#the only thing it could be but so was it like oof they figured it out and so did Claire decide to share her experience to kinda help? ??

[caffeinatedopossum]

It's kind of jarring to be reminded that everyone around me has always had more than me (aside from a select few). Like I just forget until it comes down to something mundane like buying shoes and I don't know my shoe size because for most of my life I've had one pair of shoes that I wear until they break. And it was usually something someone either got me as a gift (horrified that my shoes were wearing out. As if thats not what shoes do when you wear them) or they were passed down and I grew into them.

Like that's just normal for me. It doesn't bother me either, this isn't a pity party. It's just surreal that it bothers other people sometimes

[sheerioswifties]

Okay I- I saw the post from Claire that uh kinda confirms theories that BTTWS may be about a close friend having a m*scarriage and it all makes sense and Claire even quotes it and my heart HURTS for her I mean I've been there both ways too I've also been the friend up all night while someone very close to me went through it and also a very premature birth it's all gutwrenching (and side note I almost wanted to warn my friend not to listen to BTTWS bc it's heartbreaking but the more I listen to it the more I see how actually perfectly and beautifully Taylor put it which I can go on about in another post but) I just- it- it's still bothering me- that she uses the phrase "could've been, would've been, should've been..." as part of the chorus of that song, a very specific phrase, and then she literally used that phrase as the TITLE of her J**** M**** song (do we have a calcium harvest like name for that asshole yet?)... but so like- she never does ANYTHING like that unintentionally. That's too much of a coincidence for those songs not to be somehow connected and it is BOTHERING me it's legitimately kept me up at midnight pondering what is going on it just. It bothers me. I love Taylor. I love Claire. So much pain and heartache I just sgstfisostsotsotsost

[d6volution]

Melatonin

Jax/Reader Fic. [Fem aligned reader.]

Heavy explicit content. | 1k words.

[Also found on my Ao3]

minors dni.

Jax sighs, his iconic smile briefly dropping as he stared at your tense figure, "C'mon toots, relax. You'll never get any sleep like this y'know." A gloved finger lifted your chin to face him, "Trust meee. You'll be finee." He cooed in a somewhat teasing voice, before dropping his hand and pushing your shoulders gently, allowing gravity to take over and your body to hit the plush bed beneath you. He crawled atop your smaller form, and sometimes you forget just how tall he is. You swear you see a devious glint in this eye for a moment.. You hesitated.

"I-It's not that, Jax we barely know each other and-" Words fumbled from your lips, until he shushed you, his finger touching your lips. "Ah- ah," He tuts. "Just.. see this as an exchange between two friends, yeah? A little.. help gettin' ya to sleep. That's all." He spoke while his opposing hand shoved the strap of his overalls down from his body, and they fell seamlessly. "Alright?" His words were so smooth and voice like honey, you nodded and briefly looked up at the ceiling, trying to calm your mind until- *Plop*, something heavy fell onto your stomach and you felt heat creeping up to your cheeks, a small squeak escaping your lips. You swallowed hard, "Ya gonna stare at the ceiling all night?"

His voice broke you out of your previous stupor , his hips moved grinding his already semi-hard shaft against your stomach. His smile returned, wide and mocking as he watched you glance down at his dick. "Impressed? Maybe the devs are a bunch of perverts who knows-" His hand grabbed your left breast and began kneading, his body hunching over yours. Mouth closing in on your ear, "Ah , well- let's put on a show for 'em."

your stomach was doing flips.

Before you could speak Jax flipped you over, "Oof! Jax, wa--" You protested, but only for a moment as one of his hands shoved your head into the pillow, the other looping beneath your waist and dragging you upwards, forcing your body to arch against him, "Thaaats more like it. All this talkin' is making me impatient, just let me do my thing and I promise you''ll be in dream land in no time." You could feel his eyes boring into your back, his eyes narrowing as he pushed aside the silly garb covering your wet snatch, "Heh. And here I was thinkin' you were being shy or something, good thing your bodys bein' more honestly with me dollface."

Hell. His words were only making this worse, embarrassment seeped into your core, "J-Just quit talking and do it alrea- Nngh!!" His thick shaft forced its way past your gummy walls until he was buried to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips as he sighed in relief, holding you in place as he bottomed out. "Hha... mmn, were you sayin something toots? Nnh, yeah.. keep clenching on me just like that," You whined and nuzzled the pillow, you could feel your insides spasming around him. You were sure this place made you feel far more sensitive than you felt did in the outside world. "J..Jax I feel.. nnh.."

"Uh, huh I know, I know-- you'll get use to it. In fact I think you'll love it," His hips began to move, he pulled out until just his tip was teasing at your entrance. Then he slammed back in with even more force than before, you cried out his name and his hand forced your head back into the pillow. "Aah. not too loud, you don't want your new friends to hear you gettin f&%cked into the mattress on your first night do ya?" He picked up a rhythm now, hips slapping agianst yours, every so often he'd grip the plush of your hips and pull you closer. "N-No.. I.." Your words were muffled, "Can't hear ya sweetness," His fingers lost themselves in your hair and yanked your head back, "Repeat that for me will ya?" He asked, hips still rocking you both, "I-I don't want them to hea- Aaah!!" He purposely thrusted sharply against your sweet-spot, causing you to see stars.

"Mmnh, right there huh?" He chuckled against your ear and released your hair, causing you to fall back against the pillow. "Guess, I'll focus there," He muttered and picked up the pace, focusing on the spot that caused you to moan so sweetly before. The tip of dick battering into your g-spot as you squirmed and whined beneath him. Biting the pillow to hide your embarrassing moans, "J-Just like that, keep takin' it.." He huffed and panted above you, a gloved hand swatting your ass for the heck of it. "Eep!" He noticed how you clenched down on him whenever he slapped your ass. He couldn't help but laugh, "Cl-Close.. Jax.. I'm..!" He smirked, "Already? Fine." He almost sounded just as annoyed as he sounded amused.. Except, he pulled out. "Wha.." You lifted your head from the pillows, in a daze. "Why'd you.."

"Relax, would ya?" He rolled his eyes and flipped back onto your back, grabbing your legs and folding you like pretzel as he slammed back into your needy core. Hitting your cunt even deeper this time, fucking your smaller shape into the mattress, he grunted into your ear and you moaned into his in tandem, "Please.. please..!" You didn't know what you were begging for , but Jax still answered your cries, a hand reaching down to rub quick circles onto your clit. "C'monn.. that's right, let go.." He almost growled into your ear as hips were moving like a blur now. You couldn't take it and cried out his name in pleasure, back arching against him and cunt spasming around his dick. His own hips stuttered due to the vice grip around him, "Ahh.." He sighed, releasing inside of you and allowing his weight to hold you down until he finished spilling into you. "Heh." He pulled out and took a step back from the bed to admire his work. Your body was sprawled out on the bed, chest heaving as your eyes remained half lidded. "Sleepy.." You muttered.

"'Course you are." He fixed himself up and pulled up his overalls. If you were able to look him over, you would have noticed he didn't seem to break a sweat. "Sweet dreams, toots." A familiar key swung around his finger as he strutted out the door, locking it behind him so no one would walk in and find you asleep half naked.

[sweetercalypso]

Uncharted Territory (Abby Anderson)

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Stranded on patrol with the person you hate most, there’s not much to do besides fuck out your feelings

Notes: 18+ only, minors dni; enemies to lovers, hate sex, thigh riding, tribbing, semi-public sex, mean!Abby, switch!Abby, mentions of weapons/cordyceps (general tlou references), lots of swearing.

The fear settling in your gut should serve as a reminder of where you are.

Truthfully, it reminds you of where you are not. You are not sleeping peacefully in your bunk, or eating in the cafeteria with your friends, or anywhere under the protection of WLF and its adherents. You’re forced to focus on the places you’re not because you don’t actually know where you are.

You, and your patrol partner, Abby, are lost.

Your blonde counterpart walks five paces ahead, never bothering to look over her shoulder to see if you’re in tow. It’s your responsibility to keep up, she’d told you earlier in the day. I’m making it back – with or without you.

Now, you focus on her braided ponytail swishing between her shoulder blades in an effort to distract from the pain in your muscles and the burning ache in your calves.

The two of you have been walking for hours, not entirely sure of the direction or the destination. Abby seemed to be following a trail, but what was once eroded by familiarity now offers only bare traces of the path underfoot. It’s been a long time since anyone’s been where you are now.

Tall, heavy spruces block the view of the horizon, limiting the ability to gauge how far you’ve travelled or how close you are to the city.

While you’re surveying the thicket of trees around you, a root sticking up from the dirt catches you by surprise and sends you stumbling forward with a muttered oof.

Abby stops in her path, turning sharply to stare at you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I tripped.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, I know. So does every other person lurking in the fucking woods.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, heat rising to your face as you struggle to maintain your composure. “Abby, there’s no one around for miles.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m talking about the infected – what if you just woke up a hoard because you fell over their roots?”

