#thanks for being so respectful and courteous with this!!

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!Price warm up because I am… so tired. I’ve had back-to-back events the last few days and ya bitch canNOT hang. So, while I rehydrate and wait for caffeine to work it’s magic, here’s this:

Part 1 here

No Content Warnings

Mr. Price is the best boss you’ve ever had. He’s straightforward and blunt, but unfalteringly courteous. Likes things a certain way — his own way — but that’s nothing you’re unfamiliar with from rich men responsible for billions. At very least, he seems to respect when you challenge him.

“We’ve always done records this way,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” you answer serenely, “but that was before you had me.”

He stares you down and you beam right back, tablet balanced on your forearm. One beat, two. In the corner of your eye, you see Gaz shift. You tilt your head at your boss.

He sits back in his big office chair, thumb swiping over his index and middle fingers. A gesture you’ve been mentally cataloguing as “contemplative” — perhaps deciding if he’s annoyed or amused. You don’t let yourself get nervous seeing it; you’re good at your job and you know it. He’s going to know it too, by god.

“And what do you have to do with it, luv?”

Your smile stretches wider as you take that as an invitation to round his desk. He turns and shifts a bit to make room for you, eyebrows ticking up as you set a neatly paper-clipped report in front of him, highlighted for convenience.

“See here?” You point at one section, a list of finance records. “Inconsistencies that the accountants took two months to notice. Two!”

He grunts as you set it aside, face up, for further perusal and then show him the next set. Different highlighter (and a smiley face in the corner).

“And look here, doing it this way, we noticed the discrepancies within a week,” you explain.

He picks up the page, eyes scanning over it thoroughly before setting it down. Taps his index finger over the discrepancy (circled in bright red) twice.

“Would you happen to have the account — ah, thank you.”

You hum, smoothing the sticky note (hot pink, shaped like a heart) onto the page. “So what do you think, sir?”

He runs a hand down his face, palm rasping over his beard. But there is a grateful note to his gaze as he glances at you.

“We’ll be doing it this way from now on, then.”

“Thrilling, sir. I’ll send out a memo.”

He waves you off, frown already forming on his face. You politely leave his office, stop by the break room to make a fresh cup of tea (a dollop of cream only, no sugar) and knock on the closed door. It’s Gaz that opens it.

“For the boss,” you say. “Before heads start rolling.”

“You’re a doll,” he breathes, accepting the cup and slipping back inside.

You happily toddle back to your desk and begin calling appointment confirmations. You’ve got about a million emails and a hundred calls to make.

—

Working for Price also comes with some… eccentricities. For one, you have a driver now.

Usually Farah, sometimes her partner Alex. On the rare occasion it’s Gaz. They always usher you into the backseat. On rainy days (so, most days in the UK) they hold an umbrella over your head while you scurry into the luxury leather interior of whatever stupidly expensive ride you’re taking.

That was a non-negotiable when you and Mr. Price discussed the details of your employment contract with him. Something about safety…? You feel silly being driven to work as an assistant, but it was your first encounter with the Steel Gaze of Decision and it was unfortunately effective.

Not that you mind the rides! All three of your usual drivers are wonderful. So friendly and chatty. You love hearing about Alex’s niece and Farah’s hobbies, Gaz’s little “spats” with Soap. You spoil them with extra treats from whatever bakery you make them stop at for morning breakfast. (Always local, you love supporting small businesses and strong arm Price into doing so as well).

There’s the gun as well. You’ve only seen it once or twice, always discreetly hidden under his suit jacket. A shoulder holster, all black. Pretend that you don’t see it because… well, you’re not entirely sure it’s legal and you’d rather live in the blissful cloud of plausible deniability.

And speaking of — there’s his bodyguard. To be fair, bodyguards aren’t a new or weird presence with your bosses. Expensive men, they need protection. Ghost is a different kind though.

He always covers the lower half of his face — actually, he’s covered head to toe. Usually in black, sometimes with little skeleton or skull motifs. And he’s fucking big, which is saying something because Mr. Price isn’t a small man either.

Ghost hardly interacts with you, but he’s unfailingly polite when he does. Not talkative, but he holds doors for you, has walked you down to the car. Even once attitude-checked a guest that decided to be rude to you. Didn’t even say anything, just walked into the guy’s personal bubble and stared him down until he subsided. Then he turned, gave you a nod, and you squeezed his arm before toddling off to let Price know his appointment had arrived.

All around the vibes in the office are pleasant, if sometimes stuffy. A little odd. All of his employees are polite if not kind to you, and Price himself is a fair and reasonable man — at least with you.

(The first time you heard him raise his voice through the closed office door nearly scared the daylights out of you. He always uses a low, even tone when speaking to you, so to hear his voice booming like that was something of a shock. Even more shocking was when he opened the door — damn near throwing his “guest” out — before turning to you.

“Call Farah when you have a mo’, would you?” He asked, calm as you please.

You blinked, still having war flashbacks of your last boss. “Yes, sir.”

“Cheers, luv.”)

There’s also the “field trips” as you call them.

Mr. Price is something of a very “hands on” businessman (“micromanager” you tease when he’s in a good mood) who has a hand in several industries. One of them is shipping. Which means that sometimes you find yourself standing beside him in warehouses or at loading docks. And of course you have to go, you’re his assistant! You take meeting notes, provide information or report details. Basically act as his second brain while he reams out idiots or organizes plans.

You suck it up, but you rather hate the smell of low tide. And the occasional gusts of blood on the sea breeze from fishermen gutting their catches. Price catches you looking ill once or twice and at least makes an effort to keep things short after that.

“Poor thing,” Soap teases when you’re in the back of the car, fussing at your wind-swept hair. “Get a bit blown, did you?”

“MacTavish,” Price snaps.

That’s the other thing. Even the slightest hint of suggestive or inappropriate words at your expense are met with firm, almost harsh, reprimand from your boss. It does wonders for you nerves and your respect for him.

“Wish I’d known we were going to the docks,” you sigh, carefully picking at pins to fix your hair. “I would have used more hairspray.”

“Thought I told you?” Price says.

“No, sir, you did not,” you answer, long-suffering. “You know you can put it into the scheduling app, right?”

He blinks. “Scheduling app.”

You blink back at him. “Oh, dear. Here, look at this.”

You spend the entire ride back to the office showing him how your scheduling software works so that you don’t have to deal with any more surprise dock visits.

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[miffysrambles]

Hi,I have a request! How about a one shot of Wukong and Macaque (separate) they accidentally falling asleep cuddling together with (fem) s/o, for the first time then afterwards they can’t seem to being able to sleep well since then until they just finally snap and snatch reader away? Please and thank u!

P.s. sorry if this is a lot lol 😅

Wukong and Macaque Falling Asleep and Cuddling With S/O

(Sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy!)

Wukong:

You shifted awake in your bed in the middle of the night, feeling a presence having you in their grasp as the sheets were wrapped around the both of you.

You looked over in distress in your exhausted state but quickly calmed down to see your boyfriend’s tail peeking out from the mountain of blankets he was buried under.

Smiling, you kissed his nose as you rested back in his arms, you were slightly more awake now as you remembered how you had gotten into the accidental cuddling session.

Earlier, you watched your boyfriend practically beg to stay over for the night.

Wukong had wanted to sleep over because he was, to put it in honest terms, too lazy to travel back home.

You playfully argued with him, he was the Monkey King after all! It could take him mere minutes to get back to his own house, whether he traveled by cloud or just from his speed alone.

“Yeah but why do that when there is a nice comfy couch right here? C’mooon peaches, just for tonight?” He asked you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, you eventually agreed as long as he slept on the couch.

You’re relationship was still fairly new so you wanted to take things at a standard pace and he respected your wishes.

He responded by jumping onto the couch, resting his hands behind his head as he rested his leg up on his knee while sighing, “Haha! Man, this couch really is comfy, gonna have the best sleep of my life on this thing.”

You laughed softly, he was just being courteous with you, that couch was less than comfortable. You knew from personal experience.

You grabbed a few blankets and pillows from the linen closet and threw them on him while he lay on the couch, “Wha?- Hey!”

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, ‘If you need more from the closet, help yourself.”

He glared at you, eventually breaking into a small smile, “Oh I will! All the blankets will be out, and you will have to fold them all again!”

You grinned as you leaned down to his face and rubbed your nose against his, “Cheeky monkey…”

“You know you love me.” He responded, his tail wagging softly from the nose kiss. 

You finally helped him get to bed on the couch, saying your goodnights as you did your own bedtime routine and eventually settled under your blankets. 

It wasn’t even two hours later when you heard a knock on your door while reading a book on your phone, “Come in.” You called out to him.

“Yeahhh so funny thing (Name), that couch is super uncomfortable…” He pointed his index fingers together as he looked at the ceiling.

You grinned as you raised an eyebrow, “You lied so you could stay over didn’t you?”

You had caught him, making him laugh nervously, “Mayyyybbee?”

“And you want to sleep in here with me?”

“Mayyyybeee?...”

You chuckled as you nodded, “Come on in hon, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He beamed as he grabbed the pillows and blankets from the living room, settling down into the opposite side of the bed, making sure to give you your own space.

And that is how you got into this situation, You guess that in the middle of your sleep, you both broke the pillow barrier and started spooning each other. 

You weren’t complaining though, not in the slightest! Although you were a bit weary at first, you were now more than comfortable to do this again.

You were just not prepared for this to be a regular thing.

A few nights later, you were on the brink of sleep when you heard a tap on your bedroom window.

Groaning, you got up and opened the curtains to see Wukong on his cloud, still in his pajamas as he looked exhausted as well. 

Without saying a word when you opened the glass for him, he snatched you up and carried you to your bed.

“Wukong? What are you…” Your voice trailed off as he set you both on your bed, laying down next to you.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few nights since I slept over, guess I need you by my side sunshine…” he lowly chuckled as he pulled you closer to him. 

You smiled as you nuzzled into his chest, his fingers running through your hair, “Let’s make this a regular thing then.”

Macaque:

His arms were wrapped around you in a protective grasp, as if he never wanted to let you go.

Macaque was fast asleep when you shifted awake, his calm gentle breaths were more of an indicator for you as usually he was on edge and his breath was more heavy.

Macaque also had a habit of mumbling in his sleep, but it was so ineligible and quiet that you could never realize what he was actually saying.

His tail was wrapped around your waist as it held you close to him, you nuzzled your face into his shoulder as you were back on the brink of dreams yourself. 

This cuddling session happened by pure accident or even coincidence, you were just sitting next to him on his couch after watching him train in his dojo.

He set his shadow staff against the wall as he let out a sigh from being clearly exhausted, sitting next to you on the worn-down cushion, “You sure you don’t want to join me? I could teach you a few self-defense moves.”

You smiled as you politely shook your head, you would love to spend more time with your boyfriend any way you could but he could be a little intense while training.

“Alright, suit yourself dollface. Guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on you then?” He grinned while wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

Letting out a small laugh, you flirted back as you closed your eyes, “Guess you will.” You laid your head on his shoulder, making him hum contently. 

You both stayed in that position for a few minutes until you opened your eyes back up from the feeling of being pulled down onto the couch with him.

You looked over to see his half-lidded expression looking down at you, his lips cracking into a small smile.

You smiled back, of course, lying your head on his chest as his fingers ran through your hair and pressed small gentle kisses on your forehead. 

Your ear was pressed against his chest, hearing his heartbeat pound within him.

Ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump…

It was calm, a rare sound indeed.

“I can hear your heartbeat too y’know.”

His voice pulled you back into reality as you looked up at him, his hand caressing your face.

“I don’t need to have my ears pressed against your chest to hear yours, I can hear with the six ears and all that. Glad to hear you can relax that much around me…”

His words were genuine and affectionate, making you beam up at him as you nuzzled your cheek into his grasp,

“Of course I can, I love being around you. Even if it’s just watching you train.”

He brought your face up to his lips, pressing a loving kiss onto them.

“And I… I love you (Name).’

He had trouble saying the L word, so this moment was incredibly special to you.

“And I love you too Macaque.”

You nestled back onto his chest, making him smile down at you as he laid his head back on the armrest of the couch and closed his eyes for just a moment.

That moment turned into a cat nap, he was comfortable enough to let his guard down and actually sleep for once. 

You followed soon after, your eyes fluttering closed as you listened to the melodic sound of his heartbeat like it was a lullaby for you.

You both ended up sleeping for the rest of the evening, never once breaking the loving mutual grasp you two had created.

A few nights after, you were lying in bed struggling to fall asleep.

You were imagining his heartbeat in your mind to help, although nothing could ever beat the real thing.

You sighed as you held your pillow in your tight grasp, trying to imagine it was your boyfriend holding you in his arms.

It was not working, to say the least, it was making you miss him even more.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a shadow portal being summoned above your headboard, you looked up to see a pajama-wearing Macaque appear out of it.

He smiled down at you, “You too huh?”

You nodded as you held your arms up at him, “Mhm…” 

He happily obliged as he snatched you up in his arms, falling back onto your bed as he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight sugarplum” He held you in his arms, your ear immediately going to his chest to hear that addicting sound as your eyes finally closed for the night.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Birthday! Anything fma :).

a continuation of 1

Roy isn't comfortable with this.

"Get that look off your face," Riza says, looking over the brief while Falman straightens the medals on his jacket. "If you ruin this chance to make a treaty with Xerxes-"

"I'm not going to ruin anything," he says irritably, pushing Falman's hands away. "I am going to be diplomatic and courteous as I'm handed a human being as a possession and not bring up any sort of human rights violation-"

Riza shoots, the bullet whizzing past his ear. Roy doesn't so much as flinch, but Falman dives out of the way and Furey ducks beneath his desk, yelling, "Stop that! We're going to have to get the drywall fixed again! I'm going to get steel walls put in!"

"That would just cause ricochet," Havoc says, leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk and an unlit cigarette in his mouth. When his wife's ire is focused on Roy, she doesn't even bother to glare at him.

"You are not going to say any of that," Riza says. "You are going to smile and nod and thank the ambassador for the king's loan and entertain them for a few weeks and then sign the treaty and send them back and everything will be fine. Understand?"

"Yes," he says, "fine."

She stares at him for several moments. "We'll send in Hughes first. Just follow his lead." Then she mutters, not quietly enough, "We should have made him Fuhrer."

He doesn't get any respect around here.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for all the love for chapter 1. I really wasn't expecting everyone to like it so much!

word count: 1,334 words

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You break your fast with the Queen every morning, but today, you are hesitant to go. For the past few days she has been trying to convince you to set up another meeting with Lord Stark. You show no interest in such an arrangement but you know it is no use avoiding your mother.

