,” his smile was too pretty as he slowly pulled his scarf off and moved to wrap it around your neck. You froze at the intimate gesture, trying not to panic at the feeling of the warm fabric around your neck, and the fact that his smell was overwhelming in all the best ways, “I happen to love spending time with you. You are my friend in case you haven’t realized.”

“I love spending time with you too,” you promised softly, your voice almost inaudible and if Peter hadn’t had his enhanced senses, he might not have heard it. But he also heard the way your heart rate picked up, “I’m very lucky that of all the places I could have moved into, I moved across the hall from you.”

“That goes both ways,” the two of you looked at each with sweet, shy smiles before you looked away and cleared your throat. There were so many moments when you wished you were just a bit braver, just had a moment of brilliant confidence and found it within yourself to tell him how you felt. But you also didn’t want to risk your friendship with him, that wasn’t worth it. Instead you scanned the area before finding a small coffee shop tucked away, “wanna go get a hot chocolate, Pete?”

“As long as there’s marshmallows and whipped cream,” his smile was a thing of ethereal beauty and you found yourself just staring at him with a lovesick little smile, “come on!”

He looped his arm through yours, not letting you say anything otherwise. Not that you would have complained. Never. Not with Peter Parker.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You grew nervous as you knocked on his door, not even having texted to see if he was home. The little idea that had become a brilliant idea - at least in your mind - came over you all at once and you’d practically run over to him. After a few moments he slowly opened the door, a smile stretching across his face as he realized it was you. 

“Hi Peter,” your voice was soft enough that it made his knees weak. He opened the door a little further and your heart dropped into your stomach when you spotted the pretty girl sitting at the small kitchen table. Oh. He’d never mentioned a girlfriend before but you shouldn’t have been surprised - he was the total package after all. She had pretty auburn hair and bright eyes, and even offered you a small wave. She radiated kindness and you couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her.

“Hey,” he looked between the two of you and pointed over his shoulder, “MJ and I were just about to order some pizza and watch a movie. Do you want to join us?”

“N-no,” you shook your head and took a step back. Did he really think you wanted to third-wheel? Ugh, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should have texted first, ‘m sorry. I’ll umm…see you around, I guess.”

“Wait,” he reached for your wrist but you were faster and managed to pull out of his touch, “what’s up? Did you need something?”

“No,” you shook your head, “nothing at all.”

You didn’t even give him the opportunity to say anything before you returned to your own apartment, softly closing the door behind you and locking it. You leaned against it for a moment, trying to keep from crying. It was stupid - you felt stupid. Peter was just a friend, and you knew that…but it didn’t prevent your heart from breaking. 

Peter remained in his doorway as he listened to you, your heartbeat erratic and he was positive that he heard your sniffles. He went back inside and let out a low groan before rubbing a tired hand over his face. 

Mary Jane Watson gave Peter a hard stare before shaking her head. He held up his hand, trying to keep her from saying anything as he sat down across from her. But he knew her better than that, and she knew he knew, “that was her?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before laying his head on the table and banging it lightly, “I fucked that up now.”

“She’s really pretty,” she confessed as Peter’s cheeks grew pink, “and she’s clearly into you too, Pete! How could you even question that? It’s so obvious - you really should just make your move and ask her out.”

“She looked more like she hated me.”

“That’s because she was upset.”

“Upset? Why?”

“She came here to talk to you and then saw me and suddenly decided that she no longer wanted to talk to you,” MJ explained as he tried to follow. He was a genius, a literal genius, but still so clueless when it came to dating and feelings, “she probably thought we’re dating and that you didn’t tell her you had a girlfriend when you’ve probably been acting all in love with her.”

“Oh. Oh?”

“Yes,” she insisted firmly, reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of his, “Pete, I love you, you know that. But you need to tell her, or you’re going to lose her. I’m not saying you have to tell her you’re Spider-Man, yet, but you have to tell her how you feel at the very least. I’ve seen how happy you’ve been since meeting her - don’t throw away something that could be amazing just because you’re nervous.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed thickly, knowing that she was right. He’d always loved MJ for how honest and pragmatic she was. They’d made a good couple, he had to admit, but they just weren’t the right ones for each other. He felt like he was starting to see why…he’d met you, “I-I’ll tell her. I have to.”