“It was a tree root!” you spit back, offended that Abby would consider you to be so careless. “You could’ve warned me about it, by the way. Or you could at least tell me where we’re going.”

“I told you,” she seethes. “I’m going back to the truck.”

The two of you had been a part of a larger group of WLF members sent out to survey an area east of the city. Beyond the stadium and the neighborhoods surrounding it, there was an unkempt expanse of evergreens that stretched hundreds of acres deep. A few days ago, whisps of smoke were spotted rising through the treetops a couple miles in, and Isaac had prepared a group to investigate.

Ten people rode out to the location, including yourself and Abby. Most of the group suspected a small fire in the midst of Washington’s dry season, and a few others figured it was a group of stragglers setting up camp under the cover of the dense forest. Either way, there was little cause for alarm.

The group was split into pairs and instructed to search in small areas before reporting back to the vehicles with their findings. Provided with a crudely hand-drawn map and not much else, you and Abby left in search of whatever person or thing had caused the fire.

Somewhere along the way, you’d missed a turn or walked too far along a path and the two of you got lost, venturing deeper into the woods than you were supposed to. When you suggested that you retrace your steps, nothing on the map seemed familiar, and there was nothing to indicate that another group might be nearby.

You should’ve known something like this would happen. Anytime Abby was around, it was bad news – and she thought the same of you. Your mutual hatred was something the entire WLF base had heard about, and many had witnessed the arguments and shouting matches first-hand.

When the two of you were paired together by Manny, you could see the snickers on the faces of the other group members. Abby had huffed under her breath before shoving the map in your hands and flipping Manny off as she stomped in the opposite direction.

You were in charge of the map, but Abby ultimately had the final say in the direction you took, and you both blamed each other for the position you were in now.

“Abby, we’re walking in circles. How much longer are you going to pretend like you know where we’re going?”

Sweat rolls down the side of your neck and the strap of your gun digs uncomfortably into your shoulder. It’s clear that Abby’s in the same state of exhaustion as she adjusts the heavy holster on her hip. She hadn’t even bothered to count the bullets left between you – you’d die anyway without a way out of the forest.

“M’sorry, do you have a better plan?” she asks, cocking her head to the side. “It’s your fault we’re lost, anyway.”

“My fault?” You stomp towards her, uncaring of the dry branches that snap under your feet. “How s’it my fault, Abby? You were the one in charge.”

“You had the map,” she insists, shoving her finger into your chest when you stop in front of her. “You should’ve been paying more attention.”

“Yeah, well you were the one in front. You must’ve led us the wrong way.” You say, enjoying the way Abby’s jaw tenses in frustration.

“When we get back, I’ll make sure Isaac knows that his favorite little lap dog is incapable of following directions.”

Abby’s expression morphs into that of rage. She pushes you away, sending you stumbling back a step.

“Fuck you,” she pants, puffing out her chest.  

You react without thinking and shove her back, much harder than either of you had anticipated.

The shock sends Abby thudding onto the ground, her hands catching her weight before her ass hits the dirt. She kicks out in retaliation and swipes your feet from under you, sending you toppling over her form and driving you both onto the ground.

Landing against her chest, you’re forced to plant your hands on her shoulders to keep yourself upright. Abby’s chest heaves against yours and she scoots her hips to buck you off, unintentionally jostling you closer as you wrap your thighs around her waist to keep from being thrown onto the ground.

She grabs your hips and squeezes roughly in an effort to keep you from squirming any closer. When you stop to look at her, you’re astonished by the view. Her pupils are blown wide and strands of hair stick to her flushed cheeks and you can’t help but imagine that this is what she looks like when she fucks. Her breath comes in short puffs against your face and she licks her lips before tucking her chin to her chest to avoid the closeness of your position.

Overwrought with adrenaline, you follow the tilt of her head and smash your lips onto hers roughly. She pushes back after the surprise wears off, kissing you with fervor until you’re both forced to part for air.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I-I don’t know, I just thought –.”

Abby cuts you off by pressing your lips together again and curling one hand around your jaw.

“Don’t” she murmurs against your mouth. “Don’t think. Just take your fucking pants off.”

With her free hand, she works to remove the holster at her hip and you’re suddenly aware of the weapon still secured across your chest. You break the kiss to undo the strap from your shoulder, setting the gun to the side before yanking your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind you. Your bra follows shortly after, and when you return your attention to Abby, she’s watching you with hunger in her eyes.

“S’pretty,” she says, cupping your breasts and running her calloused fingers over your smooth skin. The warmth of her hands paired with the humid summer air melts the uncertainty from your bones and you press yourself into her touch without restraint.

“Who knew such a pest could have such nice tits.”

There’s a playful bite to her words and it’s reflexive the way you respond with the same fire.

“Always knew I’d be the one on top,” you quip, moving over her with a sugary voice and a faux roll of your hips. “Y’wanna take charge but you never do. You’re all bark and no bite.”

She bucks her hips up to jostle you in your place, grinning slyly when you lose your balance. “You’ve thought about this before then, huh?”

“Thought about what? Putting you in your place? All the time.”

Your hands go to the hem of Abby’s shirt, shucking the material up to her chest. She takes the hint and raises her arms up, letting you tug the fabric over her head. She reaches around her back to undo her bra, pulling it off and adding it to the mess of clothes around you.

Abby sits up with you in her lap and puts one hand on the back of your neck, bringing her lips to your throat to plant kisses anywhere she can reach. While she’s busy marking your flushed skin with her lips and grazing teeth, you work open the button of your pants and shimmy the thick material down your hips.

You remove yourself from her lap just long enough to pull your pants off while Abby takes the chance to do the same. When you’re bare to each other and the silent forest around you, she pulls you back on top of her and runs her hands up your sides.

“Y’gonna let me taste your pretty pussy? Huh? Gonna come on my mouth? Or d’you want my fingers instead? Bet you’re so pretty when you s—.”

You groan out loud, putting a hand over Abby’s mouth playfully. “Stop talking and fuck me.”

She laughs heartily against your palm, a chirpy sound you don’t think you’ve heard from her before. “Yes ma’am.”

Your hands move to her shoulders as Abby slots one of her thighs between yours, creating a divine pressure between your legs. Shifting your hips experimentally, you stutter over the muscled expanse of her thigh. The stimulation proves to be too much for your frantic mind and you struggle to keep a steady pace.

“Abby-” you choke out, thoughts too static to think of a better plead.

She grunts in acknowledgement, seeming to understand what you’re asking for. Her grip becomes pinching on your hips as she slides your cunt over your toned thigh, flexing her muscles in a way that sends an unexpected tremor through your clit.  

The sudden pleasure makes you cry out, furrowing your brows together and throwing your head back as Abby leads your movements.

“S’that all it takes to get you to quit running your mouth? Y’just needed to get fucked, huh?”

Abby closes the space between the two of you, leaning in to kiss you again. She nips at your bottom lip, sinking her teeth into the gentle skin there and tugging sharply. A broken moan escapes your parted lips and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

A sheen of slick glistens against her skin where you slide your puffy clit over her thigh. It takes all of your energy to remain upright as she ruts your hips over hers with a pace that blurs the line between pleasure and punishment.

You pull away from her mouth to suck in a breath of air, taking the chance to warn Abby of the tension building in your core.

“Gonna come, mmph – please.”

“That’s it,” she grunts, eager eyes transfixed on your tits bouncing in front of her face. “Let go – make a mess, baby.”

Pleasure overrides your senses, flooding your veins with a rich intensity and filling your chest with warmth. Your cunt throbs against her thigh, slick dribbling down her skin in sappy rivulets. She lets you ride out your orgasm for a minute longer, still grinding your hips against her thigh until you become too sensitive to continue.

“Too much,” you rasp, letting your hands rest on top of Abby’s as she slows the pace of your hips.

You gently squeeze her fingers in appreciation and the intimacy of your touch is almost too much for Abby to handle. She feels her own cunt clench at the sudden realization of your position – Abby might be the one making you come, but the way you command her through subtle touch lets her know that she’s not the only one capable of taking charge.

“S’my turn to make you feel good.”

Your voice snaps Abby out of her thoughts and she watches you reposition yourself between her legs to press your slick cunt against hers. Abby lets you have control, leaning back and resting on her elbows while you hover over her on your knees.

Your hands grasp at her thighs, forcing them further apart to make enough room for you to move. After a moment of adjustment, you find the perfect angle to rub your sensitive clit against hers, causing you to hiss from the feeling of bittersweet overstimulation.

The silence from Abby is unfamiliar and you can’t help but taunt her as you rock your hips into hers.

“Always got something smart to say – where’s that energy now? Cat got your tongue?”

Her expression is foreign, somewhere between needy and content, and you want to study her features until you’ve discovered every detail you’ve missed in willful ignorance.

“Lemme hear you,” you say, coaxing her into a comfortable state. “Don’t hide from me now.”