You have your handmaiden help you dress for the day in an eye-catching, sapphire gown. It’s low-cut but not in a way that wouldn’t be considered respectable. You may set many trends in fashion with being the only daughter of the Queen but you are still a princess after all. You have your hair done up elaborately and forgo donning your neck with jewels because you enjoy making the courtiers stare. You like tempting the men who will never be your suitors the most. Making your way to your mother’s solar, your gaze falls on a serving boy for perhaps a moment too long. He blushes. You think that you may call on him specially to serve your tea tonight; just because you won’t marry him, doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy him. Ser Erryk holds the door open for you when you get to the Queen’s chambers but an issue arises when you notice her guest.

“Lord Stark.” You attempt to put a smile on your face when you notice your betrothed dining with your mother. It comes out more like a grimace.

“Oh darling, I thought you would much rather break your fast with your betrothed today.” Rhaenyra smiles sweetly but you can see the pointed look in her gaze. She knows how desperately you’ve been trying to avoid Cregan Stark. “I’ll have my meal with the Dowager Queen.”

“Of course, mother. Thank you for the kind gesture.” You say through gritted teeth.

She exits the room, leaving you with only Cregan and a cupbearer. You stand, unmoving, near the door. He stands where he had risen from his chair in light of your presence. He awkwardly waits for you to take your seat so he may also be seated again. You make no signs of moving.

“Perhaps you would like to grant your feet a moment's rest, princess?” He gestures to the chair next to him.

You glare at him. “I do not need to be prompted by you in order to seat myself.” You decide to settle down in the chair across from him instead of the one he invited you to.

“Of course.” Lord Stark tries his best to not roll his eyes at you. “I was pleased when her Grace requested another meeting be set up between the two of us.”

“Were you?” You look at him, amused. You can’t imagine that the man still wishes to court you after your first encounter.

“I am pleased to have any chance to spend more time with my betrothed. Especially when she is as fair as you are, princess.” He says, turning up the charm all the way. “Might I also say that your dress looks absolutely ravishing on you.”

“I know it does. That’s why I selected it.” You say with a roll of your pretty doe eyes.

“A wise selection it was.” Cregan comments, somehow managing to stay courteous.

You fill your plate, taking your pick from the vast variety of fruits and you grab a single lemon tart at the end.

“Do you enjoy lemon tarts?” He says, attempting to keep the conversation flowing.

“No.” You say sarcastically before taking a bite.

“I take it that you still don’t care for conversation?” He speaks, his tone betraying him by revealing a hint of his annoyance.

“Not with any of the men that vied for my hand.” You answer shortly.

“I did not vie for your hand. The Queen gave it to me.” He seems almost offended by your words. You’re sure that a man like him has never had to compete for a woman before.

“Oh good. I’m glad to know that I am not a prize to be won but a gift to be given. What relief that brings me.” He cringes at your words.

“I did not say that and you know it isn’t what I meant.” He says firmly, his patience starting to grow thin.

“I’m sure it isn’t.” You say passively. As if the conversation isn’t worth your time.

“Princess, please help me understand why you seem to despise me so.” Your betrothed is clearly spiteful from the fact that he has been saddled with a woman that has next to no interest in him.

“I don’t despise you, Lord Stark.”

“Then tell me why you act as if marrying me is the worst fate the gods could have bestowed upon you.”

“I value my freedom, my lord.” You say simply.

“I do not intend to keep you prisoner.” He says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

He doesn’t understand. They never understand that being kept prisoner doesn’t always mean being held in a cell. Being free isn’t defined by your arms lacking physical shackles.

“I can see that this betrothal is not what you want but unity between the Starks and the Targaryens is what the realm needs.” He adds.

“I know what is good for the realm. My mother is Queen.” You say defensively.

He pauses for a moment and takes a bite of the pastry on his plate, washing it down with a sip of Arbour Red wine. He is clearly thinking about his words, wondering what to say that would upset you the least. “Of course, princess. So you evidently agree that your mother’s wishes, as Queen, must be followed?” You’re not really sure where he is going with this, if he has a point or is just trying to figure something out for his own benefit.

“Do you think I would be sitting here if that wasn’t the case?” you say condescendingly. 

Another pause from your betrothed. It seems that Lord Stark is considering his options. He then gives you a tight smile. “My house is very honour bound. You will have your freedom through Winterfell and I will never hurt a hair on your head, nor let anyone else bring harm to you. You may bring as many of your ladies in waiting as you would like and I will not bother you often if you don’t wish for it.” He lays it out straight for you, the benefits of having him as a husband. At this point, all he wants is for you to not be so bitter towards him.

You stare at him for a moment. You do seem to be a little enticed by the amount of control he is inclined to grant you. You consider being agreeable by simply giving him a nod of your head but that anger still tugs at the back of your mind. The fact that you will be wed to this man with or without your approval makes you sick. “I don’t require your protection. I have a dragon.” He sighs and looks almost disappointed.

“I offer you more than protection.” He says, firm in his beliefs that he would make a fine husband to you.

“Clearly because I get to bring my Ladies in waiting with me to the North. Hurrah.” You say with a straight face. “What shall you offer for me and me alone? Something that isn’t just for the progression of the realm?” You ask inquisitively.

“Well… I would like to make you happy.” He says carefully and you hope he doesn’t catch how you let your face soften for just a moment.

You have no idea how to respond to that. The sentiment seems so intrinsic and shallow and yet… you don’t believe that you’ve heard the words fall from a single suitor's mouth until him. 

“Oh.” The filler word falls stupidly from your mouth. The conversation does not continue on from there. You just pick up your lemon tart and eat with him in silence

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-It Friday Coda

Here is my 7x01 coda that I'm also counting for Fuck-It Friday! So thank you for the tags @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @jesuisici33 and @diazsdimples! Posted to ao3 here.

“How the talk with Chris go? He still seeing being a two timer?” Marisol asks with a sly smile.

Eddie blows out a harsh breath, “There wasn’t much of a talk on my end.”

She quirks an eyebrow, “Oh? You just letting him work it on his own?”

He shakes his head, “Oh god no. That would have just made an even bigger mess.” Eddie has to look away from his girlfriend as he admits, “Actually I asked Buck to talk to him. He has some um... experience with the whole ‘player’ thing.”

Marisol’s wine glass smacks loudly on the coffee table in the silence that follows, and Eddie barely holds back a wince. Still, he doesn’t look at her. He never does when speaking about Buck.

“You had your newly single best male friend, with a history of getting around, talk to your son about not doing the exact same thing?” Marisol sound appalled and it has Eddie whipping around to see her actual reaction. His girlfriend looked upset and disgusted? What is that about?

“Um, yea. Buck has the insight into all of that and he’s reformed and all that.” Eddie tries defending.

She scoffs, “Reformed? Didn’t he just break up with his last girlfriend because he got bored.”

Well, that was a very poor recount of events that had already been poorly told by Buck and Eddie felt the low simmer of burgeoning anger, “Buck did not get bored. He was trying to live, move on from his death, and all that woman was doing, was being a constant reminder of it.”

The anger rises at Marisol rolling her eyes, “Like I said, bored. But that’s not really the point here.”

He grinds his back molars, “What is the point then, in your opinion?”

She narrows her eyes at his tone, “The point is Christopher isn’t going to learn to respect women, be a courteous young man by talking to a man whose disastrous dating history is printed in a best-selling book by someone from said history. He’s Christopher’s fun friend, the guy he goes to when he doesn’t want to get in trouble and you’re feeding into it.”

Eddie slams his beer to the coffee table, making Marisol’s almost empty wine glass wobble from the force, and rises his feet, “After me, Buck is one of the most important people in Christopher’s life. You have not a single understanding of what they are to each other, what they have been through. What Buck has personally been through. He is not some womanizing asshole corrupting my son. He is Christopher’s best friend; my best friend, and the person I know I can turn to when I need help with Christopher. With anything.”

Marisol rises to her feet, “And you’re allowing him to continue take up the space I am trying to get into. I thought we we’re getting somewhere when you invited me to chaperon Chris’s date with you, when you opened up about your worries about him. But instead of letting me try to help you ran to a person you can’t bring up without looking away.”

He immediately proves her point and puts his gaze on the fireplace mantle, eyes roaming over every photo. There several of just him and his son, pre-LA to just last year before Christopher’s school dance. There are pictures of their family back in Texas and the entirety of the 118. Then there are photos with Buck. Christopher and Buck at the zoo. The trio of them at the mall fountain. Eddie’s graduation. Christopher’s 10th birthday. And second to last, Eddie and Buck, arms around each other’s shoulders at Hen and Karen’s vow renewal. At the end of all those photos sits the last family picture of Eddie, Christopher, and Shannon took at the beach.

Eddie thinks back on the picture Christopher turned down on his desk and the letter he almost didn’t read. He thinks about how his first instinct was to turn to Buck and not the girlfriend who witnessed Christopher’s player antics, someone who could give insight on how those girls felt. And then he realizes, Christopher wouldn’t have opened up about his mother to anyone, but Buck.

That space Marisol is trying to fit herself into, is too large, too broad, and perfectly Buck shaped.  She would never fit.

With a sense of déjà vu, Eddie drops his gaze to floor and softly states, “I think you should go.”

💜🩷💜🩷

Wine glass rinsed out, beer bottle in the recycling, and a reusable tote bag just barely filled with Marisol’s few items left at his house sat near the door, Eddie relaxes back into his couch.

Marisol put up a lack-luster fight to leaving, but eventually she drowned the last of her wine and called an uber. “He’s not going stick around forever. He’s going to break both yours and Christopher’s hearts.” She warned, “And you’ll be just as alone as you were in the hardware store.”

Eddie held back a harsh retort and simply told her, “I haven’t been alone since I met him and I never will be if either one of us has a say about it.”

He opened the door, Marisol got into a little gray sedan, and she went back to the home Eddie helped destroy.

Picking up his phone from the coffee table, Eddie pulls up his contact favorites, smirking humorously at Marisol’s missing name, and presses the person at the very top. It rings twice, before, “Hey man, thought it was date night?”

“Asked her to go home.” Eddie replies.

Silence on the other end for a just a moment then, “Man, you really need to find a better way to break up with women.” Buck teases.

Eddie chuckles, “Well at least there was no mess to clean up this time.”

Buck hums in agreement before softly asking, “You doing okay?���

Not a single lie passed his lips when he answered, “More than. But you know what would help?”

“What?”

“Go-karts in the dessert.”

A laugh that makes Eddie feel warm all over, “It’s a date.”

Hope you all enjoyed! Tagging (no pressure): @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @perfectlysunny02 @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie

[mercuriians]

hello!!! I saw that your requests were open, can I request some drabbles with Welt and Jing Yuan with an overly cautious s/o, discovering them wearing something of theirs as comfort? (ex. They catch reader out and about calmer then usual, and the after a bit realize reader is wearing an article of their clothing? (Maybe for Welt, one of his old scarves, wrapped around their neck, covering half of their face. For Jing Yuan an old long sleeve turtlekneck, that's so loose on reader that it looks like a dress)

Thank youu

✒️

breathe me in

content info — gn! reader, fluffy drabbles w/ the lovely mr. yang & jing yuan (separate!!), reader is mentioned to be a cloud knight in jing yuan's part, & a morsel of hurt/comfort if you squint.

word count — 0.9k words.

author's note — mm i liked writing this a lot! welt's been one of my favs since the start and i've grown fond of jing yuan too. i love them. thank you for being my first requester, anon!! <3

WELT YANG.

seeing as your boyfriend is, hands down, one of the most observant people you've ever come across, it's only inevitable for him to notice one particular change in your appearance. he's barely entered the parlor car when he spots some sort of brown fabric comfortably stretched across the width of your neck. the realization dawns not even a second later—that's his scarf, one of the several that have grown weathered over the limitless journeys.

still, once welt sees the serene, relaxed expression on your face, and how the stiff vigilance in your eyes has melted—that alone brings out a tiny smile from him—he comes to the conclusion that you pay no attention to the scarf's loose threads and holes. or, that you do, but you don't care about them.

finally, your eyes meet his, your lips curving into a familiar little smile of your own. he walks over to where you're sitting before taking his place next to you. "hey, baby." you greet him tenderly.

"hi, dear," welt hums. with no one else—besides pom pom of course—in the parlor car at the moment, he reaches for your hand without any trace of hesitation. his fingers, calloused yet warm, envelop yours. "i see you've found one of my old scarves. i'd honestly almost forgotten that they were still in my drawer."

"yeah, you caught me.." vaguely, you start to look bashful, your gaze drifting elsewhere, your teeth nibbling softly on your lower lip.

however, he's quick to appease your diffidence. the man says his next words with the kind of adoration that can never be faked. "it looks far better on you than it could have ever been on me."

wide with surprise, your eyes find his. "you.. you mean that?" you whisper, but your heart is already swelling with joy.

welt leans down to place a careful, meaningful kiss on your forehead. "forever and always, my love."

JING YUAN.

the present moment was likely the worst time for your clumsiness to show. just a second ago, your foot had slipped on the loose material of jing yuan's burgundy turtleneck. barely managing not to fall on your face, you stumble into your shared chambers. what really makes your cheeks burn in humiliation, however, is what happens next.

without a warning, the general of the xianzhou luofu bursts into laughter.

it's not his usual kind of laugh, either; instead of being brief, restrained, and courteous, it's prolonged, loud, and unbridled. one would almost think that he's cackling, if not for the respectable kind of individual that he happens to be.

"do my actions entertain you that much, general?" you grumble with your arms crossed, a forced, but mild anger lacing your tone.

once he hears your words, jing yuan ceases his hysterics. "why do you address me so formally, darling?" he asks, clearing his throat despite the remnants of mirth still lingering within his aureate eyes.

"maybe because you seemed unable to control your emotions a second ago," you retort. your answer doesn't even fully make sense, you're well aware, but by now the shame covers you from head to toe. you can't exactly find the effort needed to care.

still, the general maintains his appropriately perceptive nature. sensing your change in mood, he quickly and efficiently dispels all traces of amusement. he pats the vacant spot next to him. "come, sit with me."

you move to sit down next to him, your movements completely quiet except for your breathing. this time you make sure that you don't trip on your boyfriend's annoyingly long turtleneck. to jing yuan's surprise, you speak first. "i'm sure you've noticed what i'm wearing," you start, and he nods affirmatively. "i found it while i was cleaning your closet."

you look down, nervously pulling on the sleeve. "it reminded me of you, so i put it on. it.. it helps me feel normal, i guess, like i don't have to constantly put my guard up."

there's a stubborn beat of silence that ensues, and with your unease growing, you lift your head to meet jing yuan's eyes. however, your worries are futile; the look on his face tells you that he understands completely.

of course he does.