“Good,” she grinned, “now hurry up and order pizza, I’m starving.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were just about to go to bed when a knock came at your door. It was late and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors, which caused you to grow worried. You went to the door and looked through the peephole, and almost groaned when you saw it was the girl from earlier. MJ he had called her.

You opened the door reluctantly and tried to muster up a smile, “hey - MJ, right?”

“Yeah,” she held out her hand as you shook and gave her your name, “look, this is probably not my place to say, but I just wanted to let you know that Pete and I are just friends. We dated for a bit when we were teenagers, but that was all. He’s…very special, which I’m sure you already know. He’s told me a lot about you-”

“He has?!”

“He has,” she promised, “and you sound just as wonderful too. He’s not always the best with….getting his feelings out there, but he really cares about you, just so you know. You’re very important to him.”

“Oh,” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, your face warming up, “he’s….I like him too.”

“Good,” she smiled softly, a knowing little smile on her face, “I just wanted to make sure you knew. I know how it could seem…and if you ever want to grab a coffee or something just text me. It’s always nice to have a new friend.”

She passed you a post-it with her and number on it, and you gently took it from her. Alright, you liked her too. It really would have been impossible to like the redhead, “yeah. That would be really nice, MJ. I’ll text you.”

“Great!” she waved before taking a step towards the elevator. She wasn’t spending the night -  a good sign that they weren’t dating and she hadn’t lied. Not that you thought she would but still, you wanted to guard your heart as much as possible, “have a good night!”

“You too,” you waved as you closed the door after her. 

Maybe not all was lost just yet. Maybe there was hope after all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite MJ's assurances that she and Peter weren't dating, you still avoided him for close to a week. You were embarrassed and didn't want to admit to him that you immediately jumped to conclusions and almost broke your own heart over nothing. Pathetic.

It had been tricky as the two of you worked the same hours, him at some fancy science lab and you at a law firm, and usually ran into each other at some point. But you'd left early and stayed a little late to avoid him. Absolutely childish. Almost as much as ignoring his texts and calls. You knew you couldn't - and wouldn't - avoid him forever but…yeah. You'd gotten into your own head.

But Peter had made up your mind for you. You'd been sitting in your office, staring at your computer screen but unable to concentrate. A knock came at your door, followed by the receptionist looking at you nervously.

"There's someone here to see you," she almost whispered, "a Peter Parker?"

"Oh," would it be too dramatic if you jumped out the window? A tenth floor fall wouldn't be too bad, right? Maybe Spider-Man would save you… "he's my friend. You can send him in."

A few tense moments passed before Peter was leaning against your doorframe, "hey."

"Hi Peter," you motioned for him to come, watching curiously as he closed the door and sat across the desk from you, "what's up?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He teased softly and you couldn't help but relax at the fact that he wasn't mad, "what's been up? You've been avoiding me."

Did he…sound hurt? You were almost positive that he did. You hated seeing a frown on his handsome face; you especially didn’t want to be the cause of it. Waving a hand nonchalantly, you tried to okay it off, "I haven't been….just busy…?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" he raised an eyebrow as he watched you flounder. He could feel your heart beating fast as you shrugged, "did I do something?"

"No, no, no," you shook your head as you leaned forward, wanting to reach over and touch him, "its not you. Seriously. It was just…me."

"Are you alright?" you could see the concern in his pretty brown eyes as he tried to get a read on you, “everything’s okay?”

"Of course," you promised, "I didn't mean to worry you, Pete."

"Good," he visibly relaxed as you couldn't help but smile at the boy. He was so gentle, sweet with every word and gesture that made you feel like you were on a sugar high, "I was wondering…umm, are you free tonight?"

"Yeah…"

"Great," he almost bounced out of the chair with excitement, "can I pick you up at six?"

"What are we doing?"  your eyes grew wide, both with excitement and nervous anticipation. More importantly, you were glad to have him back in your life; you’d missed him more than you thought, “Pete?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m suddenly wondering if I should say no…”

“Say yes,” his smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but laugh at your favorite dork. Peter had missed your laugh so much. 

“Fine! Yes, Peter Parker, I trust you.”

“Great,” he jumped up in excitement, “it’s a date! I’ll see you tonight at six.”

“Tonight at six,” you wondered if he realized what he had just said as he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek. He almost skipped out, giving you a small wave before he disappeared and you were staring after him. You touched your cheek where your skin had been blessed with his lips and sighed softly. 

He had to know what he was doing, right? He was a smart man, he had to know. You thought back to what MJ said and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all true. Maybe you’d find out later than night.