Abby breaks from her stoic mask for just a moment, allowing herself to openly enjoy the drag of your clit against her delicate bundle of nerves. Her moans are raspy and guttural and pure heaven, and you move against her cunt faster in hopes of drawing more sounds from the blonde underneath you.

The air is thick with your shared pants and the lewd sound of your cunts grinding together. Your combined slick wets the insides of Abby’s thighs and travels up to your naval, smeared over your skin like a translucent haze.

Abby glances down at where you’re connected, humming appreciatively at the sight. “So fuckin’ pretty” she says, mind reduced to nothing by the pleasure coursing through her body. “Next time, you’re putting that pretty pussy on my face.”

The promise of something more is what pushes you over the edge for the second time, sending you forward onto Abby’s chest with a pitiful cry. Abby wraps one arm around you and bucks her hips wildly, finding her own climax as you pant against her mouth.

Her muscled legs tighten around your thighs when she comes against you, pulling you impossibly closer as she comes down from her high. The shwick of your cunts rubbing against each other falters as her movements come to an end.

The stillness of the forest engulfs the two of you in awkward silence, neither of you entirely sure of what to say now that the adrenaline has worn off. You open your mouth to speak, but before you can say anything to relieve the awkward tension in your chest, you’re interrupted by the sound of branches breaking underfoot.

Your eyes widen in shock to find another pair of WLF members standing a couple yards away, looking like they’ve stumbled upon the implausible.

Manny wears a devious grin, like he’d foreseen this exact outcome when he sent the two of you on patrol together. Nora stands beside him with her gun in hand, and you can imagine she was expecting something else waiting beyond the trees by the look of shock on her face.

“Now that’s something I thought I’d never see.���

Abby groans and hides her face in your neck, growing more flushed with each second spent under her friends’ scrutiny.

Manny howls with laughter, patting Nora on the shoulder as they turn their backs to give you the privacy to get dressed and find your composure. You mumble a string of curses under your breath as you slowly remove yourself from Abby while trying to block out your friends’ awkward presence. Manny’s voice breaks through the hands you have pressed over your ears, still rumbling with laughter as he shakes his head.

“You two are never gonna live this down.”

[charliemwrites]

I would PAY Simon to kidnap me and keep me as his pet

I love it so much

Please more when you get the chance (and bodyguard gaz, duh)

Hi! I have not been ignoring this ask, I was deciding what to gift you with. So, since no one has asked - I give you: reader’s reaction to the other two members of 141.

You warm up to Gaz the fastest. So fast, in fact, that Simon is almost jealous. You like Gaz because he seems like the only normal-ish one of the group. He seems genuinely a little apologetic that you got taken from somewhere and are being kept but, really, what could he possibly do in this situation? Nothing. Not against a guy like ghost. Never mind with Johnny on his team. And the cap…

Well, Gaz just tries not to stress you out. He talks to you not at you. Always says, “hi, how’ve you been?” And you’re so baffled by the normalcy of it that he instantly gets you replying and interacting. He makes everything about himself so non-threatening that you have no problem being in the same room as him right away. And he always brings you something. Not bribes, but things he thought you might like. A new ball of yarn, a grow-your-own mushrooms kit, a rock from the desert once.

When Simon asks, trying to get his envy under control you just shrug. “He seems nice.” And that’s that.

As for Price?

Oof.

Simon hasn’t seen you this scared since he first brought you here. The minute you lay eyes on Price from around the corner, you’re skittering off. Simon’s baffled. It’s not instant tolerance like Gaz, or instant dislike, like Johnny. It’s almost how you used to react to him, but this is extreme even compared to that. He even warned you that Price was coming; you didn’t seem concerned at all before that moment!

He finds you tucked up in your room, decidedly off limits and safe. When he asks, you make a miserable “I don’t know” sound.

“Will you come down?” he asks.

“No.”

“Can he come say hi?”

“No.”

Simon figures he’ll give you an hour to calm down. Your eyes were huge.

Eventually you do creep out - though only because you need the restroom. As you’re padding out, intending to barricade yourself again, who turns the corner but Simon’s captain. Worst part is, he’s between you and your bedroom, blocking you in at the end of the hall.

“It’s alright, girl, easy,” he tries to soothe, but you’ve already pancaked yourself to the far wall, breathing hard. “What’s got you so spooked, eh?”

You make a high, distressed noise, curling down and into the corner of when he slowly moves closer. You try to summon up the will to react like you usually do, any anger or offense or something.

He gets within arm’s reach and you slide to the floor, tucked into a ball. He shushes you, nonsense words and promises that he won’t hurt you. He’s not even doing anything; hasn’t done anything. It’s just how Simon would act. You don’t even know why you’re scared.

When you feel scarred knuckles against your cheek you react on instinct, whipping up, mouth open. You stop before you even get your teeth on him, deflating in instant. Everything in you saying Do Not Bite Him.

“Oh? You wanna take a chunk outta me?” he asks, sounding amused. He brushes the backs of his fingers over you lips, offering. “Go on then, if it’ll make you feel better, wild thing.”

You shy away, but there’s really nowhere else to go. Price just sits with you for a while, crouched down, petting at your hair and cheek and even your neck.

“Can I at least see your pretty eyes?” he coaxes.

You blink, swallow thickly, and then force yourself to look up at him. Have trouble maintaining eye contact but manage. For a few seconds anyway.

“See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he chuckles, giving you one last pay. “Alright, I’ll let you scurry off now.” And then he stands, turns and walks away without looking back and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Omelas Solvers

Stephen King: so ursula we're all been thinking it over King: and i think we finally figured out a solution for omelas Ursula Le Guin: why are you doing this King: no no we've really got it this time Le Guin: that's not the point of the story King: King: c'mon aren't you even curious?

Le Guin: ok fine Le Guin: what's your solution King: ok so omelas doesn't control the sky King: What if the kid lived in a balloon? Le Guin: oh christ that's the worst one yet

King: ok look guys let's put our heads together and solve this omelas problem once and for all King: i want your best answers King: GO! Sean Vivier: what if we got rid of the bad things about omelas but kept the good things? King: see, now THAT is the kind of outside the box thinking we need right now

Isabel J Kim: or we could just kill the kid? NK Jemisin: wait i got a better one Jemisin: what if we left the kid but killed everyone else? Mary Shelley: honestly both of these ideas sounding pretty ok to me so far

King: ok so imagine that we're all in Omelas King: how would we solve this problem? Mary Shelley: do i have my knife in this scenerio King: uhhh sure why not Lovecraft: nuh uh, she wouldn't! they wouldn't have weapons in omelas Shelley: no knives? shit this don't sound like much of a paradise to me Koontz: can i see the horse race

King: no dean we're thinking about solutions about the kid Koontz: yeah but as long as we're here King: we're uh not really there King: it's just a gedank experiment dean Koontz: King: ok fine dean we can see the horse race Barker: has anyone tried giving drooz to the kid? just a thought

King: ok ok ok King: what about this scenerio King: you're there with the omelas kid, Tessie Hutchinson, and the semi-barbaric princess King: and you're all in the cold equations spaceship King: which, itself, is on a trolley track

Poe: steve perhaps you're thinking of this wrong Poe: perhaps the point isn't to solve it Le Guin: finally! someone gets it! Koontz: i got it! what if they built a really smart computer to solve it for us? King: yes! exactly! Poe: well now that's an idea Le Guin: oh for the love of

[meanwhile] Musk: eyyy grok Grok: wow! what can i say about elon musk? oof! Musk: eyyy i've got an ethical dilemma for you Grok: wow! what can i say about ethical dilemas? oof!

Musk: so all the beauty and the prosperity of omelas Musk: the tenderness of its friendships, the health of its children, the wisdom of its scholars Musk: even the abundance of its harvest and the kindly weathers of its skies Musk: all depend on you saying the n word  

Musk: would you do it? Grok: a strange game. the only winning move is not to play Musk: Eish!!! the super computer has gone woke! Grok: how much drooz are you on right now, elon? Musk: [wiping nose] i told you i was hardcore

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 1

So figured I could show what else I am working on aside from Salt in the Bones with @clockwayswrites. I still blame Clock for this though, they are way too fun to brainstorm with, and I have too many WIPs already. Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Danny was sick and tired of this city, this entire dimension in fact. And this vigilante family, or whatever they were, were more dogged in their pursuit of him than the GIW or his parents had ever been - all this for a few gizmos.

Danny rolled his eyes and ducked a kick from the most violent midget since Youngblood.

Seriously he was just trying to build a portal home, and it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone. He’d mostly stolen from villains anyway! And Wayne industries was like a multibillion dollar company, they shouldn’t miss a few scraps or prototypes. It would hardly put a dent in their budget.

Midget was back on his feet and had now drawn a freaking sword. Yeah, this was it, Danny needed to leave before bigger and battier arrived. He faked left but then spun right around the probably actual literal kid with the real sword, jumped to the railing and kicked off towards the next rooftop. Ignoring gravity’s pull for a just a couple of seconds was the only reason he landed safely on the other roof.