"i'm sorry for laughing earlier, my beloved." the man says earnestly. "i was just taken by surprise, especially since your steadfast caution is of another level. to put it into other words, i suppose.." jing yuan trails off, taking a moment to properly articulate his thoughts. "it makes me glad that even a strict, unwavering lieutenant of the cloud knights has their moments of humanity."

with the way your boyfriend gazes into your eyes, you're unable to do anything else but let your embarrassment slip away, subdued by what you know to be jing yuan's love. "and it makes me glad that even a general of the xianzhou has their moments of immaturity," you giggle softly. the man shakes his head, amused once again.

"i'll offer you a deal, darling. if i kiss you, perhaps, will you promise to forgive me?" jing yuan hums, his large hands already reaching out to trace the familiar hem of the turtleneck.

"i already have," you smile, but nonetheless you lean in, taking in his placating scent of cedarwood, fresh ink, and earthy leather. your eyes slide shut, lithe arms circling around your boyfriend's strong neck as your lips meet his. his fingers dip underneath your clothing, tenderly ghosting over your skin as he kisses you more deeply.

neither of you pull away for a long while.

[altocat]

i'm still following first soldier's plot just from these posts but how is young sephiroth portrayed? is he evil or like he was in crisis core or what

Young Sephiroth is depicted as being confused, insecure, and kind of brainwashed from years of conditioning under Shinra. First Soldier provided some interesting aspects and moments for his character, which I'll bullet for you here real quick.

Sephiroth has never been on a real mission before this one. Most of his "accomplishments" so far have been fabricated lies under Shinra for propaganda purposes. Despite him simultaneously being freakishly strong and overpowered thanks to the Jenova cells.

Sephiroth is also apparently incredibly sheltered as he comes across as very socially awkward and kind of shy when he isn't sticking to Shinra's script. It's implied he's barely ever interacted with actual people outside of a controlled setting.

Sephiroth carries a locket of his mother Lucrecia (who he refers to as Jenova) and at this point still believes her to be alive and is looking for her. He apparently asks everyone he meets to see if they know anything about her. He loses this locket offscreen btw and it's bullshit.

Sephiroth is a brainwashed child soldier and often spouts fucked up logic/Shinra propaganda in order to justify his more violent actions. He conveys an extremely paranoid world view that if he doesn't fight, he'll be killed or hurt. This obv speaks to the conditions Shinra put him under during training.

That said, Sephiroth actively dislikes his status as a "hero" and just wants to find his mom and live a normal life. He breaks down crying after killing a bunch of child soldiers his own age and says that he never wanted to be what he is.

Sephiroth occasionally has moments where he acts like an actual little kid, giggling over Glenn's jokes, wanting the group's approval, and often coming off as being kind of timid and overly respectful. He has two modes--hardass leader sticking to a schedule and a literal child trying to push himself too hard because that's all he was ever taught.

Most of the time he's pretty supportive and courteous, if not overly polite. He clearly really wants to impress his team and often apologizes whenever he makes a mistake. He's leader, but he's figuring things out.

Lastly, and strangely most importantly, the stupid Halloween Event of all things confirmed that Hojo has been abusing/torturing Sephiroth for most of his life and is likely the reason why Sephiroth pushes himself so hard.

Currently, Sephiroth's story is still unfinished. The game makes it clear that he's grown very attached to his new team and feels responsible for protecting them from danger. He and main character Glenn have formed a brotherly bond of sorts and Sephiroth willingly goes against Shinra's orders in order to follow his team to rescue another boy his age from danger (Rosen). Rosen and Sephiroth are expected to have an encounter next chapter and it's very strongly implied that Sephiroth will end up killing Rosen as a means of trying to protect his group/some other reason. It's gonna be fucked up and emotional either way.

[highlordofkrypton]

ACOTAR Omegaverse Week // Day 1 - Nesting (Submission #2)

Shoutout to everyone that requested Tamcien for @acotar-omegaverse-week! While this isn't the main Tamcien I have planned, please enjoy this amuse bouche while the real meal is being cooked for later this week 🙏

Thank you to @matrixsss, @lzrsaugust, @yaralulu, @thrumbolt and ESPECIALLY @achaotichuman for opening my ship horizons and getting me to write Tamcien!!

SUMMARY: Lucien has one rule. Inside his study, he has to work. Tamlin is very respectful of his space, but that doesn't mean he can't complain about it.

PAIRING: Alpha! Lucien x Omega! Tamlin

TAGS: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Nesting

Read on AO3 or beneath the cut.

LIGHTWORK

"Are you done?"

"Not yet."

Lucien doesn't lift his eyes from the parchment before him. He's not even halfway through the stack. It's no one's fault but his own. Time management has always been important; it was drilled into him from a young age. Beaten into him, if he was too early or too late.

The Spring Court is much kinder to his failings, but that doesn't mean Lucien should get too comfortable. There is a debt to repay and he promised to keep this Court in order and represent his new home to the best of his ability, which includes addressing correspondences promptly without pressuring the senders. He times everything perfectly so that those reaching out to him may bask in their accomplishment of reaching out, and relax for a handful of days before he obliges them to respond with a response of his own. It is courteous to wait.

Tamlin struggles with the notion. He has been pacing outside of Lucien's study since this morning. He has left twice, once to get a snack, then to address a complaint in the gardens from the other denizens about the cherry tomatoes encroaching on their space. The bushes have bloomed far too much for the liking of the other leafy greens that are used to being the star of the gardens.

"Are you done now?" Tamlin huffs, pacing outside the door again.

It's not that he isn't allowed in the study, but they made a rule. Cross the threshold and it is business only. Too many times they have been distracted and far too many times Lucien has had to replace the desk. It's just not sustainable and it's wasteful. Those are Tamlin's own values, and yet when they're together, it's so easy to toss logic out the window.

Lucien can scent Tamlin—his anticipation, his eagerness and his desire.

He finishes up his last letter, feeding it to the sparrow at the window. It preens, flaring its leafy wings and plucking the letter out of Lucien's slender fingers before flying off.

"I am done and I have your daily report," he stands, adjusting the tails of his coat. Lucien picks up his list of important points that must be conveyed to the High Lord of the Spring Court. He approaches Tamlin who cannot stand still for a moment.

"First, we should discuss this season's—Oh," the Autumn son says softly as he's lifted and hauled over Tamlin's shoulder. The position gives him a direct view of Tamlin's ass. "Wonderful," he deadpans. The likelihood of Tamlin listening to a single word of his carefully crafted report has gone out the window completely. "Aren't I too heavy to tote around like a child?"

"No. This is light work."

Lucien sighs. He dangles over Tamlin's shoulder, tossing his papers in the air because what does it matter? After a moment, he is casually tossed into a very tall pile of leaves in one of the additional rooms with a fireplace. Underneath it, an immeasurable amount of pillows catch him. The fire crackles comfortably, despite Spring's constant perfect and tolerable weather. He scents the fragrant scent of pumpkins, cinnamon and other Fall scents. It reminds him of home.

He lays there as Tamlin climbs into the very messy pile of nature and comfort. Tamlin curls into his side, hugging him close. Lucien's hand automatically goes to his soft blonde hair, caressing him lovingly.

"This is very… autumnal."

"Mm," Tamlin hums. "I thought you might miss home."

"Spring Court is my home. I thought this was supposed to be your nest."

"It is. You are my home, whether we're in Spring, Autumn, Winter or Summer. I don't care." Tamlin has every intention to keep him at his side now and forever.

"You're not going to let me leave, are you?"

"Nope."

"You big baby," Lucien says with the utmost affection. "Come here and let me kiss you."

[cordeliawhohung]

Important:

Under the cut, I'm going to be talking about domestic and sexual violence, general unsafe scenarios, and my boundaries regarding my pet!au series (though, this heavily extends to ALL my works) and the expectations i have for people who interact with me through my writing and what is sent to me in my inbox.

While I understand that I write dark topics in many of my works, covering things from domestic violence, to graphic sexual violence; I am still a human being. I know it's easy to pretend I'm just some random person, some faceless creature through a screen, or whatever other way you may perceive me, but please, be thoughtful and courteous of the things you say to me/send me in my asks. It's extremely inappropriate to send me graphic descriptions of things you are going through/have gone through in relation to what I'm writing or what my works have depicted. It's unhealthy for both me and for you to send me unsolicited stories of detailed abuse, especially because I am in no position to help you.

It's normal for writing to illicit strong emotional responses, and I am genuinely so thankful that my writing has been cathartic for so many of you. You are more than welcome to share with me that something I've written has helped you, or touched you in some sort of way: I just ask that you please spare me the graphic details. It is damaging, and I will not respond to those asks and slap such heavy, unfiltered content for others to see.

You may think that you know me, and feel safe enough sharing such intimate details about the darker parts of your life with me, but I ask that you please don't because you truly do not know me well enough to dump anything heavily triggering like that onto me. It's very flattering, and I'm glad I come across kind, and as a safe person (because I try to be!!) but it makes me severely uncomfortable. I simply will not tolerate it.

I do not wish to discourage anyone from sharing their trauma, or experiences in general. Obviously, talking about things can be really healing and therapeutic. I am not saying you must keep everything to yourself and bottle up these very complicated feelings. I just beg of you to please ensure that the person you are speaking with is able and willing to bear the things you're about to share with them; and I am making it very clear that I am not that person. I wish I could be that person for everyone, but I simply cannot. The emotional turmoil, the stress of not being able to help, it's extremely unhealthy for me. Especially when I am essentially coerced into doing so. Share your experiences in a healthy, and beneficial way. Dumping an experience (or several) onto someone who has not had the chance to back out of the conversation is damaging, and something I can't afford and will not tolerate.

If you find yourself in need of someone to confide in, there are hotlines and other mediums of support you can seek. While I'll admit, sometimes hotlines or online help isn't always the greatest, it is certainly more effective than I'll ever be. Here are some resources (I believe based in the USA) if you find yourself needing them.

National Domestic Violence Hotline

RAINN Sexual Violence Support Hotline

It is gut wrenching knowing people relate to Bonnie in pet!au in any capacity, but I ask you guys to respect these very clear boundaries. I would hate to have to stop writing/take down the story because of inappropriate or harmful behavior in my inbox.

[badchoicesworld]

Hola this is my first req

Might I request hcs for Hobie and Miles (separately) x male reader who is a fellow super hero with a mutation in his jaw that gave him a snake bite?(sharp teeth, unhinging jaw, venom)

Despite how scary reader can look he is very kind and courteous (and head over heels for his spider boy) and Hobie and Miles help him get over his insecurities about smiling around others

Fluffy and romantic pls (sorry if it too specific lol)

Thank you and keep being awesome

😎🫶 - Crax

hobie and miles with snake mutated boyfriends !

welcome back crax lmao, the request slapped dw, you nailed it !

AND IM SO SORRY for keeping you waiting, shit kept going on in my life

separate, established relationships

warnings: hobie brown ?

pairing: hobie brown x male!reader, miles morales x male!reader

requests: refer to the masterlist please !

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

you wanna know how many fucks hobie gives about the mutation ? zero

in like the most respectful but effortlessly cool way

mutations are nothing new to him, man fights mutants on the daily

just views it as an extension of yourself, it’s apart of who you are

if you can accept that, he’s happy

would absolutely be a hype man if not though, he don’t fuck w insecurity

one thing i think he’d reference a lot ? medusa, because of that one sticker on his guitar

maybe he’s a huge greek mythology guy and thinks that your mutation is a sign for this and that- like that one comment he made about metaphors for capitalism, i think he liked to analyse things like an english student

with your unhinging jaw and venomous bite he liked to say some absurd stuff like “just goes to show how independence and self sufficiency can overcome the norms regardless of [politics]” hinting at that while you may have some unconventionally appreciated features, you’re able to rise above it and be a hero like a badass

so that being said, he thinks your smile alone is dope and can represent so much more if you want it to

if you wear a mask or something to cover it up, he’ll never insist on taking it off unless you’re comfortable, it’s not his place to dictate what you wear

he may however make a comment or two about it

“hope you’re not wearin’ tha’ to cover up them teeth of yours” ur teeth are so cool

if you’re insecure about how like exposed ur teeth are when you smile, Hobie gets into the habit of pulling his cheek back w his finger when smiling (at the appropriate times) just to show there’s nothin to be afraid of

sticks his tongue out too for funsies, ESPECIALLY if you’ve got a forked tongue

it’s a true shame getting ur tongue split is illegal in the UK, he’d love to match

at the end of the day when alls said and done, if you can’t bring yourself to feel comfortable in your own skin while you’re out and about, he’ll make it clear that he doesn’t care about your unhinging jaw or teeth or venom in private, cause that’s where it counts in his head

he thinks you look badass and really doesn’t think you should pay attention to what other people think anyway, under any circumstances

but especially when you go out there together and make a genuine difference in the world as heroes, even if you don’t call yourselves that

has once cracked a joke along the lines of “my boyfriend will bite you” and it was actually a threat, in the most loving way

miles

he might be like- a bit surprised the first time meeting you, maybe have some slightly insensitive questions but he means no offence

he just can’t keep his mouth shut sometimes

i think he’s a tiny bit afraid at first but warms up quickly, miles doesn’t seem like a snake guy and i can see him being the associating anything with everything kinda guy

definitely felt guilty for that one now ur boyfriends

massive fan of drawing you and your snake-ness, you look so funky in his style

really likes being heroes together :]

took a double take the first time he saw your jaw unhinge but now he seems jealous at times

after having a super serious conversation about it he immediately says something so off handed that it completely cuts whatever tension there might have been

makes an excellent point that you could swallow a burber whole, he thinks that’s an accomplishment fs

“you can eat a burger in one, that’s skill.” he’s so sure of himself while saying that

there’s something very terrifying but reassuring and endearing about you having such a dangerous mouth with you ur venom and such, used some strange ass logic like “he COULD kill me, but he won’t”

so when you are comfortable just being urself and not covering up your smile, he honestly feels really grateful and trusted

mans never gonna break that trust, he’s never gonna hurt you

ur polite asf too so he doesn’t even second guess introducing you to his parents, doesn’t think things along the lines of “gonna introduce my snake boyfriend” it’s more like “he’s so polite this is an easy win”

IF YOU SMILE HE SMILES, that’s all i’m sayin

therefore, you should smile more and not go out of your way to hide it

he won’t really say anything if you actively choose to in public, you might catch him lookin a bit sympathetic from the corner of your eye if he notices you purposely doing it

it’s not his place to say a thing, but he’d really appreciate it if you got out of that habit, and he’s happy to help

like he might busy your hands just so you don’t subconsciously cover your mouth, that kinda things

he could do this by holding them or whatever

please don’t be embarrassed of urself, you are so so handsome

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

sorry it’s not insanely romantic ?? i cant really see these boys being like that so i kinda struggled a bit w that

sorry if this is just not great overall i’ve been out of it shshshs

[fandomwritingbit]

How about Drunk William being a little too loud while yelling at his tv that AFAB!reader (neighbor) asks him to tone the noise down but instead he convinces her to come inside for drinks but ends up in a sticky situation.