“Just a friend, huh?” you heard the little giggle from outside your office and groaned lightly, but there was still a big smile on your face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter was knocking at your door at six on the dot and you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked to the door, opening it slowly. He was on the other side with a big smile on his face and a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. As soon as he saw you, he grew speechless, “hi Pete.”

“Hi,” he choked out after a few moments of staring at you in awe, holding out the flowers to you, “there are for you. Y-you look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you took the flowers - a mixture of tulips and daisies - and gently clutched them to your chest. You looked him over before shyly admitting, “you look good too.”

“Flatterer,” he teased as you reached for his hand and pulled him inside. You went to the kitchen and quickly pulled out a vase, filling it with water, a splash of vinegar, and sugar. He watched you work in silence, trying to calm the wild beating of his heart. 

“So, Parker, what are we doing?” you turned to him and couldn’t quite place what he could be up to from his outfit. He was dressed normal, but still managed to look so good, “are you planning on kidnapping me? Is that what all this is about? You’re some kind of-”

“Alright, alright, overdramatic,” he snorted in amusement, “first things first - dinner. There’s a good Italian place nearby and I thought we could go there. Oh, shit, wait, I didn’t even ask if you like Italian but we can always do something else. Ugh, I didn’t even think to-”

“Relax Pete,” how was he supposed to relax when you’d put your hand on his arm like that, “I love Italian.”

“Oh good,” he let out a small sigh of relief, “the rest is still a surprise.”

“Alright,” you agreed as you reached for your scarf and pulled it on, “I’m ready if you are.”

“Ready!”

You’d had dinner with Peter on many occasions, but there was something about tonight that was just so different. But…not in a negative way. It felt right and like suddenly everything was falling into place.

When dinner was done, he took you to get ice cream because even though it was December, there was never a wrong time for ice cream. At least according to Peter. And you weren't inclined to disagree. 

But there was one more little thing he wanted to share with you. He reached for your hand and started pulling you in the direction of the park, causing you to laugh as you almost had to jog to keep up with him. He didn’t stop until you were standing in front of the giant skating rink that had been built in the middle of the park, magical and glittering under all the evening lights. 

“Pete?”

“I told you I was going to spend your first New York winter with you,” he explained as your eyes lit up with pure happiness, “and what’s more New York in the winter than ice skating?” he pointed to the rink behind you as you almost jumped into his arms.

“You’re perfect,” you couldn’t stop yourself before you realized what you had said, “I mean, umm…that’s perfect. I’d love to! I haven’t gone in years.”

“I haven’t gone ever,” he confessed as you looked at him with wide eyes. He was Spider-Man after all, not that you knew that just yet. He had superhuman reflexes and abilities, surely he could handle ice skating. How hard could it be? You couldn’t help but shake your head affectionately at the boy, "it's not rocket science - how hard could it be?"

"I mean…I'm willing to find out," you reached for his hand and threaded your fingers through his, causing both of your hearts to skip a beat. You felt so giddy and happy as you pulled him towards the rink, “come on then, show me what you’ve got!”

He wasted no time in following, 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” you had your skates on and stood up towards the entrance to step on the ice when you saw that Peter was taking a suspiciously long time to stand up and follow. You walked back towards him and held your hand out. He looked at it and huffed playfully as he took it and you helped him to his feet, “I’ve got you, Pete.”

“I know,” he promised softly as you walked onto ice and took a moment to get your balance. Once you did, you dropped his hand and skated a few feet away as you motioned for him to follow.

“Come on,” you motioned for him to follow and he reluctantly did so, wobbly and shaky on his feet as he tried his best to keep his balance. He did not like the feeling of being on the ice…to him it felt so unnatural…apparently spidey skills didn’t translate to ice skating, “you’ve got this, Pete!”

“I don’t think I do,” he groaned, already feeling himself slipping, but he leaned forward and eventually made it into your arms, almost taking you down with him. But somehow you managed to keep both of you stable and upright. His cheeks were tinged bright pink, but you were simply giggling at him, “sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” you were to keep your cool at him giving you a sweet new nickname, “you didn’t knock us over so I’d say you were doing okay! Just take my hand and I’ll lead.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you put your arms on his strong biceps and stabilized him before taking his hand again. His grip on yours was very tight but you enjoyed the feeling of his large, warm hand dwarfing yours. His touch was surprisingly soft.