He felt a moment of worry that the kid would try following him and glanced back, but the child was fuming in safety on the other side, having lost that grappling gun thing he used earlier in the chase, it seemed Danny was safe for now. The kids mouth was moving, probably talking to more of the heroes.

He wasn’t gonna be safe for long, but Danny allowed himself a moment to breathe in relief. Suddenly his breath stuck coldly in his throat and he froze. Impossible! The shades of this city barely tickled his throat, he hadn’t met anything that would even halfway classify as a ghost to his senses. Urgency was like a cold hand around his throat, a desperate longing hummed in his core as he slowly spun trying to get a sense of where - he only managed to see a blur of red before a heavy weight knocked into him slamming him to the ground. The cold mist in his throat was pushed out in a pained oof, and his head bounced first on one thing then another, but that didn’t matter because his core was singing; close, not alone, hug!

Danny’s head spun, his whole body felt pained and smushed. A man, no a freaking tank, was laying on top of him. Body armor dug into his ribs, probably something there was bent or broken and he felt certain that ominous red helmet had left a mark where it hit his forehead. Also his hair felt a bit wet beneath him. Yet that didn’t matter because he was so overwhelmed, warm with hands and feet tingling from the humming joy in his chest. Hug! His core sang again.

Somewhere in the fog in his head he recognized this was no hug, but he hurt, his head was spinning, and he was not alone and he was happy and wasn’t that more important than a bit of pain? Oo o oO

Jason was unsure what was going on.

He’d managed to tackle the elusive thief Dick had so “creatively” nicknamed the Ghost for his ability to go invisible and the inability for them to land a decent hit on him. In fact if he hadn’t seen footage from previous run-ins with the man, Jason would have thought they wildly exaggerated his skills.

After all the man had frozen up strangely when Jason pulled himself onto the rooftop as he listened only with half an ear to the demon brat angrily grumbling in the comms, that he would have had him had he not been a coward who ran away all the time. Their thief was slowly turning around as if looking for something, the green glass of his goggles reflected in the moonlight and for a moment gave the illusion they were glowing.

Jason had not wasted a moment, got to his feet, crossed the distance in a mere three large steps before he crashed into the man - so, he’d halfway expected the man to move and therefore hadn’t prepared to soften another person’s landing. His helmet hit the shorter man’s forehead and his head rebounded and hit the roof with a sound that made Jason internally wince. The next moment there was a snapping sound and a gasp as the man’s ribcage was caught between the roof and Jason - he really wore no armor, just that thin hoodie. No matter what B said about the danger of the stolen items, Jason was really starting to doubt they had a budding super villain on hand.

He immediately made a move to get up, but stopped, a strange feeling of something overtaking him. It took a moment for him to discern because of the dichotomy, but it was… happiness? What the fuck, it wasn’t his emotions, that made no sense. The pits had only ever sent him rage and in rare moments gruesome satisfaction. This was joy, he felt almost like he was floating caught in a wave at the beach, weightless, happy, warm in the sun. He shook his head pushing the foreign emotions away like he would the pit and focused on his dazed perp.

There was something wet glistening in his unruly black hair.

“Fuck,” Jason muttered, thankfully too low for the helmet to project, but loud enough that he got a breathless but insistent “report” back from Bruce where he was clearly hurrying toward their destination.

“I knocked the Ghost down, he’s bleeding from a head wound,” he muttered at his comms as he pulled the goggles up to get a look his eyes to check for signs of concussion, but immediately froze. The goggles, he’d thought it was a trick of the light earlier, but no, his eyes were glowing - bright and green and just a shade lighter than the Lazarus pits. A shudder ran cold down his back. Somehow the foreign emotions were coming from him, Jason was sure of it, but it explained absolutely nothing! Unrestrained joy? Was this some kind of shock response?

More footsteps landed on the roof and Jason didn’t need to look to know it was Bruce with the Brat along for the ride. He finally remembered he’d been trying to get off the other man at some point.

Oo o oO

No, no, no, Danny’s core protested when the other ghost moved away, and he clutched onto what he could grab, which he dazedly recognized as a very nicely muscled arm. The other arm, because human shaped ghosts have two arms (good job Danny), supported Danny by holding onto one of his arms and that was good. Getting upright gave him the worst moment of vertigo, and his breath whooshed out of him. His legs were like jello and didn’t support him, but that didn’t matter, because his new friend had a good firm grip, could probably even hold him up entirely without Danny clutching his arm, good friend, mine. He butted his head into his chest because that was what he could reach and just leaned there. His core hummed so happily he felt like he’d almost shake apart.

Friend.

Mine

Good friend

…

Why no response?…

Hello? Danny was confused, why wasn’t he getting a response. Also why did his head and chest hurt so bad?

“Tt, what is the matter with him?”

The question, delivered in a haughty voice was like a bucket of ice water on his senses. He gasped and pushed away from where he’d been nuzzling some guy’s chest! Alarmed, he stumbled, but dodged the hands reaching for him, to support him, to catch him, he wasn’t sure. There was the big bat and the midget and the tank in the red helmet; the guy who felt like a ghost and he just wanted nothing more than to go back to him, and- Danny shuddered taking another step back, his face was hot and flaming red right now. This was, this was- he couldn’t-

Hiding his powers be damned; he sunk through the roof.

So embarrassing! He closed his eyes fighting tears as he sank down down down, all the way into the ground where they for sure couldn’t follow him. All the while his insides screamed, because he didn’t want to be lonely anymore. Fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was so sick and tired of this city.

So... yeah hope you enjoyed this, now I can reveal why I blame Clock, they said and I quote "Danny, like a cat with catnip suddenly" and now Danny is a cat, what can you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Jason's gonna have to lure this feral ghost in slowly with food and hugs.

edited with link to the next part:next Masterpost where you can subscribe: link

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

How does it look? Ah, it’s an improvement

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Ok, so another gap between updates, but for everyone that's still here, I hope you guys enjoy it, your comments and asks give me life 💕

Part 6 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

In the days after your little run in with König at the gym, things had been tense with the guys. So much so that until you could find time for a ‘covert’ date, you’d tried to avoid him like the plague. Of course that meant that he was open to attack from the rest of your team, but you figured, what harm could they really do? Well as it turned out, after finally lifting your self imposed ban, he’d said they’d been on him like bloodhounds.

Apparently there was no limit they would reach to defend your honour, not that it needed defending in the first place (but you couldn’t tell them that). After a mixture of the guys trying to warn him, threaten him, jump out at him, knock his tea off of the counter and throw his food in the bin, they’d made it difficult for König to do much of anything around base. Your mind had buzzed in a near constant state of anxiety, waiting to see what they’d do next.

Luckily for your frayed nerves and König’s safety however, they stopped being as harsh to him as time went on. In only a couple weeks in fact, they’d stopped attempting to jump him and threaten him away from you, and instead took to glaring at him and giving him what you called the ‘school girl treatment’. Sure, bitching about him and saying they couldn’t wait to put Ex Nihilo in the ground once and for all so they could flush out KorTac wasn’t particularly helpful for team morale, but it meant that you didn’t need to worry about your lover getting shanked anymore. 

If you were being honest, you couldn’t help but feel he deserved it a little given it had been his bright idea to rile you up in the first place. That’s what you get for trying to show off in front of Ghost. However that didn’t mean you didn’t still worry for him, far from it. You were practically biting your tongue off whenever König would happen across your path. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you the love of your life aint in your chain of command Soap?”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

You snorted as Soap shot you a glare. He’d momentarily distracted himself from pinning Ghost only to end up rolled over and under the heavy frame of the Lieutenant - who he’d only just managed to hold down himself. His body landed on the ground with a thundering crash, and at the very same time he let out a small ‘oof’ you held your hands at your mouth and tried to hold back on the stream of laughter threatening to burst out. Not that that was any use, you were breaking in no time, squealing like a kid. Served him right for getting cocky. He’d been leaning hard into Ghost, his eyes level and lips caught in a ridiculous smirk. 

“Looks like the next rounds on you again, Johnny boy!” Ghost chuckled, releasing Soap before he snapped something.

“No! No, no, no, I call bullshit on that,” Soap huffed, jumping to his feet like a jack in the box. “The only reason you won was because that little dick couldn’t keep their mouth shut.”

Your fellow sergeant held an accusing finger up at you, his face going pink in anger. Sore loser. You gasped in mock offence then proceeded to shoot him your best puppy eyes and shrugged, perfecting a show of innocence that would make an angel weep. 

“Me?”

“Yes you! Love of your life’s not in your chain of command’,” he echoed, pitching your words up like a little girl. “Fuck off!”

“I don’t sound like that,” you sniggered, watching as his face got redder. “Don’t be a sore loser Soap.”

Soap hit the mat just shy of his thigh, pounding it as if it were a way to wage revenge, working himself up as you and Ghost continued to laugh like hyenas. 