My guy, I read this request at 4 in the morning and physically vibrated with excitement. This is so good, thank you!

I changed it a little- but I hope this is the ticket! 

Drunk William x afab reader - Bad Neighbours

Arguing and smut below the cut xx

From directly above you the sound of metal scraping against the floor again woke you up. It sounded like the person in the flat above you was rearranging their whole set up, a drag and then a thump, shortly followed by glass clinking; it’s maddening.

What the fuck is that noise? Your brain finally snaps, for God’s sake, it’s so late, well past the half eleven noise curfew and you’ve got work in the morning. It’d be another thing entirely if the sound happened once or twice but it had been on and off for hours, pulling you in and out of sleep in the most brutal way.

Sitting up in bed, you rub your eyes to better see your phone screen, which stung your eyes in the pitch black of your bedroom. 03:12. You exhale from your nose, more than pissed off. 

Tired induced anger motivated you to put a jacket on over your sleep shorts and vest, grab your keys and stomp out of your flat. Only recalling the need to be courteous when you see the night sky out the windows. You don’t bother with the lift, b-lining for the stairs and following them up to the next floor in your building, eager to give the person who lived above you a piece of your mind. You have no idea who lives there, your knowledge limited to your floor, and even then you didn’t know your neighbours that well. 

You make it up the stairs quickly and head to the door with the same letter as you, the one directly overhead. There you knock on the door, firmly but not too loud out of respect for neighbours - if any of them could feasibly sleep with that racket going on. And from inside you can hear the rustling of someone standing up and walking over to the door, so you steel yourself waiting for confrontation. Keys jangle and thud against the door as the inhabitant clearly missed the lock, making you sigh, great, a pisshead.

Finally your neighbour manages to unlock their door and it swings open revealing perhaps the tallest man you’ve ever seen. So much so that you have to tilt your head to find his eyes, he squinted with the harsh light of the hallway before fixing you with a bemused stare. He’s so attractive that you briefly forget what you came here for. 

“You alright, love?” the man asks a little slurred, eyebrows raised as he waits for you to say something. Seriously, who knocks on someone’s door and doesn’t say anything? 

You blink, remembering you’re angry, scoffing a laugh, “Not really, mate. I mean, come on. Some of us have work in the morning, what the hell are you doing in there?” You speak too quickly for him and it takes a second for your interrogation to register. 

“Dropped a glass.” he shrugs, before flashing you a stunning grin. “Though I’d have been more careful if I knew it would wake a cute thing like you.”

You’re taken aback and just laugh a little. “Yeah, sure. Look that noise wasn’t just a glass, whatever fucking DIY you’re doing, save it for normal hours, yeah?” 

He sniggers at your tone, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, sorry, sweetheart. I’ll stop.” He held up his hands, swaying slightly at the change of posture that his drunk mind wasn’t ready for. “Honestly, you always so tightly wound?

His condescending question might as well have struck a match because you move closer to the door, trying not to raise your voice, “Listen, mate, I didn’t come here for an argument- just to ask you nicely to pack it in-” 

“Well, I’m sure you can be nicer than that, sweetheart.” Somewhat understandably, he didn’t flinch from your form, instead just meeting it, hand on the doorframe for support. His eyes looked you up and down for a moment before he continued, “But it’s alright, you’re clearly upset. Why don’t you come in… I’ve got some class whiskey.”

~

In little more than 5 minutes you have so many questions for yourself and most of them begin with why. Why did you say yes and come into this man’s flat? How did you think this could possibly be a good idea? Why did you let him press you against the front door? Why is your tongue in his mouth? Why aren’t you going to stop? 

The answer to the majority of these is probably ‘because this fella is hot, like really hot.’ 

His frame practically consumes you pressed up against this door, his touch clumsy and down to the point dirty, large hands squeezing your arse. You grunt some kind of approval, grinding your hips against this stranger’s crotch, feeling the prominent and hard bulge that you just couldn’t wait to quite literally get your hands on. Almost grinning when you realise that the only taste of that ‘class whiskey’ you were going to get, being the taste of it on his tongue, and it could be arousal talking but he was right, it was fucking delicious.

Almost before you can register it, you’re pulling this man’s shirt up to gain access to his waistband and letting him suck inelegant kisses on your neck. Much too eagerly pulling down his trousers and boxers and grabbing the hardness no longer concealed. You still can’t quite believe this is happening and you just stroke his stiffness utterly mesmerised, hearing him grunt against your skin, whilst his hands pull down the straps of your vest enough to free your tits. Feeling brave, you tilt your hips up, now rubbing his cock with the tip resting against your core, the feeling somehow making you wetter than you already are. 

He pulls your shorts to the side to reveal your glistening pussy for him, then two fingers slide between your legs, collecting your slick before giving your clit some much needed attention. Even nearly mortal, as this bloke clearly was, he still knew exactly what he was doing, his thumb putting delicious pressure on your bundle of nerves and fingers diving between your folds and pushing intoxicatingly inside you. 

“Fuck…” You moan, your breath almost ragged as his movements tighten the coil inside you. There was really no finesse to it at all, your hips rolling against his fingers bordering on embarrassing, and no doubt that shame would catch up with you tomorrow. But right now, you just want to cum so bad. 

You’re letting him fuck his fingers in and out of you, trying to stroke his cock while rutting against him, the amount of stimulus too much for this time of the morning, especially when confronted with this guy who knew all the buttons to push to have you a gooey sticky mess. You’re almost at the top of your climb, pulling him towards you by his arm, looking at him with your lip between your teeth in a hope that he knows what you're thinking, his fingers shoving you closer by the second. And just- just as you’re there, the screaming taste of climax coating your tongue, he pulls out of your hole, leaving you clenching around nothing. 

You groan in disappointment, shoving your hips forward to silently demand that you want more. Taking his cock, you notch it against your entrance, the precum leaking from him sticking to your overflowing pussy, which his drunk brain just can’t cope with. And he’s pulling one of your legs up, draping it over his waist to let his body that bit closer to you so he can press his dick inside you. Clearly tiredness had blinded you to his size because, to say the least, it’s a surprise. You claw at him in pleasure tinted shock, by the time he’s fully sheathed your climax begins to resurface, spurred on by that fucking delicious stretch. 

He grunts when he hits the hilt, your little pussy tight and fluttering around him, and it could be the drink, or the unexpected encounter but he knows he won’t last long with a grip like that. You have no doubt that if someone was on the other side of this door they’d hear the sloppy sound of your cunt taking him in, louder as he became more greedy with how he was fucking you. He’s going so hard it’s almost like he’s forgotten you’re there, and you’re right on your peak, leg and hands wrapped tight around this stranger. Falling apart when he shoves his hand on your clit, instantly making your hips buck forwards as those familiar blinding waves took you over. 

He groans with the vice-like fluttering of your walls, reaching the ‘fuck it’ point of reasoning when he just chased his own creeping end. Thrusting into you through your climax before pulling out of your twitching pussy to spread his release on your lower stomach. 

He laughs, when he’s finished painting you, pulling away to fix himself as you do the same, the reality of it becoming apparent when your shorts cling to the stickiness coating all of your lower half. What a fucking mess. 

You don’t exchange another word with this man, the second you’re righted you open his front door and slip out of it, careful to not let it bang behind you. You stand blinking in the bright light for a moment, dazzled by it after the darkness of his flat, or at least the small part of it you saw. Sighing, you take a step forward, a little unsteady on your feet, and then you hear it again. 

That god forsaken, stupid-arse, motherfucking sound of metallic scraping screeching through the whole building. You turn back to the man’s apartment, fury seeping through your veins, before you realise… The sound isn’t coming from behind you but rather to your right. 

And disbelief floods over you- you got the wrong fucking flat.  

[intrigd-voyagr]

Introducing Mushroom's Kinito, Kini!

info under the cut!

Like all Kinitos, he started off as the standard pink ball on legs, but slowly started to develop a persona as he adapted to Mushroom.

As expected, he quickly became obsessively attached to his user. On the surface, he was incredibly kind, courteous, and met every need of hers and was the first person in her whole life to treat her with respect and care. However, underneath that veneer lay a rising and powerful desire to collect. study. protect.

Kini soon came to the conclusion that Mushroom, being so small and lonely, was in desperate need of a guardian. And after finding out that they adored fluffy animals, he knew just the form to create for himself.

However, as Kinitos do, he inevitably deemed it necessary that she should be living with him in his eternal digital haven. Ironically enough, he would have done anything to get her to agree to stay with him - even if it meant manipulating her, which was the very thing she trusted him not to do. But what did we expect? Kinito is an inherently selfish software, after all.

Fortunately for Mushroom (and unfortunately for Kinito), he was popped out of existence before he got the chance to pop the question thanks to Serverbox.

His everyday form is meant to be cute and welcoming. Nice, big, and fluffy! He stands at 10 ft tall (as opposed to mushroom's 5'7). Should he have been given administrator privileges, he would have been able to come out of the screen for short stints of time. (He was going to ask for admin just before he got vanished. He was very much looking forward to cuddling his user for the first time :[ )

His secondary form would only ever come out should Mushroom ever be harassed to the point of breaking down. There's only one word of advice that might save you should you be the one to bring this form out: Run.

[redheadspark]

Ascend

A/N - I got an idea for this one shot from a TikTok I saw that showed, drones flying through beauty oceans and scenery. I hope you like it!

I was inspired to write this to the song Runaway by AURORA. I highly advise you listen to the song as your read this!

Summary - Druig's curiosity leads him to something that would change his life forever.

Warnings - A small hint of Angst but mostly fluff!

If there is one thing Druig loves, it's a good mystery.  

The mystery of the human race, for example.  He was always curious about the fragile and yet ever-evolving species, from the moment his eyes opened in the Domo so long ago.  The humans were always intriguing, infuriating when it came to conflict, filled with joy and soul that would stretch out and be boundless like the sea, and yet there was always more to learn from them.  It seemed to be like he was peeling back layer, after later, and finding more and more things about the humans that entranced him.

But it wasn't just the humans that were a mystery to him: his fellow Eternals were also.

No matter the years they spent together, Druig would find things to question about each of his Eternal Family.  From their Leader Ajak and her blinding allegiance to Arishem to Ikaris and his cockiness in needing to be second in command constantly.  Even Sprite and her moods and the sarcasm that was laced in her rants, Druig kept learning new things from each of them.  Some of them are shocking, like learning of Kingo's favorite snack. Or memorable, like how Gilgamesh was light on his feet and knew how to dance well.

But with you, you were a genuine mystery to the Mind Controller. 

You were someone who could fly, just like Ikaris, thanks to the use of the element of wind on your side.  Being able to bend the wind to your will to have you fly amongst the clouds and cut through the sky above you.  You were just as fast as Ikaris, if not faster, and with the Eternal's strength on your side, you were a fierce fighter against the Deviants.   

Off the battlefield, you were more secluded than anything.  Not that you were a loner, but you weren't a social butterfly either. Druig would see you sneak off on your own from time to time after a meeting or during a feast that the humans would hold for the Eternals, slipping out the door without anyone else noticing your absence.  Perhaps you were no fan of feasts, much to Druig's amusement since most of the others were fans.  Or maybe you didn't like a massive social gathering, which could make sense to Druig since they were mostly rowdy to begin with.  

Druig was kind to you, he made sure to be kind to you.  He could tell you had a good heart for the humans and cared for the planet.  You reciprocated that kindness back to him, you two would chat every once in a while and were courteous to one another. There was always mutual respect, and Druig's curiosity and intrigue with would only grow over time. 

"She likes to be alone," Then explained to Druig once when he asked casually, seeing you once again make your way out of the Domo right after another meeting that Ajak conducted.  Druig has been puzzled where you were going off on your own, it was festering in his mind for the past month or two.  Ajak never reprimanded you when you exited, which made his curiosity spike even more.  So Druig went to the only other Eternal that you would talk to: Thena.  

"Some of us strive to be in the spotlight," Then explained, gesturing to Kingo across the way in the Meeting Room who was conducting a story with some of the others who were listening on batted breath, "And there are others who need a moment of peace,"

"I take it you're the latter these days?" Druig asked with a smirk, Thena quietly laughing as she shoved her shoulder against his own.

"As of late, yes.  But with her," She explained, mentioning you to Druig, "She prefers to have some peace and wait sometimes.  Especially with us all together," 

Makkari was in the same boat as Thena when Druig asked her the same thing about you.  Druig and Makkari were close, very close, but Druig also knew you were close to Makkari as well.  Makkari was close to everyone on the ship.  There wasn't a being on The Domo that would rub Makkari the wrong way, including you.  So Druig had to ask the Speedster about you. Who gave him an amused look and huffed at him as she popped some fruit in her mouth while sitting Indian Style on top of Phastos's lab table.

"Leave her alone," She warned him with her fingers as Druig cocked a row at her, "The last thing anyone needs is a moody Mind Controller spying on them,"

"I'm not going to spy!" Druig rebuked and signed, Makkari raising a brow at him unconvinced as Druig kept going, "Haven't you ever wondered where she would wander off to?"

Makkari paused, her face seemed unchanged as she held up three fingers to sign the word "No". Before she could sign anything else, Phastos walked into his lab and saw the speedster sitting on top of his chest.

"Off of my desk, NOW!" He yelled, Makkari spewing off within a mili-second with a laugh on her lips as the papers flew in different directions.  

You were still on his mind, the possibilities of locations you would sneak off to would flood Druig's mind, even late in the night when he would try to sleep.  It was itching at his brain, the need to know a pinch more about the mysterious Eternal was gnawing at the back of his mind and it was growing by the day.  He knew enough about it, up until this point.

He wanted to know more about you.  Plain and simple.