You pushed off and pulled him along with you, moving at a space that was slow enough for him to keep up. After skating around the rink a few times, he slowly started to get his stride, just like the little genius he was. Before you knew it, you were talking to each other, over the soft holiday music that was playing, giggling and laughing. It was so easy to spend time with Peter; he was so kind and funny, and everything between the two of you felt right. You weren’t surprised that you’d slowly fallen in love with him.

Holy shit. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and caused you to stop suddenly. Peter had been talking and didn’t see that you had stopped, knocking into you, and causing both of you to tumble onto the ice. You made a sound of surprise as Peter caught you, taking the brunt of the hit with you landing on top of him.

“Are you alright?’ you both asked at the same time, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“I’m alright,” you promised softly, aware of the closeness of your bodies. You couldn’t help but brush a few rogue strands of hair out of his face, “thank you for saving me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he keened into your touch as you let your hand rest on his cheek, “just doing my job, and keeping you safe. What happened though? You just stopped…”

“I…” how were you supposed to tell him that you came to the conclusion that you were in love with him? You faltered for a moment before shrugging innocently, “just zoned out, I guess. Sorry Pete.”

“Hey, no need to apologize - as long as you’re okay,” you nodded and the two of you looked at each other in reverent silence for a few moments. His honey brown eyes flicked to your lips for just a moment before he moved to sit up. This time it was his turn to brush your hair behind your ear, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” it was a soft response that had his heart almost hammering against his ribcage. No one had made him feel like this before, it all felt so new and foreign and overwhelming at the same time. He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours before you felt him smiling against your lips. 

He finally leaned in and kissed you, softly and sweetly, almost as if he was afraid he might break you. When he pulled back he looked at you shyly and you simply reached for his scarf and pulled him back to your lips, stealing a few sweet kisses. 

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but you were quickly interrupted by an annoyed little voice, “can you guys move? You’re in the way and you’re being gross!”

You ducked your face and rested it on his shoulder before you both laughed. He gave the young girl a thumbs up, “we were just leaving. Sorry, kid.”

“Whatever old man,” she skated away as Peter playfully scoffed at her. 

“I’m not old,” he insisted as you looked at him in amusement, “I am not. Mid twenties is not old!”

“I know,” you kissed his cheek before slowly standing up and holding your hands out for him to take, “come on Pete.”

He took your hand and followed you off the ice and back onto the solid ground that wouldn’t cause him to slip and slide to his death. You looked at him with a small frown, not wanting the night to come to a close just yet, “hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…I guess we should get home then…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then come on,” he quickly pulled off the skates and you followed suit, watching him with eager eyes, “the night is still young!”

“Where are we going?” he was already grabbing your hand again, “Pete?”

“It’s a surprise,” he winked, “but one more thing first.”

“What - oh,” and he was kissing you again, his hands gently holding your face as you almost melted into him.

“That,” he grinned as he pulled away, leaving you flushed and wildhearted, “come on, it’s adventure time!”

[ezziefae]

Thoughts while reading The Prisoners Throne Excerpt

Here's a rushed annotation of some parts of the excerpt that really drew my attention. Jurdan fans be ready for many surprises.

"Imagine you have a weapon. They had been in Vivi’s second apartment, standing on a small metal balcony. Inside, Taryn and Vivi had been fussing over Leander, who was learning to crawl. The Ghost had asked about Oak’s training and been uninterested in the excuse that he was eleven, had to go to school, and couldn’t be swinging around a longsword in the common space of the lawn without neighbors getting worried."

(this is a flashback) Taryn’s child makes their first debut!! Taryn named the boy Leander. (I’m assuming its a boy name) Since the Ghost is in Vivi’s apartments could that be a hint that he’s romantically involved with Taryn? Or it could also be that he’s accompanied Taryn to protect her. It's super cool to see The Ghost and Oak training together.

"Oak had actually liked making his own sword. It was huge and black with a bright red hilt covered in demonish faces. It looked like the sword of someone in an anime he’d been watching, and he felt like a badass, holding it in his hands. The sight of Oak’s blade had made the Ghost smile, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he started moving through a series of exercises, urging Oak to follow. He told the prince should call him by his non‑spy name, Garrett, since they were friends."

Love that Holly is still referencing anime in the Elfhame series. Can we also talk about The Ghost’s character development? In TFOTA series he always kept to himself, and now he’s letting his closest friends call him by his real name.