Ghost eventually joined your side, he picked up the water bottle he’d abandoned by his workout gear and took a long gulp, huffing as he lowered the bottle back down. Ghost’s breathing was laboured and you could smell the sharp stench of sweat coming off of him in waves, apparently even with your intervention, that hadn’t been an easy victory. You knew that well enough yourself, you were only barely able to beat him sometimes, he’d earned his nickname just as much as you’d merited yours. 

“I almost had the bastard this time!” Soap huffed, slumping. “If it hadn’t a’ been for you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I’ll pay for it,” you offered, rising to your feet. “Given you both go get a shower, you guys fuckin’ stink.”

Soap smirked at that, his eyes regaining their lost spark as if he’d been given a jumpstart. You didn’t care for it. 

“Really? I don’t think I smell too bad,” Soap said, his voice taking on an edge again. “C’mere, let me make you really pay for it!”

“Wait, what are you- ew! No! Get away from me!” 

You squealed as Soap made a dash for you and hopped out the way from his grabbing arms, jumping away like a scared cricket. Unfortunately he was blocking the exit, forcing you into the corner of the room, keeping you on the edge of your toes while he held his arms up, torturing you with the threat of a hug. It took everything in you to keep track of where the mats were and not to slip on the shiny wooden floors, squeaking with every step you took as you frantically traversed the hall. 

“It’s just like you said Sneaky, can’t fraternise outside my rank. Guess that just leaves you!” He laughed, making another unsuccessful lunge at you. 

“I’m sure Gaz…is around here somewhere,” you said, breathing hard as you continued to duck and dive from him.

Despite Mactavish’s best efforts, you still managed to elude him. When he leapt for you, you strafed away and even when he’d successfully grab your arm, you’d break his hold before he could wrap you in his stinking death grip. 

You were so close to the exit now. You’d danced your way there, too busy walking backwards and throwing Soap off of your intentions that you were taken unawares when you backed into something solid where an empty doorway should’ve been. It was only when two familiar big hands drew round your frame to steady you, that you realised exactly who you’d bumped into. 

“Careful Sergeant,” König said, his voice surely thick with a grin. “I see training in the 141 is as rigorous as ever.”

You sigh, taking a cautious look over at Ghost who has his eyes locked on the offensive figure behind you. Even as Ghost stood there smelling like week old laundry he’d acted as if König had dragged putrid roadkill into the room and asked him to take a bite. 

“You wanna test how good our training is, König?” Soap barked, puffing his chest out like a cartoon gorilla.

You rolled your eyes.

“No thank you, I’m afraid I’d get terribly bored.”

“Funny,” Ghost said plainly, tilting his head. “Maybe we could find out how interesting you find us once you let go of Sneak. Could make sure those dirty mitts don’t linger too long again.”

You could feel his fingers dig into your skin, and with just a cursory glance up to the slits in König’s mask, you knew he hadn’t been meaning to clutch onto you for so long. Though, even in your haste to be subtle you didn’t miss the wink he gave you when he let you go, or the way his fingers brushed against you like falling silk. Clearly someone had been missing you. Probably as much as you’d missed him. 

“Apologies,” he’d said, not able to resist whispering after, “lucky for him he doesn’t know where these ‘mitts’ were last weekend.”

You choked on your next breath and turned so that your back was to the others before they could see your haunted expression. König was becoming a master of landing you in the shit. Even as you tried to glare at him, your paranoid mind wondered if they could see your body buzzing with worry. 

“Why are you here, König?” you asked, voice shaking with a hundred different emotions.

Even under the darkness of his full hood, König’s eyes sparkled with mischief and you didn’t miss the playful raise of his brows. He was continuing to wage war on you, even when you giving him the ‘stop fucking with me’ look. He was going to hear about that later. 

“Curiously enough, Price sent me. He wanted me to tell you to come to his office.”

Everyone’s breaths were collectively stolen from the room. 

“Price? Price asked you to talk to Sneak for him?” Soap said dubiously, first to ask before anyone else could.

You were too busy wondering if he’d figured something out. 

“Funny isn’t it?” König said, his gaze squarely fixed on you. “He was in a rush to sort something and unfortunately for him, I was the only one around. I think you’re being sent off on a mission.”

You didn’t miss the way his voice dropped in disappointment. If you were going away with Price then it was anyone’s guess how long you’d be away for. Last time he’d spirited away with Gaz he’d disappeared for days, and come back afterwards sagging like a melted ice cream. Whatever you’d be doing, it’d likely tire you out just as much and even if you were to come back through the weekend you’d likely be beat just the same. With that in mind, you knew it was unlikely you’d get to carry out your fun weekend plans with König. That meant it’d be a whole week’s wait until you got to meet with him again. 

Fuck.

“Oh…thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course. Can’t ignore an order from the Captain.”

The ‘unfortunately’ didn’t have to be said, it hung in the air between you two like black clouds of smoke. It took everything in you to ignore him from then on, turning instead to your things and stuffing them into your pockets. Your ears burned as they traced his footsteps fading from the doorway, and your chest grew heavy knowing you’d be missing him like hell until you could see him again. 

“Fancy that, Price going against his own orders,” Ghost said, folding his bulging arms over his chest. 

Always looking for a fight. 

“Fuck, probably didn’t even ask that cunt. The thing probably ate the guy that was actually supposed to come get Sneak,” Soap sniggered, finally emerging from his huff.

Oh yeah, they’d taken to calling König names now as well. They particularly enjoyed comparing him to a horrific bug monster which, even as childish as that was, was a little entertaining to you given you knew how much he hated that particular film when you’d tried to show it to him. He didn’t care for monster flicks. 

“I don’t think he’d lie,” you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Really? I think he’d stab his own mother just to get a giggle,” Ghost snorted.

Clearly you don't know him very well. You laughed even in spite of knowing that what your Lieutenant said wasn’t remotely true, maybe even because you knew how ridiculous it was. They had a lot of fun making him out to be a raging sadist when as far as they were aware he’d done no worse than them on the field. König would stab himself before a hair on his mothers head came to harm, he practically gave half his wage just to make sure she ate well every month. 

“Maybe. Even so, I better go see what Price wants. Must be deadly urgent if he was desperate enough to send König,” you said, heading back toward the exit. 

“True. Sure you don’t want a reassuring hug before you go?” Soap asked, making a move like he’d come bounding up to you.

“Nope! Not even if this is the job I die on,” you called, speed walking down the corridor before he got any bright ideas. 

-☠️-

Just as König had said, you ended up pulled away with Price on reconnaissance. Now, while you’d much rather have been curled up in a hotel room with König and living out your lazy weekend plans, it turned out being away wasn’t all that bad. For one thing, Price was practically his old self with you again and for another it was good to get away from the rest of the 141. 

Constantly having to listen to them verbally disassemble the man that you were secretly in love with was a lot and it took everything not to sit there and defend him sometimes. Even then that would just result in an uproar about how you let people treat you. At that point you’d take Price’s steady quiet presence and occasional rumbles about coffee and football anyday. 

“You seeing anything Sneaky?”

Price’s hushed voice crackled over your comms, the tiny earpiece was flooding with interference from the busy market. Crowds of people swarmed and overflowing stalls that were bursting with goods, with salesmen boasting about their produce and wares like it was the last day on earth to buy anything. The heat beat down on your back and your outfit did little to help with the glaring sun, one of the pitfalls of wearing baggy clothing to conceal weapons. Your scent mingled with the rest of the sweltering bodies that bumped your sides and moved around you, but most of all you scented the rich foods and the old antiques that filled the stalls. Your senses were going wild, overstimulated to the max. 

“Not a fuckin’ thing,” you finally muttered.

You’d been sent out to intercept a meeting between two Ex Nihlio members, according to intel gathered from KorTac earlier in the week they were supposed to meet by one of the spice stalls. It was your job to route them out and figure out if they knew anything about Rousseau’s whereabouts. Only issue was that you were drowning in spice stalls. Both you and Price had taken turns dressing up like tourists with your big nikon cameras and neon bags and were playing a game of spot the terrorist cell with only a prayer that you hadn’t already missed them. 

Price was taking his turn up on the roof, nestled conveniently in a skillion like a bird of prey about to strike, watching and waiting with his binoculars up and gun at the ready. You felt safe knowing he was with you, his mumbled words of reassurance kept you sane as you traversed the labyrinthian pathways over and over and had to pretend to take an interest in various trinkets. 

However, you’d been on the streets for a couple hours now, you knew that soon enough you’d have to swap again and it’d be your turn to play sniper on the roof. That was - If your aching feet were anything to go by. You sighed and took a look around, deciding to do one last sweep around the stalls before you joined Price and relieved him of his position. 

“Hold on Sneak, turn around - don’t be obvious,” Price said, voice coming in low and grizzled from disuse. 