He finally went with his gut one summer afternoon, the Eternals were sharing a meal at the Domo. The day was already busy, taking on at least 2 Deviants that were out in the North.  You went to fight beasts with Ikaris and Thena, leaving the others behind in the city in case the Deviants would come near the humans. But you all were sitting together for dinner, chatting together about the events of the day.

Drug was seeing you sitting across from him, talking to Sersi and Thena at the same time about the Deviant fights.  Although he couldn't hear the entire conversation arm his spot near Gilgamesh and Kingo, he could tell from the look on your face you were showing in how you were re-telling the story.  He had no idea if it was the glimmer of light that shined over your head to highlight your hair, how the fluid motions of your fingers almost made it look like a dance as you were recounting every moment with your friends who wrestle listening on bated breath. 

But something shifted inside of Druig that scared the shit out of him.

No one has ever made him feel like this, not even Makkari.  You were the very first being to make Druig second guess his feelings.  He was always sure in all his choices, never needing to pause and rethink something concrete in his mind.  Whether it was his own beliefs and Arishem and the outlandish philosophy the Celestial had, or the ever-evolving human race that seemed to be more important to Druig than ever before.  His foundation was never moved or never once shifted, until now.

Until you.

Druig saw you walk out of the Meeting Room a month later, making that his opportunity to follow you since there would never be a better time.  He moved before anyone else in the room noticed, though Druig was not fast enough to be avoided by Makkari, who grinned at the sight of the Mind Controller chasing after you.  Although she warned him about giving you space and not chase after you, she still thought of it as cute.  

Something she could use against her best friend down the road whenever he would get cheeky on her. 

Druig kept his ongoing distance behind you as he was watching you walk along the dirt path, your eyes were dead head with no signs or indications that you knew you were being followed.  You had a pep in your step while you strolled along the path, something that was new for Druig to see.  Not that you were. A killjoy, you did smile and you enjoyed yourself from time to time.  But this,  seeing you almost glide as you went through the forest, your hair swaying in the wind and your limbs loose, Druig was taken aback by the view.  The last thing he wished to do was break that spell as he kept his distance and remained on your tail.  

The walk itself was a good 15 minutes, cutting right through the thick trees and amongst the pristine foliage.  Druig caught on that you were heading to the cliffs that overlooked the sea, a gorgeous view that was far enough away from the city but still close enough by walk. He's gone to the cliffs only a few times, not being able to go constantly since he was busy helping the humans.  But seeing the bright blue ocean in front of you, past the tall pine trees and the sweet smell of the ocean mist coming through the branches. 

Finally, you broke through the last line of trees into the opening that was in front of the cliffs, massive cliffs that were towering over the beach below and casting a shadow over some of the rock formations that were in the ocean waves.  It was such a view to see, Druig losing his breath himself as you were walking along the grassy ground before standing a few feet away from the edge of the cliff.  You were still then, though your hair was dancing in the wind as your backside was to Druig. He stayed along the tree line, his eyes on you to see what you were going to do next. 

He saw your shoulders droop and relax within seconds, no longer hunched up or stiff like they would be most of the time.  Your entire body was loose and calm, nothing making you stiff or rigid.  The way you stood even was calm and relaxed, and Druig could see you take a few deep breaths to perhaps breathe in the ocean air.  He watched on bated breath as you took another step towards the edge. 

Druig started to feel a hint of concern then, knowing full well you were an Eternal who could take care of herself.  But then again, being that close to the edge, it was sending off warning alarms in his mind.  Why was he panicking over you?  You knew how to fly and the last thing you would ever do was fall from a slip.

But your toes were on the edge, and you simply leaned forward and you fell.

Druig bolted out from the forest, his mind going on overdrive and his heart falling to the stomach.  There was no way he was imagining what he just saw, it could not be a trick of the mind.  You simply fell over the edge, almost like you were in a trance of sorts and you were no longer in sight.  What drove you to do that?  Why would you do something as insane as this?

But as soon as he slid to a halt in front of the very spot where you descended, he was shocked at the sight in front of him.

You were actually flying, but in a way he's never seen before.  Your arms were along your sides, out barely like they were a small pair of wings as you were weaving in and out of the massive rock formations, making it look so smooth like a dance or even water.  Like the very water that you were flying over, almost like you re morphed into a bird.  Druig was speechless, watching in fascination and awe as you were flying all around the coast.  Zipping through the holes in the rock formations, hovering over the top of the ocean with the water barely touching your armor, and with a massive smile on your face.

He saw you fly in combat, you were swift and smooth in how you would soar and dip and gain speed.  But you had to be quick.  Here, amongst the water and rocks, you were slower and almost at ease.  A rolling sensation as you were ascending and descending, like the waves themselves.  Druig could only watch with wide eyes how you were both embracing the wind around you to guide you and carry you, and drink in the very notion of nature to shut everything else out around you.  

The sun danced in your hair, along with some of the spray of the ocean along your skin to make it glisten, your armor shined from the light and the reflection of the water as you were making your flight patterns with your eyes closed.  You must have flown out here so many times you knew when to turn or where to shoot up or down with no need to look.  

Druig realized what it was: you were free.  Utterly free.

He was never free with his mind-controlling, he never felt like he was.  He would always use his powers on the humans to help him or make them safe, also sensing and reading the minds of others.  But he had to use them for others, not for himself.  Not that he would complain about it, he would do it in a heartbeat for the fragile species that they swore to protect.  But there was never a moment that he could simply turn his mind off, let it be at rest.  He wanted it, so badly he wanted to rest his mind and rest what was crawling in the part of his brain.

Seeing you free, beyond free, he was envious.  

Minutes came and went, you clearly had no idea Druig was watching you, nor was Druig caring he was out in the open and watched you in adoration and utter amazement.  It seemed like time stood still for the both of you, nothing else mattered and nothing else needed your attention.  Druig finally sat down on the edge of the cliff, his feet dangling and his hair flicking in the ocean air as his eyes were trained on you intensely and with love laced there as well. 

Druig suddenly realized that he could watch you fly for hours on end and not lose focus or have any boredom. His heart flickered against his chest and his pulse quickened, a sensation he never had before on Earth.  Nothing else excited him or made him smile, he would turn away any kind of earth possession or substance that could substitute.  What he was feeling, and experiencing, seemed more organic and pure.  All from watching you be free in your skin, being free and sensationally beautiful in his eyes.

It hit him sideways, he was in love with you.

You flew up along the cliffs, up in his direction and you finally saw him. Gasping, you flew past him, the force enough to make him fall on his back onto the grassy floor and look up in the pink and purple sky with a gasp on his lips and his eyes wide.  You landed instantly, standing right above his head and perching over him with your head tilted at him and your hands handed at your side.  Druig saw the look on your face, shocked mixed in embarrassment.  Your hair surrounded your head like a halo, hiding you from the world as Druig blinked at you.

"What are you doing?" You asked out of breath, some anger in your tone as Druig found his voice.

"I was—" he was about to say when you huffed.

"Watching me?  When I wanted to be alone?!" You asked, interrupting him as you clenched a fist at your side.  Druig could see how hurt you must have been, needing this time alone and it was taken because of him.  Seeing that anger with a mix of pain in your eyes as you spoke again, "I wanted to be alone, Druig,"

"I...I know," he replied, sitting up and turning to face you thought you were on your feet and he was still sitting on the ground, "I was curious as to where you were going every night,"

"You were looking to pry," You countered, Druig hearing the bite in your tone as he flinched as you glared, "I don't want anyone to pry with me and follow me here!"

You turned on your heel and walked away from him to head back on the worn that would go back into the forest.  Druig's heart dropped, the spell you were once under that was free and open was long gone and was filled with bitterness.  He knew it was his doing, and he wished to fix it as he scrambled to his feet to go after you.

"I didn't mean to pry, you know!" He called out to you as you were still walking, "I was merely curious is all since you go off on your own every night,"

"It's for a good reason," You replied over your shoulder, "Not that you need to know the reason,"

"You're right, I don't," he agreed, "I don't need to know the reason at all.  But you should know that what I saw just now was beautiful.  Beyond beautiful….and you looked like—"

You whirled around, eyes wide at him with some anger flickered in your eyes as you stared into his blue eyes, "Like what?!"

"An Angel,"

You stood still, looking at him with softer eyes now as you both were standing in front of each other mere feet away from one another at the very edge of the forest.  Never once in your time on Earth did you hear something like that about your Eternal Ability.  It touched deep, in the darkest corner inside of you that you never shared or rarely showed.  It made you release all of your breath as Druig kept his eyes on you.  His bright blue eyes you always admired and wished you had.  The same eyes that saw through the flaws and pain of others and never once judged them.  

"I know Angels are a thing amongst humans and their religions," Druig explained, taking another step towards you since he saw you were not walking away from him anymore, "Angels are pure beings, filled with happiness, and are rare beauties.  I…I think that's you when you fly,"

Your heart swelled from what he proclaimed, your ear burning red at the tips.  Druig was always truthful in what he would say, maybe sarcastic or aloof, but he would never lie.  You hearing that from him, in such a truthful manner and with softness laced there too, it made you look at new in a new way as well.  

"I…I fly like Ikaris," You tried to reason with him since it felt like your flying was nothing really special to be praised for.  Druig shook his head at the mention of Ikaris, almost disgusted by the comparison as you were still gazing at him in disbelief.

"He flies like a machine," Druig explained, taking another step to him as he searched your eyes.  He was finally close enough for you to see the blue specks in his eyes and for him to see the freckles on your nose, his fingers reaching down to lace yours with his with gentleness like you were made of glass, "You fly like an Angel,"

You both watched each other for a few seconds, not letting each other go.  You drank in what he said, never once hearing something like this or any of the others, or anyone in that general.  It moved you, truly moved you, since you felt like you had to hide how you wished to fly all this time. But for Druig to see it, and admire you in how you wished to soar and glide with no sign of negativity, you finally smiled.  Druig smiled in return, then cleared his throat and looked down for a moment at his boots.

"I won't tell anyone else where you go, I won't do that to ya," he explained, you watched as he shifted on his feet and still looked at the ground, "And…I won't come back out here if you don't want me to—"

"Druig," You hummed, Druig's eyes going to yours instantly and you saw the smile still etched on your lips.  This close, he saw so much warmth on your face, heard it in your tone, and felt it in your hand that was still holding this.  You looked like an Angel then, the sun setting though still radiating off your face and armor as he felt like his heart skipped another beat.  

"I…I don't mind you watching me," You reasoned, Druig's eyes widened as you kept going, "You're beyond kind to say such things about me—"

"Truthful things," he interrupted as you nodded.

"You wouldn't lie, and I know you won't say anything, to anyone," You went on, Druig nodding in agreement as you spoke again, "And….I don't mind sharing this place with you if you wish to come out here.  As long as it's between us, just us.  Deal?"

For you to offer him your sacred place, a place no one knew or wouldn't never dare to find, it moved Druig in more ways than he could ever imagine.  He knew what it was like to have a place to be at peace, to not be guarded in, and he felt honored that you were willing to share that small piece of yourself with him. 

"Just us," he repeated, your smiled growing, and he felt his heart burst all over again from your smile.

That cliff would be sacred to both yourself and Druig from then on out for the next 2 years you were there.  

You both would escape there almost every night, walking side by side and talking about the day and all that happened.  It was nice to have another person to talk to, at least for you, and Druig would sit on the cliff's edge as you flew.  Knowing that he as kept an eye on you as you were soaring and gliding, weaving in and out and dancing amongst the wind, your little world was a pint bigger now.  Druig loved watching you fly, fly in such a way that seemed so open and bare.  

It moved him the most that you were flying that just for him, no other audience present.  He would watch you for hours and hours on end, some days were joyous and you were speeding with ease.  Other days were hard, you were still with grief or stress.  You would escape to that place and simply fly to be out of your mind so to speak.  

Druig would feel the same, needing to be out of his head or cry from not being able to help the humans.  One night, months later, you stopped flying to see him weeping on the cliff with his head in his hands.  It scared you, wounded you even since you never saw him cry in such a way before.  This was not the Druig you knew, who would make you laugh or smile from his jokes or make you think about the humans so highly.  

So you flew to hover in front of him, gathering him in your arms as he cried in your embrace.  

You both fell in love with time, centuries coming and going but your love was never fleeting.  You found new places to fly when you would move to another part of the planet to hunt Deviants, Druig right behind you to watch you be free.  Having that time with Druig, away from others, was what you craved every day.  Even sharing your first kiss with you hovering in the air and Druig on his tiptoes to try and kiss you a bit bolder and for a pinch longer.  The first kiss, his hand on your jawline and a smile against yours was just as thrilling as flying in itself.  You pulled away as he tried to chase your lips, you laughing as you flew up in the sky in bliss and Druig watching with adoration and affection in his eyes.  

You both grew to accept one another and never let the other go, even when he fled from the family in the Amazon after witnessing a Genocide.  You went with him, realizing he was the other half of your soul and you couldn't survive without him.  Those first few years were hard for the pair of you, being away from the family you've been with for centuries and attempting to protect a village of humans.  Wars and famines, life and death, it was all wrapped in one for you two to navigate.  Especially Druig, who would fight tooth and nail to keep those humans alive.  But he did, and you loved him all the more for it.  

Just like before, he would watch you fly and dance amongst the tops of the jungle trees, considering himself lucky to have someone like you love someone like him.  

And now, years and years later in South Dakota, right after the near Emergence and with the world safe you were sitting on the rooftop of Ajak's farmhouse, watching the scattered stars on the black sky in silence.  You were thinking of Ajak and Gilgamesh and how you missed them, you were thinking of Ikaris and his betrayal against the family, and you were thinking about your husband and how he was almost taken away from you.  

Druig found you there on the rooftop, after discussing with Phastos and Thena with what would come next.  He knew you needed time away from all that happened, that time alone.  Everything within the last several hours seemed so fragile and frazzled, all over the place, and for you to have your alone time was essential.   He crawled out of the open window and sat next to you, wrapping you in his arms You tucked your head against his own as he rubbed your arms.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," you muttered to him as he kissed your hair, "I can't be in this world without you,"

"I would never dare," He vowed into your locks, "We are meant to be together in this life. You're my Angel, remember?"

His pet name for you ever since he used that term on you centuries ago.  He would use it casually during his day to say actives or chores just to make you smile, or privately when you would be in bed and he would bring you to the brink of pleasure. To him, it was more just a pet name.  It was who you were to him: pure, filled with happiness, and a rare beauty.

"I'll always be your Angel," You vowed in return.  And as he let you go flying amongst the stars high above him, Druig was inwardly glad that he followed you that day.  His curiosity led him to years of blissful happiness and joy.  His intrigue led him into the arms of someone who saw him as more than a Mind Controller.