"The prince has been imprisoned three weeks, according to the tallies he’s made in the dust beneath the lone bench. Long enough to dwell on every mistake he has made on his ill‑fated quest."

THREE WEEKS??? What the heck have Jude and Cardan been doing for three weeks??? I honestly expected for him to be rescued asap. If anything Jude and Cardan have been carefully planning to save oak and I guess that takes a lot of time. 

"His family must be in a panic right now. He trusts that Tiernan got Madoc to Elfhame safely, no matter what the redcap general wanted. But Jude would be furious with Tiernan for leaving Oak behind and even angrier with Madoc, if she guesses just how much of this is his fault."

I really want to see someone from Elfhame’s POV on Jude finding out on Oak being taken prisoner by Wren. I want to see a raging Jude. I’d be terrified to be in Tiernan’s place, since it was his job to protect Oak, and he failed that.

"Possibly Cardan would be relieved to be rid of Oak, but that wouldn’t stop Jude from making a plan to get him back. Jude has been ruthless on Oak’s behalf before, but this is the first time it’s scared him. Wren is dangerous. She is not someone to cross. Neither of them are."

OHH??? OHHH???? So many things are thrown at us here. Oak has a reason to believe that Cardan doesn’t like him??? To the point where Oak believes Cardan would even be RELIEVED to get rid of him? That was SUPER unexpected. Oak finally takes it in that neither Wren or Jude are people to cross. As much as I hate saying this, I want a Jude and Wren fight. That would be amazing. Not saying I want either of them to die, or get hurt, but that would be an intense scene. 

“I can do better,” he says. “And perhaps you might bring me a little gossip to cheer the chilly monotony of my days.” “You’re very silly, Your Highness,” she says after a moment, biting her bottom lip a little.

Oak is using his most dangerous power, seduction. Screaming. 

"He remembers Oriana’s warning to him when he was a child. A power like the one you have is dangerous, she said. You can know what other people most want to hear. Say those things, and they will not only want to listen to you. They will come to want you above all other things. The love that a gancanagh inspires—some may pine away for desire of it. Others will carve the gancanagh to pieces to be sure no one else has it."

I'm so glad holly is diving deep into this, We know that Locke also had this power, and how he was wielding it in TFOTA series. 

"That night, he wakes to the sight of a snake crawling down the wall, its black metal body jeweled and glittering. A forked emerald tongue tastes the air at regular intervals, like a metronome. It startles him badly enough for him to back up against the bars, the iron hot against his shoulders. He has seen creatures like it before, forged by the great smiths of Faerie. Valuable and dangerous. The paranoid thought comes to him that poison would be one straightforward way to solve the problem of his being held by an enemy of Elfhame. If he were dead, there’d be no reason to pay a ransom."

Oak sees this snake, and he immediately thinks it was sent from elfhame to kill him. Which is insane for him to believe that. 

"He doesn’t think his sister would allow it, but there are those who might risk going around her. Grima Mog, the new grand general, would know exactly where to find the prince, having served the Court of Teeth herself. Grima Mog might look forward to the war it would start. And, of course, she answered to Cardan as much as Jude."

"Not to mention there was always the possibility that Cardan convinced Jude that Oak was a danger to them both."

WHAT IS THIS DISAPPROVAL CARDAN HAS ON OAK?? The fact that Oak believes Cardan sent the snake to KILL HIMM, that's absolute madness. Like what the helll did this man do to Oak to make him feel this way?? Cryingggg. 

"It yawns widely enough for him to see silver fangs. The links of its body move, and a ring comes up from its throat, clanging to the floor. He leans down and lifts it. A gold ring with a deep blue stone, scuffed with wear. His ring, a present from his mother on his thirteenth birthday and left behind on his dresser because it no longer fit his finger. Proof that this creature was sent from Elfhame. Proof that he was supposed to trust it."

THIS IS THE RING THAT'S ON THE COVER!! Now we know what the ring means to Oak!!

“Prinss,” it says. “In three daysssss, you mussss be ready for resssss‑cue.” “Rescue?” Not here to poison him, then. The snake just stares with its cold, glittering eyes.

Okay so Jude sent a snake as a messenger to Oak, to let him know that they're coming to save him in three days. Cool….coool.

“Give me longer,” he says, no matter that it’s ridiculous to negotiate with a metal snake and even more ridiculous to negotiate for his own imprisonment, just in order to get a chance to speak with someone who refuses to see him. “Two more weeks perhaps. A month.”