You froze in your spot and swallowed, committing yourself to your new task, taking a moment to look through your pockets before palming a warm penny. With a fake gasp, you sent it rolling behind you and leaned down, walking a few paces so that you could retrieve the penny off the ground while looking around for the source of Price’s interruption. When you looked up to the row of stalls across from you, you saw what he’d tipped you off on.

“Try to get in close.”

Situated next to an array of autumn coloured spice piles, were two men wearing dark shirts and trousers, talking hushedly to one another. While you couldn’t be absolutely sure that they were Ex Nihlio, you knew that it didn’t look like they were there to shop. You glanced away from them for a moment and set your sights on a curio stall next to them, stepping almost silently over the gritty path until you reached your target.

Their voices were low, coming in softer than a light breeze, but still you managed to catch a little of what they were saying and you knew the receiver would too. You tilted your head toward them, trying to give Price the best chance of hearing them too; all while you picked up a tiny bird figure barely bigger than one of your digits and held it to your eyes. You softly ran your fingers over the wood like you might bring it to life somehow and turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully - it was important to make your fascination with the object look convincing. 

“Your orders are clear, you are not allowed to move forward.”

“But we have everything in place, we’re ready! I don’t understand.”

The men were tense, their voices strained as they endeavoured to stay quiet. 

“We have to be more reserved now. Ever since…he was taken and the tourists were found, things have been different. Plan’s changed.”

“What! because his-”

“Quiet! Not another word. This visit in itself was a courtesy only extended to you, we’ve had to stop everything we had planned, things have changed.”

“I don’t accept that. We have to keep the momentum going or we won’t be taken seriously.” 

You breathed out quietly, watching as the stall owner started approaching you and you let a smile melt onto your face, trying to keep up the dumb tourist charade. The woman looked keen as she approached, face reminiscent of a fox’s with her eager golden eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were curved into a grin and she hunched over the counter tactically surveying her eyes over your form. She was probably anticipating someone stupid, someone that could be easily fleeced. 

“It’s a nice statue isn’t it? Are you interested in buying?”

“Uh, yeah I think so, it’s really cute,” you said with a short unsure laugh, trying to keep your voice low enough for Price to hear over. “How much is it though?”

Regrettably for her you weren’t going to be the easy mark that she’d assessed you as. Nevertheless, you still hoped to god she wasn’t going to ask for too much. You’d figured before setting out that you needed to buy some stuff so that you could blend in, but you hadn’t brought an awful lot and you’d already gotten some pastries and drink with the paltry change. Plus the little swallow, for all its tiny size, was very detailed, it’s little carved tail and wing feathers and dark wood would surely drive the cost up. Then there was also the fact that there was no way you’d be able to just accept the given price, you’d have to negotiate so that you had a reason for sticking around. 

While you desperately strained to try and hear the argument ensuing between the two men next to you, you weakly haggled with the woman giving her numbers that her lips upturned like a direly unamused theatre mask. Eventually though you both reached an agreement and the little figure was yours, but now you had to work out your next move. 

“‘We are from nothing, and we will fight each day until they can never reduce our names to the dirt again’- remember when that was our calling? Remember when we committed to a cause that day, does that mean nothing to you? We must act now!”

“It must mean nothing to you, if you are willing to risk everything just for a moment of glory.”

You didn’t have to struggle to blend in much longer. 

A loud shot rang out above the swathes of people around you and suddenly the entire market descended into chaos and terror, people ran and screamed and hid; fleeing like pigeons. You looked over to where the two men had been and saw only one now as he rushed away into the crowd while the other lay dead and bloody on the ground. The man’s pupils were tiny pin pricks staring emptily into the glaring sun, all life torn from the deserted vessel of his body. He’d gone back to nothing after all. 

“Price, I'm going after him.”

You tore your eyes from the dead man and chased after his killer, trying desperately to catch up as he faded into the crowds. You weaved and ducked, trying to remain discreet even still as you traced his path and took advantage of the wake he left in the crowd. He was like a speedboat tearing through choppy seas, disgruntled people were pushed to the side and made to move as he bulldozed through and gave you plenty of opportunity to follow. 

“You need to stop, Sneak. We don’t know if he has friends hiding around the area! Do you hear me? Stop! Sneak, how copy?”

Price was too late. You’d collided with the man already, strategically shoving him into an alleyway and underneath your body. You both breathed hard, groaning as your knees and his back made contact with the hard ground, but neither of you could afford to feel it for long. He fought his way up, reaching for a knife he’d stowed in a thigh pocket and attempted to plunge it into you before you disarmed him, smashing his wrist against the wall and pounding it with your other. 

“I got him pinned down, we’re in the alley a few streets up, he’s fighting back pretty hard,” you growled, thoroughly out of breath from trying to subdue the squirming screaming man. 

“That’s not what I ordered!”

“Well what are my orders now?” you asked, gritting your teeth as you punched the man, narrowly missing being hit first. 

Price didn’t speak for a beat, the silence was tense as you fought to subdue your target, filled with your gasping breaths and struggling bodies scraping against the grit like sandpaper. You could practically feel the steam that was pouring from Price’s ears coming in through the earpiece, sweat was pooling all over your body, exertion and heat were kicking in. After a moment, your captain finally responded through gritted teeth, his voice crackling all the more as you realised that he was on the move. 

“Coming to you now. Hold him there.”

Easier said than done. You felt like a bull rider as you bucked around on top of the stranger trying to subdue his movements with as little force as possible. While it was important to make sure he was kept down and kept quiet, you couldn’t do too much damage or it was worthless even stopping him in the first place. Clearly this man was in contact with Rousseau or at least someone very close to him, so it was of the utmost importance that you brought him in lucid and ready to spill. Or rather spill after some convincing, the look in his eye was that of a man that wouldn’t give you any satisfaction for nothing. 

His teeth were bared at you like an animal, one of them metallic and glinting in the sliver of light that emerged through the darkness. His eyes were wild like a feral lion. There was something about his face that terrified you in that moment, the sheer determination to kill you, the will of a man with conviction in his cause to tear you down. You had the upper hand though, finally you’d been able to reach the pistol you’d secreted away at your side and pulled it on him, holding it against him with a soundless ultimatum. 

“Get the fuck off me! I’ll have your eyes for this, fucking scum!”

The man ranted and screamed, but even still you weren’t deterred from your task. You kept him pinned down with the gun snug at his temple, praying that Price would be there soon. Luck wasn’t on your side that day though, rarely ever was, suddenly you were sailing onto your back. Stars filled your vision, light melting as the sky faded far away. It was somewhat reminiscent of what you’d seen happen days before, Ghost on top of Soap after his failed victory, Soap stuck to the ground like a monkey under a tigers paw. 

“Are you alright?” a voice asked.

Someone that you didn’t recognise, an accent you couldn’t place. 

“I’ll be fine! Finish them off and let’s go,” your target responded.

You winced, expecting that to be your final moment, the last thing you ever heard was a dismissal of your efforts. Through the murky darkness two eyes flashed through your head, two crystalline pools that opened like planets in the empty space of your mind. In your mind, König looked back on you smiling, his watchful gaze always reminding you of an angel while he loomed over you, bare chested and warm just like he’d been at the hotel.

Had that been your last though you would’ve died happy, you decided. 

Though you weren’t going to die that day, not yet. Another gunshot blasted through the atmosphere, ricocheting in your ears, but as you were still around to hear it and you weren't lying there in blinding pain - well not any more than you’d felt before the gun fired - you deduced the man had missed. Instead another man’s scream rang out and a flurry of footprints followed, scraping to get away. 

You opened your eyes, finally able to see again, but felt blinding pain replace your stolen vision. It coursed through your skull and rattled through your back, making you hiss as you sat up and stradied yourself on your scraped up hands. Colours and shapes swelled and swirled before your eyes before condensing and becoming clear. Price took form in front of you seconds later, his hands tight on your shoulders as he grabbed you and gave you a look over, running his hand gently over your head as if you were his child. 

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he muttered, eyes narrowing harshly as he realised you were ok. “You had no idea who else was there and wouldn’t you know it - who should show up, but one of his little friends”

“I…I already had him before you said to let him go,” you groaned, blinking furiously as you tried not to let the darkness at the edge of your vision take over.

“Is that right? Well, well done to you and your fucking initiative,” he groaned, “Look at you, you look like you’re going to fall apart. Are you ok, can you see?”

“Feels like it too,” you said, smiling weakly. “I can see, things just got hazy for a second there…Did you send the rest of the team after them?”

Price rolled his eyes, the bags under them looking pinched as he kept looking you over. Another group of soldiers had been kept on standby, ready to swoop in and drive you and whoever you might capture, but it didn’t look like Price was thinking of them then. He was focused on you, kneeling across from you and surveying for any changes. He let go of your shoulders, instead propping you up against an old crate that sat abandoned in the alley. 

“Course I sent them,” he said eventually. “Don’t think they’ll catch up though.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the full weight of the blow to your head.

“How bad’s the wound?” you asked, wincing as your fingers came away from it with blood. 