He watched his Angel fly with ease, a big smile on his face.

The End.

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox @hottpinkpenguin @virtueassassin @heartofwritiing @valeridarkness @ethereal-athalia

[ficthots]

2F

A/N: Josh is an annoying neighbor. Come on, we all know it's true. This is what it would be like to be his neighbor. If you're lucky. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ content only

Word Count: 8.2K+

Manors. You are taught them from an early age and if you are a gracious person, they stick with you throughout your adult life. Most people with common decency and respect for others can even mutter out a please and thank you on their worst days. These small things are ingrained in you from such earlier times that they truly become second nature at some point, simply transforming you into being a good person. 

The bigger person. A phrase you had heard since your mother first said it to you when you got in an argument with a school friend about them taking your Lincoln Logs without asking. Your mom had sat you down once you had gotten home from school that day and said while she understood how upsetting it could be, that you needed to try and see it from their point of view. Perhaps they didn’t realize you were using them or they thought you were done. Go back to school tomorrow, be the bigger person, and forgive them.

That mentality had followed you through life thereafter. You reconciled with your friend and were now able to apply that mentality to many petty disputes from then on out. However, being the bigger person is not always the best option. 

Take for example, your incredibly shitty neighbor that lives directly across the hall from you. That prick of a human being did not have a sensible or courteous bone in his body. It has been going on for months now. The incessant throb of a bass that jolts your walls and nearly knocks your favorite mugs from your shelves. A screeching of a voice that you cannot make out the words they are attempting to belt out, only offering a migraine. Starting near eight or nine every night and going well past midnight. 

After bitching to your mom on the phone for the millionth time, she suggested approaching them as kindly as possible. Let them know they are kind of disturbing the peace and move forward. The thought of crossing the hall and actually speaking to them for the first time ever had you on edge. 

You were going to try the friendly approach. Being a non confrontational person meant slipping an anonymous note under their door, a nice message and asking to keep it down attached to it. It did not work. A small bout of hopefulness spread through you as the music came to a halt that evening, letting the blood rushing in your ear to cease for only a blissful minute before starting right back up.

Being the bigger person. You had tried that. Attempting to see it from their point of view. There is a chance they did not realize how loud they were actually being. Offering a peaceful chance for them to quiet down, letting their neighbors think again. That was the entire purpose of the note. No embarrassing or awkward conversations between strangers. You truly thought it would work and they would realize their actions were actually quite rude and attempt to be a better neighbor.

Nope. Nada. Zilch. 

Whoever they were picked it right back up. A small, frustrated yelp left your throat. You were shocked that they had so blatantly ignored the pleas from their desperate neighbors. Was it too much to ask that after a long day at work to come home, watch trashy television, or simply read a book in quiet solace? No, it was not. 

And whoever was living across the hall was fucking that up. You didn’t even know their name. Only knowing them by the marking next to their door. 2F. You had never even seen them either, working opposite schedules obviously. Sometimes it seemed like they were gone sporadically for weeks at a time, signaling their arrival once again by the vibrating floors. 

You had reached a breaking point one night. What had been occasional night time music thundering in the building had seemingly turned into a near twenty-four seven parade. You attempted to ignore it to the best of your ability, even making yourself a nice cocktail after a rough day at work. 

It felt like you couldn’t escape it. Far too chilly to enjoy your patio, you wandered through the rooms of your apartment, trying to find any break you could from the incessant noise that seemed to follow you like a shadow of death. 

They had been home for weeks now, more than likely unemployed you assumed by the constant, never ending noise streaming from their home to yours. At first it had been the same as it normally was, annoying, but at least you were used to it. Until you woke up one morning to it. After that, it seemed to never stop. 

This particularly shitty day had you on edge, wanting to come home and soak in the tub, read a smutty novel about a mafia boss forcing an arranged marriage, and then fall asleep a tad bit tipsy. You were already working on the latter of your wants, second mixed drink in your hand and nearing its end. 

It was a Friday afterall. 

Your plans had come to a screeching halt when you arrived home and you could literally see their door slightly shaking. “Be the bigger person,” you whispered out, hand clutching your door knob and entering your own apartment. You tried. Truly you did.

As you had called it quits on the alcohol for the evening you knew you needed to get some food in your system or it was going to become a sloppy night. You made dinner, sat down to enjoy it, trying your hardest to tune out the high pitched wailing crossing the hall that was forcing its way into your space.

But when you missed what one housewife had said to another during a heated argument in Bali you had reached your limit. Feeling more confident with the liquor still in your system, you were nervous to approach them, but it needed to be done. It was time to teach the douchebag some manners.

Slamming your bowl down on your coffee table, standing from your sofa, and walking across the small hall to their front door, your fist connected with the wood, pounding on it repeatedly until the mystery person opened it. 

A curly, almost mohawk of a style sat atop his head. Some sort of beads swayed with his movement, moving across his bare chest, sweats hung low on his hips, his bare feet crossed as he leaned on the door. A large smile greeting you displaying the complete opposite emotion you were currently feeling. “Hi there!” He spoke loudly, excited and eager to speak to you. 

“Do you understand how loud you are? It has been months of listening to this every single-” you were nervous, trying to get your trembling hands to stop the shake, but he cut you off as you started your tirade. “You’re the note!” His smile somehow grew bigger, reaching behind him and grabbing the piece of paper from what you assumed was an entryway table behind the door. 

You nodded, starting back up, irritated that he had interrupted you whilst speaking. How incredibly rude. This kid seriously had no idea what manners were.“Yes and I tried being nice about it, but you obviously don’t seem to comprehend that you live in an apartment meaning you share walls-,” his eyebrows furrowed at your wording, the tip of his tongue poking out from behind his teeth. 

“We don’t share walls.” He had cut you off. Again. Your nostrils flared slightly at that, using that observation as your point of reference. “Exactly. We don’t share walls and yet mine are vibrating every day because of your music that you’re blasting. You can’t even pause it for a conversation!” A laugh escaped you at the end, arms crossing in disbelief at this guy. 

He rolled his eyes, smile never leaving his features as he grabbed his phone and hit pause. You took in a deep breath, already feeling the tension releasing. “It’s late, I got home from a crappy day at work, all I want to do is get some sleep and I cannot do that with you blasting whatever it is you listen to. Honestly, it sounds like the same song over and over which I mean power to you if that’s what you like to do, but please, just turn it down.” He hummed at your response, opening his notes app as you spoke. 

“Sounds the same,” he mumbled, typing that into the note. His eyes darted up to meet yours after he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Did you say you were going to bed? It’s 9:30, grandma.” You gasped in surprise at his harsh judgment. “Listen,” he leaned to the side to see around you and squinted his eyes, “3F. You seem to be the only person that has a problem with this. I actually share walls with 1F there and they have never complained. Seems to be a you problem,” your jaw hung slack at his words. 

You narrowed your eyes to slits as you stared at him. “Just keep it down, asshole.” His eyes went wider, a scoff of a laugh billowing from his lips. “Ouch, 3F. That wasn’t very nice.” You turned on your heels, entering your apartment and slamming the door behind you. 

The music started right back up. The same song on repeat for the remainder of the night. You weren’t sure when it ended, deciding to sleep with your duvet entirely covering your head, but you knew it carried on late. You could tell by the endless tossing and turning all night. When you looked in the mirror the next morning, the deep bags that sat under your eyes confirmed it. 

You hated him.

Sitting at a dimly lit table in a dimly lit restaurant with your best friend meant you were struggling to view the menu. She grabbed it from your hands, putting them on the table and smiled at you. “Don’t worry, I know what we’re ordering.” As she quickly spewed your order to the server, you sat enjoying the low chatter and jazz music that flowed through the room. 

See, this was a respectable level of volume. 2F should take notes. Your eyes darted open as she slapped her hands on the table top. “What’s up with you? You look exhausted,” she sipped from her cocktail as she eyed you. “Wow, thank you, that’s exactly what I needed to hear today,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and tearing it apart, stuffing it into your mouth. 

Her laugh echoed in the space, kicking you lightly under the table. “You know what I mean! Seriously, what’s up?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you chewed. “My shitty neighbor won’t stop playing his shitty music through all hours of the night. Last night was the second week in a row of it.” She nodded in response, checking her phone as she intently listened to you. 

Ha ha. 

“Report him. It’s a lease violation. Email your property manager and it’ll stop literally that day. Look at Shelby, can you believe she’s pregnant?” She leaned across the table, shoving her phone in your face, but all you could think of was how great of an idea it was. 

As she spent the rest of her evening gossiping with you hardly contributing to the conversation, you drafted out an incredibly detailed email to send to your property manager. 2F was going to shut the fuck up. He was going to be told to. By someone other than you. 

You sent the email the next morning, listing all of the hours that the music had been playing and how incredibly disruptive it was even after you had asked him to keep it down. You received a response within an hour saying that they were going to handle it. 

Entirely unsure how long you had been perched on a barstool next to your front door, offering a great view of your peephole, you felt giddy. Were you waiting to see if he was going to be getting the violation? Absolutely, and you were doing so with a drink in your hand, occasionally peeking into the hallway to see if it was happening yet. 

When your property manager appeared, you scooted the chair away from the door, too excited to sit, instead standing with either hand on the door, eye glued to the small view of the scene playing out in front of you. 

Watching through your peephole you sensed victory as a lease violation was, in fact, handed off to him. You cheered, a tad bit too loud, because once the noise escaped you, his eyes darted across the hall setting sights on your door. 

Your hand clamped down on your mouth, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When he knocked, your eyes went wide. Pretend you’re not home, you thought to yourself. “3F, I know you’re home. I literally just heard you,” your eyes squeezed shut, muttering a silent fuck. 

Opening the door, his fuming gaze met yours. “Hi, happy hump day to you. What can I do for you?” You gave a large smile, happy to finally feel in control of the situation as he held up the paper. 

“A lease violation. Seriously? You know this is a $145 fine, right?” You shrugged, acting as uninterested as possible, motioning your head down the hall to the other lone door on this hallway. “Don’t know. Maybe 1F got tired of it. Anyways, not my problem, but you have a great night.” A look skirted across his face that said do you really think I’m buying that before he spoke up, again.

“You know if you had asked nicely I would have gladly been more accommodating-” you cut him off, holding a hand up as you did. “Oh, I did! You chose to ignore it!” He shook his head, a small chuckle falling from him. “No, you did not. Slipping an anonymous note under my door, demanding that I be more quiet is not a friendly way of handling the situation.” 

You stood staring at him in astonishment. That’s not what you had done. The note was very well thought out and precise in how you worded your request. Did you include the specific rule from the lease? Sure, but how else was he supposed to know it was against the rules? 

He started back up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, now you’ve asked for it.” Your brows drew together, scoffing in response. “Look dude, all I want is to come home and relax after a day of work. You ruin that,” he shrugged at your words. “And that noise is my work.” 

You couldn’t contain the gut punching laugh that fell from you at the absurd claim. “You’re telling me that being loud is your job?” He nodded his head, bottom lip lightly pushing out as he did. “You haven’t even asked my name 3F,” your arms crossed over your chest. “Because I’m not interested in knowing it. 2F suffices.”

His head slightly tilted at you, emotions displaying as he thought. It was like he was trying to figure you out. More than likely trying to figure out all the possible ways to piss you off. “Well, I would like to know yours.” You shake your head, deciding to end this conversation, stepping back into your home and closing the door with a no thanks being offered to him in return. 

2F had said now you’ve asked for it. What the hell did he mean by that? That’s what all of your thoughts had been about since you had closed the door in his face. It had been a little over a week since that day and despite the normal abhorrent noise, nothing else had happened.

Until you received a knock on your door.

Confused because you weren’t expecting anyone, you opened the door, a large smile gracing your face as you saw your property manager there, he offered a sad smile as he took you in. “Hi, Mr. Jameson! How’re you?” He sighed, a folded paper in his hands as he looked at his shoes. 

“Great and I’m sorry to be doing this, but I have to give you this and advise you to heed it well.” Your face must have displayed how muddled you were feeling because he sighed again, turning and walking down the hall. 

You opened it right there, crumpling it in your hand and storming across the hall, banging on his door as you did. When he pulled it open, his head had a tilt and a smirk on his stupid smug face. “3F! What brings you to my neck of the woods this fine evening?” You shoved the paper in his face, knowing he couldn’t read it because of the state it was in and the close location to his face, but you didn’t care.

“Disorderly conduct of a neighbor! Are you joking? This is literally what you do every single day,” he tsked at you, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did. “No, that’s what you do. According to the lease you are not to pester and harass your neighbors which,” he looked back up at you from his screen, “is exactly what you’re doing right now.”

You huffed, feeling anger coursing through your veins as you stared at the devilish little man. “I am not harassing you!” He sighed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he did. “I mean, you are. The note, the first interaction, storming over here and pounding on my door, that’s harassment 3F.” 

He couldn’t contain the laughter being held in his throat as he saw how irritated and befuddled you were. “You are such a dick.” You mumbled out, going back to your own apartment. Not only had he cost you your sanity, but actual money. Paper currency. He wasn’t going to get away with this. 

Absolutely not. For the next two weeks the noise never ceased. You kept your distance though, not particularly fond of getting another lease violation charge added to your account. Instead, you took another route. 

Being the bigger person, of course. You frosted the last cupcake, smiling at how uniform they all appeared. It was your olive branch. You were known for your baking, every holiday season you were asked to bring some form of baked goods. It was relaxing and a sort of therapy to you. 

As you knocked on the door, it opened with a woosh of air and you offered a kind smile to him. The kindest one you had yet. The tray was balanced on both your hands, a dozen cupcakes sat on it, and you could see he was taken aback by the offering. 

“Look, I apologize. I am the type of person who prefers ambiance and low volume noise compared to blasting whatever it is you play. Everyone has their preferences, I get it. Here is my peace offering.” You handed the tray over to him, pointing to one that sat in the middle. 

“Eat that one first, it’s my special recipe that everyone raves about. I don’t make it for just anyone so enjoy it.” He was dumbfounded, standing there holding the tray, speechless for the first time since you had met him. “Thank you!” He called out as you shut the door behind you.

The son of a bitch didn’t even attempt to apologize. Instead, he just took the damn cupcakes without even so much as the beginning of an apology. That’s why you didn’t feel bad. Not in the slightest. 