THIS STUBBORN BOYYYYYY. Oh I know Jude would be absolutely furious for that.

"Oak slides the ring onto his pinkie finger, watching the snake as it coils its way up the wall. Halfway to the ceiling, he realizes that just because it wasn’t sent to poison him doesn’t mean it wasn’t sent to poison someone."

BIG MISTAKE MISTER SNAKE, BIGGGGG MISTAKEEEE.

He jumps onto the bench and grabs for it, catching the end of its tail. With a tug, it comes off the wall, falling against his body and coiling around his forearm. “Prinsssss,” it hisses. As it opens its mouth to speak, he notes the tiny holes in the points of its silvery fangs. When it does not strike, Oak pries the snake carefully from around his arm. Then, gripping the end of its tail firmly, he slams it down against the stone bench. Hears the cracking of its delicate mechanical parts. A gem flies off. So does a piece of metal. He whips it against the bench again.

Oak really said “oh hell no, you're not killing the women i love, nah uh,” and then proceeds to kill it in a very violent unsettling manner. Everyone was right when they said that Oak was like Madoc.

Straun spits on the floor in front of the prince’s cage. “No amount of gold or gems will save you. If my winter queen wants you to rot here, you’re going to rot.” “Your winter queen?” Oak repeats, unable to stop himself. The falcon looks a little shamefaced and turns to go back to his post. He’s young, Oak realizes. Older than Oak, but not by so very much. Younger than Hyacinthe. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Wren made such an impression on him. It shouldn’t bother Oak, shouldn’t fill him with a ferocious jealousy.

THE JEALOUSY HAS ME CACKLING. He was imprisoned, neglected in his cell by wren and yet he's jealous whenever someone else has lovey dovey eyes for wren. This man is so down for wren, and I don’t blame him. 

The Ghost taught him how to move stealthily, but he’s never been very good at it. He blames his hooves, heavy and hard. They clack at the worst possible times. But he makes an effort, sliding them against the floor to minimize noise.

Super cool to see how much The Ghost has impacted Oak's skills. The court of shadows in general has been a huge part in Oak’s training and it shows.

Oak moves fast, jerking Straun backward and covering his nose and mouth with the cloth. The guard struggles, but inhaling blusher mushroom slows his movements. Oak presses him to the floor until he’s unconscious.

THERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Welp, The excerpt ends in Oak escaping his cell…..after all thar chaos i've become too impatient. Just 3 Months until this book comes out !!! 

[ananke-xiii]

There's a line from s11e20 "Don't call me Shurley" that got stuck into my little nogging and it's when Chuck tells Metatron "You were just the closest angel to the door when I walked into the room".

Now assuming that Chuck is a lying liar who lies I still like this line because it says way more about Chuck than about Metatron. Then Chuck goes on and delivers his cheap shot: "There's nothing special about you, Metatron. Not then… not now".

(Little aside: AND THEN Amara comes in a few episodes later and calls Metatron "The secretary"?! I mean, how can people not love her? Yes, she might have eaten a few souls so what? Sue her! He brother has eliminated WORLDS because Dean wouldn't bend the knee to him, who's the crazy sibling, huh? *insert a meta about Dean only willing to bend the knee to Cas in Purgatory and all the entendres intended*).

Anyway, for all his pettiness and shrewdness (Metatron is a great villain and I will die on this hill), Metatron replies with surprising grace:

"And I don't care if I was just the angel nearest the door. You picked me. Your light shined on me – Me! Oh, and the warmth. But then you left me. You left all of us."

My little fragile heart trembled a little to these words because... well, it's like the OG trauma, isn't it? To be chosen by your parents, to be loved unconditionally, to be somebody's favorite person... Oh, the warmth.

And so it hit me, I finally saw why I love SPN's angels so much. They are ALL (Cas included) a bunch of children screaming and kicking their feet because they want to be loved, thinking that if they follow their orders, if they fulfill their duties they will be loved.

They are all Lucifer minus the action and the mark.

These are Chuck's words to soothe Lucifer in "We Happy Few": I did. I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites. But you… You were mine. I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most, because I thought you were strong enough to bear it. And when I saw that I was wrong… When I watched my choice devour my most cherished son, I hated myself, and so I punished you. And I am so sorry."