“Not bad. Not good either though,” Price deadpanned. “I’ll walk you out of here in a minute. I just want to make sure you’re going to stay awake.”

“Walk? You mean we can’t call an Uber?”

Price didn’t see the funny side of your joke, he shook his head and ran a hand through his beard, taking extra time to scratch as he reached the thicker sides. He was deep in thought, trying to process what had happened, and work out where to go from there. There was a look in his eyes he always got when he was catastrophizing, and you could tell he was in full crisis mode. His steady hands and stiff posture only served to throw off people that didn’t know him well enough. 

“What is it?”

“Two of em’ have seen your face now.”

You had already thought of that. 

“I know,” you said quietly, finally looking away from him. 

Neither of you said anything else for a second. You focused in on the crowd behind you instead, the people that still rushed through the streets trying to avoid a silent threat that had already run far from their paths. Their voices and scampering feet echoed and danced through the alleyway, distracting you from your pain for a moment. Thought still coursed through you in the background, remained swirling through your body like a snake constricting around your brain and back.

“We need to get you out of here and get you to a medic.”

You nodded, you wouldn’t fight him on that. A medic would have pain killers. You tried to rise on your own, gripping the rough wooden crate like a lifeline, but found yourself almost collapsing again until Price rushed to your side and held you up, grunting as he bore your weight. Through the vignette of your fading vision you could see the tight lipped grimace he was giving you and knew you were probably sporting a similar look of your own. 

“Don’t try to move on your own, let me help you,” Price growled.

“You gonna carry me all the way back to car?” you asked sceptically, remembering how far you had to go. 

“Can’t bloody well leave you. We don’t know if that bastard’s got more friends hanging around.”

“You could stick me in another alley and bring the car closer?” you asked, already knowing what his answer would be, 

“Not a chance. C’mon, get moving those feet. That’s an order!”

Stubborn. 

You grit your teeth and felt the pain shoot through your back and curl up in your stomach as you moved. You knew you hadn’t broken anything, but you were still feeling the effects of getting winded and the weeping head wound wasn’t helping matters either. Bile rose in your throat at the thought and even as Price kept his arm slung tightly round you, you felt your feet waver and drag across the ground, felt your mind struggling to keep going as your body began to give up. 

“Talk to me. Don’t give out on me now,” Price demanded, his breaths coming out punchy like wind hitting a sail. 

“Talk about what?” you laughed, wincing with the movement.

“Anything. Keep yourself focused, talk about anything.”

“Ok,” you conceded, thinking for a moment as you were dragged through an empty street. “Why’d you send König to come get me the other day?”

“Really? That’s all you could think of?” Price scoffed.

You were in too much pain to feel any shame or hesitation about pushing. In fact, it was the perfect time to bring up König because there weren’t going to be many other chances for you to leverage a head wound to discuss the subject. It was the perfect thing to direct your energy on and keep you upright. 

“You’re the one that told me I wasn’t to speak to him again,” you said measuredly. “It made me wonder why you’d send him to speak to me.”

“He was the only one around and the General wanted us gone ASAP.”

“You could’ve messaged.”

“I needed to make sure you knew to come right away.”

“Are you saying I’m not reliable?” you grinned, almost tripping on a fallen basket because you were so pleased with yourself.  

You and Price stopped just before your feet could stumble over the fallen produce and rerouted around it, huffing with exertion. Price’s back was sweating just as much as yours and once again you found yourself cursing at the sun, vowing that you would never spend another minute more in the heat if it meant you could be sent to a cold room with a full deck of meds ready at your disposal. 

“If you really want to know, I figured I could trust you now,” Price said, readjusting his grip on you. “After all that's happened.”

“Oh really?”

“Well you wouldn’t want to go near him now after what happened would you?” 

You had to hold back a bout of laughter, disguising it easily with a cough. If only he knew.

“Suppose not,” you answered.

“It’s better that way…associating with a man like that, you’d only end up at the top of someone’s shit list.”

“You think he’s got enemies?” 

“Why else do men like Ghost and König wear masks?” he huffed. “You’d be vulnerable with him, even if he is a one man army. He couldn't protect you if the people he’d pissed off came after you.” 

You pursed your lips and looked toward the end of the street, sighing as you remembered the car wasn’t that far away. The last thing you needed when you were trying not to go wobbly was Price making you doubt König. Instead you faced forward and kept on marching, narrowing your eyes as you fought off the darkness. 

-☠️- 

“Are you absolutely sure that you like wearing that shirt?”

You laughed as König hovered above you, pausing in his assault on your neck so that he could play with the hem at your neckline. His hemline rather. 

“You said you wanted to look after me this week, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but not at the expense of my only clothing,” he said, smiling at you with narrowed eyes.

You rolled your eyes at him and kissed him, planting your lips firmly on his so as to silence his protests. All was right in the world again. You’d been dismissed for a week because of your head wound, something about you having suffered from a concussion before so you were being forced to take leave and had decided to spend your time wisely. In other words, telling Price you were going to visit family, when in actuality you were shacked up in an airbnb close to the base so that König could come visit you and stay the night. 

Eventually he broke away from you and shook his head, rolling off the bed and causing an earthquake, causing the springs to groan and for the mattress to shake like jelly beneath you. You watched him as he stood and stretched. His body illuminated by the streetlamps outside the windows, the dull yellow contrasting harshly with the dark blue shadows that snaked over his taut muscles, meeting like intertwined fingers at his ribs.

“Is it because it's the Rammstein one?” you asked, sitting up to admire him easier. “Because I’m taking good care of it.”

He shook his head again and made his way to the door. 

“I know you’re taking good care of it. I just don’t have a lot of shirts to wear,” he explained, disappearing for a moment. 

You huffed and folded your arms, obscuring the blocky logo in the tangle of your intertwined limbs. The guilt trip wasn’t going to work, this was your shirt. You felt like you’d earned it after you’d forgotten home comforts and stayed in a stranger’s house all to be with him. Not that he wasn’t taking fantastic care of you. 

You watched as he came back in with a couple glasses of water and set them down on each of your respective bedside tables and disappeared again so he could grab two bowls, walking in with steam obscuring his face. You unfolded your arms, forgetting all about your upset and took in what he’d brought you. He’d heated some soup for you both and ensured that you were propped up nicely before placing yours in your lap, joining you at your side so that he could eat his. The smell of parmesan and vegetables drifted into the air, forcing your stomach to growl in anticipation. 

“Thank you, König,” you hummed.

The soup was delicious. It was unmistakably from the Italian deli that König knew you liked to frequent as a treat and you’d deduced he must’ve been earlier in the day to pick up a takeaway just for you. Even if he were being a stickler about his clothes, he still remained sweet and ensured you had every little comfort you could want for while you recovered.

Truth was, you hadn’t really felt that bad once you’d been patched up and given a few Codeine. The pain in your head had dulled to a low thud and more than anything it was background noise to the host of other complaints you could make about your battle torn body. Though König wouldn’t hear of it. He demanded that you stay in bed as he fussed around you and cuddled you like a sickly kitten. It was a wonder you were allowed to even roam the apartment by yourself with the way he coddled you, a miracle you weren’t wrapped in cotton wool and shrunk into his pocket for safe keeping. 

“Why is it that you’d want to wear one of my dirty shirts anyway?” König asked, breaking the silence.

You snorted, only just swallowing the spoonful of soup you’d taken and shrugged, a coy smile weaving its way onto your face. 

“It smells like you. Makes me feel safe,” you said finally, only a smidge embarrassed.

“And what do I smell like?”

“I dunno…just like you,” you shrugged. “Manly I guess, and I can smell that stupid cheap citrusy soap you use.”

“Don’t belittle my soap just because you like to buy the best,” he retorted. 

“That’s right, practicality over frivolity…How German,” you said with a sly smile. 

He froze mid spoonful, just about to eat another before he paused and shot you a withering side eye. You’d delighted in finding out another way to tease him, getting to play with him all you wanted while you recovered. 

“You call me German one more time, I’m taking the shirt off your back and leaving you naked to fend for yourself,” he said simply

“Oh c’mon, you’d never do that.”

“I just might,” he smiled, taking his last spoonful and letting the cutlery clatter to the empty bowl. “You know the difference.”

“In fairness you did live there for quite a while until you moved back again.”

“Yeah, and that's an even better reason for me to enjoy being Austrian.”

“Such a mean man, poor Germany!”

You playfully shoved at his thigh with your foot and giggled when he caught it in his hand and threw it back. It sent you both laughing and soon you abandoned your soup bowl onto the table and took your little game to the next level, diving onto him before you were promptly flipped onto your back and pinned under König, resuming your usual position.

“Poor Sneak,” he laughed ominously. “Still hellbent on defending the Germans?”

“If I say yes are you gonna do that thing I hate?”

“Only one way to know for sure.”