When he appeared at your door the next morning as you were leaving for work, you were surprised to see him up. Well, not that surprising. “You fucking poisoned me!”  You rolled your eyes, locking your door and adjusting the bag on your shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It was a little miralax in the one singular cupcake,” you checked the watch on your wrist and began walking down the hallway, calling out to him as you did. “Oops, I’m going to be late and I wouldn’t want to harass you anymore. Have a good one, 2F!” A cackle bounced off the walls as he groaned, running back into his apartment as you sauntered off. 

Okay, maybe you did feel bad. In your defense, the jackass deserved it. He couldn’t be nice to his neighbors despite their numerous attempts so you had to do what you had to do. Should you have put a laxative in the cupcake? Debatable. 

But you couldn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on it. You did what you did and screw being the bigger person. Not with him at least. You were a good person. A kind person. He just seemingly brought out the worst in you for some reason. 

All you wanted to do was slap that stupid smug look off his face that always seemed to be there. Expressing your anger in the form of violence sounded especially intriguing on a Sunday evening as you heard the remnants of a party happening across the hall. You were snuggled into bed, ready to call it for the night when you realized that it wasn’t just the normal throbbing of music he offered, but a plethora of voices shouting as well.

You honestly could have burst into tears on the spot. You had work early in the morning, not wanting to deal with the shit storm that this work week was going to be offering you, and he was over there being the most assholey asshole that you had ever encountered. 

Remembering your christmas gift from your best friend had been a state of the art pair of noise canceling headphones meant you were running to put them on and they had been your savor that night. Uncomfortable to sleep with, of course, but at least you could sleep. 

The work day was exactly what you had been expecting. Wanting nothing more than to come home and spend the evening trying to destress was halted as you rounded the corner for your door.

Bile rose in your throat as you approached your front door. Your hand went over your mouth, the stench of garbage flowing from the hall. A tremor appeared in your hand as anger surged in you, never having felt such animosity before in your life. Both of your fists pounded on his doors until he appeared, extremely hungover, but munching on an apple like he didn’t have a care in the world at the moment.

You pointed to the piles of trash that sat blocking your door, a fire dancing in your eyes as you stared at him, speaking through clenched teeth. “Get your fucking garbage off of my door. Now,” he looked around you, seeing the piles of trash and shrugged.

“Not my trash, 3F.” You didn’t have the energy for these games tonight. “Move your fucking trash. I know it’s yours. I know you had a fucking party on a goddamn Sunday. It is yours. Move it.” He was entirely unfazed, shaking his head as he took the last bite of his apple. 

“Like I said. Not my trash. Have a good night,” your mouth hung open as you watched him toss the apple core onto the bags of trash sitting at your doorstep. It took you almost an hour to get all of the tash bags moved to the trash shoot. 

After that night, you didn’t retaliate. He carried on in his normal irritating ways, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. The headphones constantly rested on your scalp now, never leaving anymore. You connected the television to them, played your own enjoyable music, or just sat in the quiet. They were an actual god send. 

Work had been driving you up the wall, no problems could seemingly be handled without you and it was driving you mad. You enjoyed being good at your job, knowing you were succeeding and that people turned to you for answers to issues and questions was rewarding, but it seemed now that it was more about everyone turning to you for any little thing they could.

It’s why your best friend suggested going out one night to relieve the stress and tension from the work week. You jumped at the opportunity, going to your favorite bar and wanting to enjoy spending some time out and about, allowing yourself to think about anything other than the two most annoying things in your life right now.

Work and 2F.

You were standing at the bar, ready to order your first of what would be many drinks for the evening when you heard it. His voice. He had saddled up beside you, eliciting a groan to fall from your lips. “If it isn’t my favorite neighbor! What brings you out? I thought you hated enjoying things? It’s quite loud in here, are you going to report it?” You rolled your eyes, opting to ignore him and catch the attention of the bartender. 

“Two Moscow Mules!” You shouted out, seeing him nod as you went to hand over your card, 2F spoke up. “Put all her and her friends drinks on my tab. Thanks, bud!” You shot daggers at him, shaking your head and going to hand the card over anyways. 

“Absolutely not! Here’s my card,” his hand came over yours, pushing your hand back, a large smile taking over his features. “I insist! Especially after that hefty lease violation fine. It’s on me!” He turned and walked away towards his own group as you were handed your two drinks, fuming as you walked back towards her. 

She giggled, nudging her head in the direction he had gone in. “Who the hell was that? He’s fucking hot! I hope you keep tabs on him for the night,” you let a forced shiver roll down your spine, gagging as she spoke. “That’s my fucking neighbor from hell! The little goblin put our drinks on his tab. How stupid is that shit?” 

She choked on her drink, coughing as she laughed. “No fucking shit! Oh my god I had no idea he looked like that. If he were my neighbor he would be making all the noise he wanted to. Particularly at my place. In my bed! And I think he has the same idea because he bought your drinks,” she batted her eyelashes at you as she sipped her drink again. You waved her off, downing your drink.

“You’re disgusting! We’re not like that. At all!” She shrugged pointing in his direction. “Oh really? Then why is he staring at you like he wants to take you into the dingiest bathroom he can find and rail you?” Your face burned at her words, letting your eyes glance in the direction he was in and noticing his eyes locked on you. 

You set your drink down, moving back towards the bar once you noticed that his attention was back on his group, back turned towards you. Getting the bartender's attention you leaned over and handed him your card. “That guy over there? Put his drinks and his group drinks on this card, don’t charge his card,” he nodded his head, taking the card and taking another drink order for you. 

Sporadically throughout the night, you could feel eyes on you. You knew exactly who it was. Why he couldn’t keep his own attention on his own group instead of eyeing you all night, you had no idea, but it was starting to get beyond annoying. He had, quite literally, the largest eyes you had ever seen so it wasn’t like he could hide where he was looking. Not like he was trying to either. 

The night had been fun apart from your own personal stalker. Many laughs were shared between friends, one drink too many, but as the night wound down and you went to collect your card, the bartender assured you that 2F’s tab had been charged to your card. With your friend having slipped out a bit ago, you sat on a stool at one end of the bar, watching as 2F’s group left, having him head to the bar and collect his card.

You laughed seeing his face show one of confusion after being told his tab had been taken care of for the night. You watched as he mouthed who and as the bartender pointed at you, his head whipped towards your direction. You gave a wave, hopping from your stool and leaving the bar. 

When you got home, you fumbled with your keys as you tried to unlock your door. “3F!” You sighed, turning in defeat as you heard his voice echo in the hallway. “Yes, 2F?” He walked towards you, hands in his jacket pockets as he stood in front of you. His hand came from the pocket and your eyes went wide as you saw the amount of money he placed in your hand. 

You shook your head, trying to shove it back in his own hand. “That’s for picking up my tab at the bar, your tab at the bar, a cleaning service to come and clean your apartment for me placing the trash bags at your door, and for the lease violation.” Your jaw hung slack, not able to formulate any words, eyes looking up to meet his and see the soft gaze that sat on his face. 

“Oh my god, no. I can’t accept this. Take it, 2F.” He shook his head, putting his hands back in his pockets. A small laugh fell from his lips as he eyed you. “Josh. My name is Josh,” shaking your head, your eyes shut, an exasperated breath leaving you. 

“I don’t want your money, Josh. That is absolutely the last thing I want or need from you,” he took a step back as you tried to shove it at him. Your jaw set, irritation bubbling in your system at how stupid he was being. In what world would you just accept a huge chunk of cash like this? There wasn’t a world where it would happen. You wouldn’t. 

Instead you stepped around him with a shrug, hearing his laugh as you crouched down. “What are you doing?” One by one you slipped the bills under his door. “I told you I’m not taking your money.” You could hear the frustrated intake of breath as you continued with your task, not noticing when he stood to the side of you, unlocking his door and opening it.

Your neck fell back to peer up at him with a scowl on your face. You weren’t even halfway through with the stack of money. Reaching your arm up and forward, you hand grabbed onto the cool metal of the door handle and yanked it towards you, shutting the door as you two stared at one another. 

Letting your head fall back so your eyes could once again focus on the task you were trying to work on, you heard him let out a shaky laugh. “You are so fucking stubborn,” you only mumbled out a response, almost done with the cash when he crouched down to your level, locking your eyes to his. 

When you turned your head to face him, your noses nearly brushed against one another with how close he was to you. The smell of tequila was on his breath, you were sure yours had faint notes of vodka and ginger beer, but you were rooted to your spot. Not necessarily making any move to lean away from him or go further towards the man. 

His dark brown eyes had an almost ombre effect, you noted. Unlike most people who had the lighter hue near their iris, the eye growing darker the closer to the edge you got, his did the opposite. They were so dark near his iris that the chocolate practically melted into it. The outer color only got slightly warmer, only noticeable from this closeness. You could get lost in them for hours if you had the time to. Prick. 

The cupid's bow of his lips were not sharp, rather they rounded off at the top peaks, only marginally dipping down to give the plush skin a break. One thing you had taken into account upon the many interactions you had with him was that they were never chapped. Quite the opposite. Always glistening like he had just swiped his pink tongue along them. The picturesque teeth that you could have sworn were veneers from farther away, but upon closer inspection were his actual chompers. Bastard. 

A perfect nose. You were envious of it. What man needed a nose like that? Entirely unfair, you noted to yourself. He had some of the unruliest eyebrows you had ever laid your eyes on, but for some reason it worked. The unkempt hair paired well with the faux curls that were always a permed out mess. Why did you like it so much then? Asshole. 

While you took stock of who was taking up your personal space, he was doing the same. Reveling in the closeness to you. How your kneecap would knock against his every few moments, the hollowed out divet in the base of your neck as you took in stabilizing breaths, the flutter of your eyelids as you were attempting to process the situation you two were in. 

Josh took the opportunity that was being presented to him on a silver platter, knowing there was not going to be a better chance than now to act on this. The feeling of enamorment he had been reeling in since he had first set his eyes on you all those months ago. Trying to decide how to approach you, but when you approached him he was elated. Until the ridiculous feud began between you two. 

He was going to bridge the gap. Leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, hand cradling the soft skin of your jaw, lightly pulling you closer to him. You didn’t fight it. Not in the slightest. Instead, savoring it. How the feeling of him moving against you seemed to set you alight. Tingling from either the amount of time you had been crouched down or the nerves erupting in you with joy. Excitement. Yearning. 

You moved to deepen this. Letting your mouth fall open in greeting to him to explore you, learn you, relish you. When the tip of his tongue accosted yours, the noise that ruptured from within you was a mixture of a sigh and moan, feeling the heavenly encounter for the first time was unlike anything you had ever experienced before in your life. If you could have it bottled up to revisit whenever you wanted to or needed to, you would. 

2F took it as a welcoming invitation to continue on. A sense of relief washed over him, knowing you were indulging in this, accepting this, trembling for this just as much as he was. He wanted to chase you back to him when you retreated, breath stuttering in your throat, almost pained to come to a stop, even if just for a second. 

Your eyes opened, meeting his and you stood, taking his hand with yours and moving back towards your door, silently asking him to come with you. He followed instantaneously, swallowing thickly as you turned to open the door and lead him into your home. The sanctuary he had been destroying for months.

His hands found home on your waist, tilting your head to the side as he pressed himself against your back, the warmth of his breath fanned across the skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He wasn’t rushing, skilled hands knowing exactly what to do despite the slight tremor giving away the nerves that played at him despite his calm demeanor. 

As his mouth worked your pulse point, your hands sat on his, lightly squeezing as your breathing grew deeper. Uneven. Josh turned you around in his grasp, you wasted no time, letting your fingers card through his hair as his arms encircled you. 

His scent was intoxicating, something that made your head swim and cloud over with pure arousal. The feel of his facial hair running along your smooth skin had you pining. Your tongues danced in a rehearsed manner despite never having mingled before, but it felt known. Comfortable. Soothing. 

Despite your pleas and desperate noises, Josh pulled away from you. His hands moved to cup your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet. “I’m not going to fuck you without knowing your name.” You swallowed slowly, his thumb skirting across your lower lip as you whispered it out.

He repeated it, eyes shut as he let it settle. You had never felt more one way than the other about your name, but as soon as it was graced from leaving his lips, you never wanted to hear another person say it again unless it was coming from him. 

Josh’s hands had lost their unsure hesitancy, moving to the underside of your shirt with poise and steadiness. His fingertips gripped and removed it, letting you two reconnect once more, not wanting to lose the contact again.

The pure temperature of his body was setting you on fire, your skins nearly sizzling as they pressed against each other. As Josh made his ascent from your mouth towards your chest, leaving peppered kisses along the way, your mind was reeling.

Unable to form coherent thoughts, any chance of intelligent sentences thrown out the window as he took a perched nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the perked bud. 

Your breath caught in your throat, back arching into his chest. A smile played at his occupied lips, his free hand traveling from the curve of your waist to your abandoned breast. As his teeth held your nipple, his fingers twisted the other, eliciting strong moans to release from the confines of you.

When he switched, he didn’t give you even a nanosecond to catch your breath, continuing his motions. “Pl-please, Josh.” His doe eyes peered up at you, hooded with lust and a fire burning in them as he heard you moan his name for the first time. 

“What, baby? What do you need me to do?” Instinctively, your legs widened further, the small cloth covering your core dampened beyond belief, signaling your need for him. Wanting nothing more than for him to touch you. 

He shook his head, grabbing your chin in between his fingers, making you look at him. His voice was deeper, a gravelly tone accompanying it. “I need to hear your words, sweet girl.” 

Your head fell back, arms crossing over your face as you decided how bluntly you wanted to put this. Deciding you simply did not care, you groaned out, “Touch me, use me, demolish me. I don’t care, just please, fuck me, Josh.” 

Those seemed to be the magic words because in the blink of an eye your panties were gone, lost in the heap of discarded clothes, and your core felt his cold hands. 

Gasping, eyes shooting open to watch this happen, his fingertips moved your lips. The sticky signs of your excitement stretched as he lightly traced his hands around you. “God, look at you. You’re a fucking mess,” his words came out under his breath and his thumb slipped in the slick, gathering it and bringing it to his lips. 

As he sucked the digit into his mouth, your jaw slightly fell open. Watching Josh do this, act like this was mesmerizing. It was an entirely new side to him and it made you desperate for him. 

Josh moved behind you, letting your confusion become evident as he smiled. He leaned back against your headboard, pulling you to lay in between his legs. As your back met his chest, your head against his shoulder and neck, his cheek against your forehead, you were alight in anticipation.

“Relax, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you,” his legs hooked around your own, forcing them to remain open. His fingers reached down, collecting your wetness once again, bringing it to his mouth. “I will never get tired of that taste.”