Yes, Chuck is a lying liar who lies. Maybe he chose Lucifer because he was the one closest to the door. Who knows? Chuck doesn't care. Every angel's deepest desire is to be loved by God, to be the chosen one, to be his favorite. Which is both sad and... human? I guess it's a tragedy from the human perspective but maybe the human perspective is limited.

I don't really like the finale with Jack as God for a variety of reasons but, conceptually, the idea of a half-angel and half-human (Kelly Kline you will NOT be forgotten) becoming god is not that bad (Hello Jesus!). Especially if the half-angel part is theoretically (well in pratice too but I mean biology what amirite?)Lucifer's. Because, as Sam says in "We Happy Few": I-I can’t believe I’m actually about to say this, but… um. Lucifer is right.

At the end of the day, SPN as a narrative, did, in a very convoluted and maybe unintentional way, agree with Lucifer.

Like, Lucifer was right. And I know that if we put on our morality glasses Lucifer is evil incarnate etc but honestly? By the same lensens, the whole heavenly host is kinda evil. They ALL (Cas included) did a lot of pretty horrible stuff. All the horror and the pain for a God that doesn't care.

So I guess what should have been explored in Dabb's era was not so much nurture vs nature but more "what does it mean to be half-angel?" 'Cause really, ALL angels are a little bit like Lucifer. And if no angel really represents "good" what are we, humans, left with? Does the question "nurture vs nature" even make sense?

There's really nothing SPECIAL about any of us, humans, angels, demons, monsters. We ALL want to just be chosen and loved unconditionally. It turns out angels are not that different from humans, aren't they?

[alezangona]

The Shadow of Khansar (Salaar Fic)

Part 1 - Man of the Hour

Part 2

Varadha’s gaze sweeps across the room, weariness settling in as he takes in the euphoric crowd surrounding him. The throbbing music, animated cheers, and unbridled laughter provide a stark contrast from the usual silence that encompasses Pathran most nights.

“Bored already?” Bilal asks, taking a seat next to him, drink in hand. Varadha chuckles quietly as he reaches out to grab the bottle before taking a quick swig.

“The things I do for my brother. Sometimes I wonder what goes through his head when he asks for things like this.” Varadha waves his hand vaguely at the scene in front of him, handing the drink back to Bilal.

“In this case? Probably the same thing that’s been running through all of our heads. After all these years, we might finally have a chance.” Both their gazes move immediately at the remark, going to rest on the tall frame of the man responsible for the celebrations at hand.

Deva stands out on the balcony, hands tucked into his pockets as he leans awkwardly away from the man talking to him. For a moment, he looks nothing like the hunter feared by Khansar and its royals. Instead, he seems like the lost little boy he met for the first time at his Grandfather’s house during a State Dinner.

He remembers how hesitant Deva was when he first approached him in that room full of political leaders, not knowing what to do with his body as he shuffled in place. That among all else might’ve been what caused Varadha to feel at ease around him in a way he’d never experienced before in anyone’s presence. His entire childhood up until that point consisted of being shunned by his step siblings despite his best efforts to belong. Deva, however, possessed none of the harsh body language that belonged to his own family. His back didn’t immediately straighten, his eyes didn’t narrow, and his mouth didn’t turn in disgust. Instead, he haunched in on himself, eyes sparkling with curiosity, a slight quirk to his lips as he watched Varadha advance towards him.

While Varadha took the first steps in establishing a new friendship that day, Deva listened on with intent, all his attention focused devoutly on the small boy who couldn’t remember ever being on the receiving end of such kindness. From that moment, Deva embedded himself deep into the core of Varadha’s world, so much so that in his absence, Varadha would feel as if the earth was shattering. Then Deva would come back, following Varadha as a shadow throughout the kingdom of Khansar, and suddenly he would be whole again. Complete.

If there’s anything he’s thankful for, it’s the presence of that boy who followed him blindly through his childhood to this very moment, where the tides of time were changing, and a new history was being written.

“There’s something about him,” Varadha murmurs in awe, taking in the unruly hair and charcoal eyes of his closest friend. 

“Yeah there is,” Bilal chuckles in amusement, settling back in his chair as he takes a long sip. “No wonder why Mahit is trying to stake claim, not that he’s the only one trying of course, but he seems to be the only one persuasive enough to succeed.”

“What?” Varadha jolts slightly in confusion, his brows coming together as he looks to Bilal.