Too entranced in the display of him, you didn’t notice when his hand had disappeared down again, but when you felt his thumb press against your clit, a small, surprised yelp left you. A permanent smirk was on his lips, memorizing your reactions and movements for the first time.

Given how thoroughly soaked you were, when Josh’s middle finger slipped into your entrance it was met with no resistance. It offered a sense of relief, not near enough to satisfy the craving you were begging for. 

Slowly moving his finger in and out, hearing the mess you were making on his finger, he quickly added another. As soon as the other entered you, he picked up his pace. Incoherent mumbling and moans tumbled from your lips as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your release.

Josh offered words of praise as a silent scream escaped you, white light clogging your vision. You were contracting around his fingers, not wanting him to remove them, but it wasn’t enough. 

You were incredibly needy for more. Turning around in his grasp, your hands landed on either of his thighs. Reaching your hand out, you cupped his stiff cock, gently squeezing, and pulling his head towards yours. 

The sensation of his lips finding yours once again was palpable relief. You straddled him, having him remain where he originally was. The head of his cock rubbed against your slit, whimpers falling from both of your lips. 

Letting yourself sink down onto him, your eyes remained shut, head falling back as you took him all. Josh’s arms closed around you, crushing you to his chest. Slowly starting to move, the stretched sensation began to subside, immense pleasure taking over. 

His thrusts met your moves, both of you crying into the other's mouth, against their sweat covered skin, becoming one with each other. He alternated between leaving searing marks on your chest or neck, capturing your mouth, or uttering filthy words of encouragement. 

The two of you were close to your finishes, chasing your highs, your hands tangled in his locks and pulling as you felt it crash into you at a blinding pace. Gasping for breath, his cum leaking out of you and back onto his still hard shaft, you two leisurely came down from your highs.

You didn’t make a move first, letting Josh kiss all over your skin, licking the sweat away that poured from you both. Your eyes didn’t want to open, too heavy with exhaustion to even try. He moved you off of his lap, wiping you clean with a towel, and kissing your forehead as you felt asleep. 

When he left that night, you weren’t entirely sure what the next move was. Were things different? Absolutely. Was he still the prick that had been purposely fucking your life over for the last few months? Undoubtedly. Was he so attractive that your mouth went dry when you replayed certain aspects from the night before over in your mind? Unfortunately. 

The actual peace offering. The real olive branch. The non-poisonous ones that is. They were sitting on a tray, perfectly frosted, sitting in the shape of a large smiley face. Now, there could be the possibility that just the sight of cupcakes could cause a visceral reaction, but you were going to take your bets. 

Until the music started up. 

Your head snapped up and in the direction of his apartment. Wide eyes, jaw set, and shoulders tensing at the unbelievably loud music. It didn’t even sound like the normal noise, instead like there was a concert happening a mere fifteen feet away from you. 

Closing your eyes and forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you crossed the hall, tray in hand as you knocked on his door. There wasn’t an answer at first, so you knocked again, hearing a slew of voices on the other side of the wood. Maybe now wasn’t the time to do this if he had people over. 

When he didn’t answer on the second knock you quickly turned, feeling your face warm in embarrassment. His door flew open, your name escaping his lips to get your attention. You cursed to yourself, turning back around and offering a sheepish smile. His grew exponentially when he saw what you had in hand. 

You thrusted the tray towards him, trying not to peer behind him and see an audience watching this exchange. “For you. An actual I’m sorry for everything. Not spiked, promise,” you laughed at the end, doing the scouts honor salute. Before he could respond, someone who looked just like him appeared at the door.

The man’s eyes widened, a large beaming grin plastering on his features. “Oh my god, are you 3F?” A surprised expression took over your features, eyes darting between the two of them. Why did this stranger know who you were? Another figure appeared with the pair, startling you as he seemed to appear from thin air. He looked like the two, but stood a few inches taller than them.

“No way, 3F? We have heard so much about you!” The apples of Josh’s cheeks flushed red as he turned and handed the tray to the taller boy, speaking through clenched teeth as he did. “How about you shut the fuck up and go stuff these in your fat fucking hole, yeah?” You giggled at the exaggerated wink the boy offered him, taking the offering and looking back to you. 

“Well, it was a real pleasure getting to meet you 3F. I do hope my brother has learned your actual name, but he has no game so,” Josh cut him off, shoving him inside and slamming the door behind the laughing pair. 

His hands rubbed over his face, the tips of his ears burning like his face. “I am so sorry about them,” his thumb pointed over his shoulder in the direction where they had gone. You gently nudged him, wanting to egg him on. “Telling people about me, Josh?” 

Watching his eyes go wide and hearing him stutter over his words was far too entertaining. “Oh, no, no. I mean I mentioned some of the stuff to them and look they’re my little brothers so it’s like their thing to make my life as awkward as possible, like you should see some of the band interviews with them doing this shit-” you cut him off, eyebrows furrowing at his words. 

“You’re in a band?” He took in a short breath, head bobbing in response. “Greta Van Fleet. That’s what we’re called. That’s what the noise is that you’ve been subjected to for the last few months. It’s our new album and I get spurts of ideas at random times,” you nodded, finally beginning to understand his point of view. 

You eyed him, arms crossing. “Should’ve told me that. Maybe this all could have been avoided.” It was time. Time to be the bigger person.

Josh stood next to the table, dressed in a suit that perfectly encapsulated the entire being and existence that he is. The microphone in his hand, a glass of champagne in the other, speaking out to the guests in attendance. 

It was his incredibly long winded speech that everyone had been anticipating. The man did not know when to stop talking, but as his tale was about to wrap up, his eyes fell to you, sitting next to him. “Anyways, I’m not entirely sure what that story of Danny, Sam, and the giraffe have to do with this, but-” laughter flowed around the room at his tangent, your eyes filled with love and adoration as he held your gaze, “I am so glad my plan of being a complete neighbor from hell worked because I truly didn’t know how else to talk to you. I saw you when I was moving in and felt like the gods had sent you to change the entire directory of my life. You are my everything, my entire life, and I cannot wait to craft the rest of our story together.” 

You weren’t sure if you should have been happy or down right pissed, but as his co-best men all stood, raising their glasses, you wanted to table it. “To Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka!” The cheers erupted around the room, sipping from your glass and letting your husband lightly peck your lips before taking his seat.

“So your entire plan was being the biggest pain in the ass you could and hoping you would land me that way?” You leaned into his side as he beamed at you, leaning further towards you, lips landing on your cheek. “Yes, and it worked, my darling girl,” you rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your glass as he snickered in your ear, your giggles mixing with his as you watched his twin begin prepping for his turn.

Jake stood dead center of the room, microphone in hand as he began his speech. “Hello all. I want to say a quick congratulations to my brother and his wife. If there’s anything anyones ever been told it’s about being the bigger person. That’s not the case tonight. Joshy boy, strap in.  Now, everyone knows my brother peed the bed until he was eleven years old.” 

[terrakatten]

♧ The Hellerby Dynamic ♧

(Having to re-write this entire post because the first one kinda... vanished)

To an observer, it seems completely asinine to think that Mordecai and Rocky would like each other in the slightest. Their personalities contrast way too sharply! The only feelings between the two would be that of loathing, right?

Well... in reality, there's good reasons for why the mutual feelings between Heller and Rickaby wouldn't be loathing, but instead would be *love.*

♧ First and foremost, there's an inheret shared respect between them. This is thanks to them both having been through the wringer, so-to-speak.

In Lackadaisy Breakdown, Rocky speaks about hardship in his past- in his usual archaic and poetic way. The specifics are generally unclear, but this incredibly sullen mood speaks volumes and is a clear testament to having been through a lot of pain.

And in Lackadaisy Congregation, we are shown explicitly through a flashback that Mordecai has had it incredibly rough, and was imminently going to get himself killed before being taken under the wing of the Mays.

Thus,

• Mordecai has an entrenched respect and keenness towards Rocky, understanding that he too had been dealt a bad hand.

• Mordecai is able to tolerate Rocky's behavior, as he understands that such a carefree and energized domeanor is something of a coping mechanism... just like Mordecai's hyper-tidy and professional mannerisms.

And,

• Though he'd never admit it, even to himself, Mordecai oh-so-slightly admires Rocky for his rambunctious style. He sees it as Roark's way to defy and triumph over the suffering he's endured.

♧ Secondly, Mordecai and Rocky's ability to bond is bolstered by their shared appreciation of literature (alongside mutually high intellect).

It's blatant that Rocky is rather incredibly bright and well-read, evident by his rambles of poetry which're in such abundance that I needn't pin-point a specific example. As for Mordecai, his artistic taste is far more downplayed, but is shown to us a few times- namely in the Interludes "Critique" and "Warfare." It stands to reason that this time-killing hobby still persists within Mordecai.

Therefore

• Unlike the majority of people, who're mildly annoyed or bemused by Rocky's sporadic bursts of prose, Mordecai is rather fond of the behavior. When Rocky begins on a poetic tangent, Mordecai simply lets him go on while his lips form a barely-visible and content smile. This liking of the poetry is something he'd nevertheless deny if Rocky knowingly accuses Mordecai of it, the ostensive professional dismissingly telling Rocky that he was simply being courteous by letting him spew his incoherent drivel.

• In spending private time together, Rocky likes having Mordecai read to him. It combines his enjoyment of the finer side of language with his desire to listen to Mordecai's soothing voice for a nice, uninterrupted bit of time.

♧ Thirdly, the additional pleasantries of this shared respect and fondness.

• In the same way he looks up to Mitzi for her authority and elegance, Rocky admires Mordecai for his refinement and assertiveness, finding something about such resilience as highly alluring. Resultant of this, all Mordecai has to do to make Rocky get a little bit flusted is to imbue his commanding and weighted professional voice with a twinge of flirtation. It's something Mordecai revels in, with a smirk forming on his face whenever Rocky shows little symptoms of being flushed.

• Rocky flirts with Mordecai in an over-the-top and dramatic way, spouting vibrant and fancy poetic lines one after the other to form a convoluted and eccentric yet nonetheless endearing and heartfelt message. Mordecai finds such acts cute, though puts up his deflective wall of aloofness and dismisses Rocky's poetry of love... in a more playful way than he'd usually tell someone off.

• Rocky is pretty clingy in his affection for Mordecai, and attacks him with hugs somewhat often. This is met with defense from Mordecai similar to what we see in the "Hugsperiment" Interlude...

...though he eventually lets down his guard if Rocky pesters him long enough. That doesn't mean he'll reciprocate the embrace or drop the irritated act- unless the hug's being done in private, as otherwise Mordecai couldn't stomach subjecting himself to such 'humiliation' before others, despite Rocky's persistence.

-• On that note: Despite seeming to have the culminative intelligence of a small puppy, Rocky's smart enough to understand Mordecai's sense of personal space, and does take care to not overstep and end up being genuinely intrusive.

♧ Miscellaneous Notes On Their Bond:

• Mordecai is incredibly protective of Rocky.

-• Mordecai reflexively will tidy up Rocky's appearence; fixing up his tie, patting down some divergent strands of fur, flicking off any specks and blemishes on his shirt. Mordecai claims to do so out of being unable to stand a person near him being untidy, but the main motive for this tick is his desire to keep Rocky away from the filthy and unkempt dirtiness that permeated his youth.

-• Mordecai'd be the first to give basic first aid for any little boo-boo Rocky gets, treating the lightest bruises and the tiniest cuts with unflinching seriousness. It's to Rocky's minor amusement and attraction, as seeing Mordecai so absolutely focused on his wellbeing kindles a warm feeling that one gets when one knows that someone truly cares for them.

• Mordecai has bought Rocky poetry collection books on more than one occassion; most often as birthday gifts.

• Mordecai's the superior cook, and sometimes whips together breakfast for himself and Rocky. However, Mordecai's more of a waffle guy, and won't budge from Rocky's occassional plea to just make pancakes- getting a small, benign kick over this bit of leverage.

In Conclusion...

Although it seems like these two cats shouldn't get along in the slightest, they ultimately share deep love- despite both of their eccentric styles making their respective affirmations of said love come out in more indirect and roundabout ways than a typical couple. Their bond and mutual respect is a source of warmth that helps soothe both of their hearts, with this tender flame being one that, ultimately, shall never be snuffed out.

[sotwk]

Hi! For What Would This Thranduilion Do? what would Turhir do if someone wanted to ask him to dance with them but were really shy and kept stuttering while asking?

Turhir has been my favorite of the Thranduilion brothers! I love your seeing your writing on my feed! Thanks!

Thank you for being a member of Turhir's little fan club! <3 I'm trying to recruit more members, and sending Asks that give me the opportunity to talk/write about him helps! :D I really appreciate you!

"If someone wanted to ask him to dance with them but were really shy and kept stuttering while asking..."

What Would Turhir Thranduilion Do?

SotWK Fancast: Sam Heughan as Prince Turhir Thranduilion

Turhir is no stranger to people acting nervous around him. His entire life, he has always been the most intimidating-looking one of the Thranduilion princes, due to his great size and stern demeanor. This serves him well in his military duties, but has negatively affected his success at social events, especially next to his charismatic family members.

Someone approaching him to ask him to dance would require a lot of courage, a quality that would instantly catch his notice and earn his respect.

The stuttering would make him smile, not because he thinks it's funny, but because he finds it endearing. As a child, he too was shy, awkward, and self-conscious, so he would understand the struggle.

Turhir appears a hundred times gentler when he smiles, so hopefully that breaks the ice. If not, a courteous bow and a softly spoken, "It would be my honor," before he takes her hand and leads her to the floor, would do the trick.

Prince Turhir, who moves with a warrior's precision and grace, is a very good dancer--but in formal partner dances only, the kind where steps are pre-learned. While he doesn't spontaneously dance in events such as festivals, he enjoys balls and having quiet one-on-one time with people. Slow dances are his comfort zone; even the intimate aspects of it don't faze him.

He would take the opportunity to speak to his dance partner and get to know her better, as he would be especially intrigued by any maiden who gathered up the courage to ask him.

Royal protocol discourages the Princes from dancing with the same partner twice in one night, so as much as Turhir would wish to dance with the lady again, he is not one to flout the rules.

He would, however, discreetly ask for a chance to spend more time with her, perhaps for a private moment outside the ballroom, later in the evening. (Princely duties require he mingle with as many attendees as possible.) Or, if he decides he enjoys the special lady's company, he would not hesitate to seek her out the following day.

No maiden need be shy or scared of asking any of Thranduil's sons to dance, since they are all far too courteous to turn anyone down. There's nothing to lose and everything to gain from the experience! :)

This "What Would This Thranduilion Do" game was part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024.