“You can’t tell me you’re surprised?” Bilal arches a brow incredulously. “Your friend, Dora, is the man of the hour. Powerful and handsome? He doesn’t stand a chance against this crowd, definitely not against Mahit.”

Varadha stills, a heaviness settling deep within him as he moves his gaze back to where Deva stands, unable to comprehend how he didn’t notice before. Mahit stands close to Deva, thick hair flowing freely in the breeze as he rests his body against the railing and trails a hand playfully across Deva’s bicep. His dark blue kurta is taught against his torso, emphasizing the strong muscles he’s developed over the years working in Khansar’s military. His hazel eyes sparkle in delight as he trails them shamelessly across Deva’s features, a bright smile on his lips as he converses with the ease of a man who is used to getting what he wants.

Varadha doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly he finds himself covering the distance between him and the two men, long legs carrying him towards the balcony.

“Rey, Deva.” At the sound of his voice, Deva stands taller, eyes snapping up in attention. Varadha strides closer to him, stopping only when they stand shoulder to shoulder. “What are you doing out in this cold anyway? Come inside, everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Spending time with me I should think,” Mahit drawls as if obliging the whims of an unwelcome distraction. “As for the cold, well there’s certainly better ways to warm up than heading back into that party. Don’t you think Deva?”

“I don’t…” Deva trails, his gravelly voice breaking the moment of tense silence that surrounded them for a second. His dark gaze flickers to meet Varadha’s, reluctant and unsure, searching for a way out. The epiphany comes at him like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly, all of the restlessness and unease in Varadha’s body drains away.

Deva is not interested in Mahit.

“Leave him alone Mahit. He’s not interested.” Varadha mutters, his hand wrapping around Deva’s arm, ready to pull him away.

“You never cease to surprise me Dora. You’ve shared so much with me over the years, secrets and lovers both– yet this is where you draw the line?” Mahit questions, an amused lit to his tone. Deva halts at the revelation, his body a glacier, pulling Varadha back from his retreat.

“What? You two-?” Deva’s eyes bore into Varadha’s, lips pressed into a straight line as his brow furrows.

“It was a long time ago,” Varadha finds himself saying. Not that he’s sure why he sounds so defensive all of a sudden.

“Not that long ago from what I recall,” Mahit replies dryly and Varadha shifts awkwardly in place, catching the flash of hurt behind the cool facade. “Anyway, it seems like my night is a bust. Might as well let you two have some fun in my stead.” Mahit walks back towards the door, shoulder jutting against Varadha’s. “Take care Dora. I look forward to seeing you next.”

The two men watch as he disappears into the crowd, an uncomfortable silence settling into the space between them.

“So you and him are…?” Deva breathes.

“Something.”

“But he still tried to make a move on–”

“You. Yep.” Deva chuckles quietly, looking at his feet and tucking his hands back into his pockets.

“I missed a lot these past couple of years, didn’t I?” Varadha couldn’t help but to laugh at that, feeling at ease once more as he turns to look at his friend, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah you did. But, if we go home right now, maybe we can get plastered and catch up on everything we’ve missed.”

Deva’s eyes twinkle and soften when they move back to Varadha. “I think I’d like that, spending time with you after all these years. And getting away from this party would be a blessing! I have no idea why Baachi was so insistent on us coming if he was just going to hole away in a corner with his girlfriend.”

Varadha rolls his eyes at that, shaking his head slightly as he follows Deva through the crowd and away from the party. “If I had any clue as to why he did anything he does, I’d probably be a lot less anxious in my daily life.”

“I’m back now, so not for nothing, but you have someone to share your grievances with.” Though Varadha hears the playful undertone to the magnanimous statement, he feels a sense of relief overtake him.

He’s spent so many years alone, breaking his back to protect his family while trying to find ways to safeguard the small world he’s created for himself. He’s learned to let go of his dreams, to focus on being small and taking what he is given. Doing what he has to for survival and nothing more. But now, with Deva back, the hope that he never realized left him, is back in full force. For the first time in his life, Varadha feels as if he can go beyond survival. That he could choose to live.

No matter how the rest of the journey pans out– whether they win this war or not, Varadha knows that all he needs is Deva at his side and together, they can accomplish anything. Him and his Salaar.

~*~

Just a little fic I’ve written up since I want to contribute to the fandom. I’ve definitely never written anything before so all of this is a huge work in progress. But it’s been a lot of fun and I can’t wait to keep doing it cuz this ship is kinda awesome.

~*~