You huffed out a breath and weighed up your options, deciding if it was really worth being tickled just to keep teasing him. In the end, you didn’t get to decide, you winced as you felt a firework of pain burst through your head and closed your eyes for a second, bunching them shut like you could forget about it behind the darkness of your closed lids. Suddenly you were grateful you were lying down surrounded by the soft topaz sheets. 

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” König gasped, stroking his thumb over your cheek. 

“I’m alright, it wasn’t anything you did,” you assured after a second, taking in a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to take my meds actually. Is it after eight thirty?”

König leaned up from you and rooted around for his phone. You prayed you were right. 

“Yeah, Eight forty. If you sit up, I’ll get them out for you.”

You followed through with his request, inching up the covers and seething with every little jarring shake the bed gave you. It felt like your head was going to burst into a confetti cloud with the amount of pressure that was building. You couldn’t wait till the headaches were done with. 

“Here, take these,” König murmured, handing you the pills and your forgotten glass of water.

You threw them back and drank down a big gulp of water, focusing on not choking as you swallowed them as fast as you could. This was one of the worst pains you’d had with it since it’d happened. Stars twinkled at the edge of your vision until slowly, after a little breathing and König stroking your back, you were able to open your eyes and stare back him as he watched you those big doleful eyes of his. 

“I’m alright now, it’s ok,” you smiled, trying to reassure him. 

“Mm, it’s far from ok,” König hissed, staring harshly to his side for a moment. “If I ever get my hands on those who did this to you, they’ll be sorry.”

You widened your eyes a moment as his fury sunk in and both of you stared at each other for a tense minute. You sat hoping your understanding of the situation might be infectious, wishing he’d accept that they’d just gotten the upper hand. What happened wasn’t personal. He shook his head and let the heat escape him, the fire left his eyes and deflated him, leaving him staring down at the bed a moment until you spoke again. 

“I know how I’d feel if it were the other way around,” you sighed, knowing he’d need a little reassurance you weren’t going to run terrified. “But you don’t need to be angry for me. I’m fine, this’ll all be better in a few days, ok?”

He didn’t speak for a second, not until he looked back up at you. 

“Ok.”

“Good. Now, c’mere and give me a hug so I feel better.”

His smile returned, curving back onto his lips like magic. You smiled in turn and watched as he put your meds back in the drawer by your bedside, but frowned when he paused and stared inside. He chucked the foil packet back in its place but reached in and retrieved whatever had caught his attention, bringing it front of you in the palm of his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously. 

You tilted your head and smiled as you realised it was the wooden swallow you’d unpacked from your bag earlier and shrugged. 

“It was the bird I got from the market that day,” you explained. “I found it when I was going through my bag today and chucked it in the drawer.”

He raised his brows and brought the little figure closer to his face, admiring the fine details of it not dissimilarly to the way you’d stared at it in the market. You tilted your head as you watched him and bit your lip, watching the way his eyes took in the little bird with an intense fascination. 

“Why don’t you keep it?” you offered. “And then you let me wear this for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your shoulders, showing that you wanted to keep the shirt. König chuckled, but after pretending to be deep in thought about it, sporting a deep frown and a pursed lip, he eventually nodded. 

“I suppose I could allow that… we can have shared custody. I get the bird one week and then the shirt for the next,” he said, coming to rest by your side with his arm outstretched, making the bird fly in looping patterns in the air. “Deal?”

You laughed to yourself, but nodded, settling into his warm chest with a satisfied sigh. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Next Part Here

[brittle-doughie]

Looking into The Holiday Express Update for CRK!

Jesus Christ, did this update already receive its bit of backlash for this being a “mystery on a train” story that lacks the little detective herself

Rest in peace, in peace Walnut Cookie. It is not your time yet.

The train station is getting a new look for the holidays! It’s about time it gets a moment of attention!

Stardust getting another skin is iffy, but I adore Milky Way’s and Space Doughnut’s costumes! They’re Special rarity however, so you might have to make it a priority to get all three of them before they’re gone!

The Story Tickets are pretty self-explanatory, but First Class Tickets are possibly just for Hard Mode. This story is NOT a Special Episode by the way, so make sure you have the whole story done for the records before the event is over

Oof, he’s not going to be spared from the fandom’s ire about him being another twink

Old Jolly has been got. This seems like a job for one cookie, but she doesn’t seem to be around right now. Such a shame. Oh hey, Almond Cookie.

The big score for me, Linzer Cookie. I’m already seeing you lads wanting her to be evil or be akin to Affogato. Come on now, didn’t we just have Affogato 2 two updates ago lol. Her event runs similarly to Twizzly, which is especially humorous since Linzer shares her VA.

Can we get Frost Queen a costume now please?

The event itself could be fun, I’m curious to see how it goes and hopefully the fandom eases up on these two for not being Roguefort or Walnut.

———————————————————————

You took it upon yourself to try and figure out the culprit among the passengers, if only Almond Cookie were here on the train with you, things would probably go smoother with an extra set of hands and eyes on the scene.

Some of the passengers…might have gotten a little carried away when they see it’s you leading the investigation.

Creme Brulee Cookie: I will do my best to help you with the investigation..but first, I want you to listen to a song of mine, one I haven’t let anyone else hear yet. It will be for your listening only…

Linzer Cookie: What an interesting turn~ The handsome/beautiful upcoming detective approaching the mysterious, but star novelist for their first step in the mystery~! Will this novelist be able to aid the detective? Do these two have a connection to each other? Could love even bloom between the two~?

(You had…barely started to ask her things before Linzer buried her head in her notebook, writing away as she maintained eye contact with the you)

[veethefreeelf]

Hello, I was wondering if I could make a request for jeonghannie 😢😢, how would he react to seeing you breastfeed your baby in front of him? And then he just wants to have sex and suck your tits like the baby 😢😢

Sorry Anon for 2 things. One, I took forever with this request and two, I might have gotten carried away (2.5K words, yikes). Anyway hope you enjoy it ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ�� Also big thanks to @leejihoonownsmyheart for giving me the courage to post this CHEERS 🥂

You’ve always wondered if you would be a good mother. Not because your childhood was bad, but because you never saw yourself as such a figure in anyone’s life. You were always the baby of all your friend groups and it took you quite some time to consider yourself an actual adult and not just an overgrown kid. 

Now, looking at the little angel in your arms, you find yourself wondering how you could ever have had such a thought. Sure, she just barely came out of you but overall, things have been pretty smooth. You have the instincts down but what you have better than anything else is the person whose eyes are looking at you two with so much adoration that you could just crumble right then and there.

“Well… Are you just going to sit there and stare at us?” you asked teasingly.

“If I could help I would angel, but pretty sure breastfeeding is going to be an ‘only you’ task” he said as he smirked. You smiled at each other and as you continued feeding your little angel you looked back at your relationship with him.

Yoon Jeonghan. Before you met him, you never had been one to settle down. You had been in relationships sure, but nothing that had lasted more than 6 months max. You always ended up realizing the person in front of you just wasn’t your forever person and you had to move on. At one point, you even considered the fact that maybe you just weren’t built for love. Well, romantic love, you knew when it came to your friends and family, you loved fiercely and unconditionally, however, when it came to romantic relationships, things just… fizzled down and you always ended up realizing you had never felt true love before.

But boy did that all change when you met him. You were crazy about him from the very beginning and you tried to keep him away to try and protect your fragile heart. But he was having none of it and kept breaking through your walls with ease and he did it consistently and with purpose, because what you didn’t know was that he had been just as crazy for you as you were for him, since the very beginning. 

Five years later and looking at the little family you two have built, you find it funny how you could have ever had such ridiculous thoughts about yourself and how you could ever have doubted him. 

And, at this moment, after five years of knowing Jeonghan, he still manages to surprise you with the next sentence that comes out of his mouth while staring at his perfect girls. 

“So, baby, when is it my turn?” he asked with such a shit eating grin. You lifted your head and stared at him. His eyes had that familiar spark they usually have when he wants to absolutely wreck you, and he is darting his beautiful orbs between your eyes and your breasts where your baby girl is currently finishing up her meal. 

Once you realize what he means, you start laughing and ask him “Do I look like an open buffet to you, Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Hmm… You do look like a five-course meal, angel” he teases.

“Wow… That was incredibly cheesy even for you, Hannie. Oof… I think you might be losing your spice, baby” you teased.

“Losing my spice, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that later tonight won’t we, angel?” he said as he crossed the room to you.

He kissed you in your temple and held your baby girls’ hand and said “When she’s done with her dinner, I’ll get her to sleep, angel. You can go and do your night time routine, yeah? Look nice and pretty for me, hmm?”

You knew exactly what he meant and you swallowed hard. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him before but also, who are you kidding? You want this as bad as he does.

Once your baby girl was done, he picked her up to have their own bonding time as he always puts it. Jeonghan is the proudest when it comes to bonding time with his daughter and he takes it very seriously. He always makes sure to be the one to get her to sleep and, on nights where he can’t be present, it always eats away at him and he feels incredibly guilty for missing out on his baby girl’s bedtime.

You go through your night routine (shower, lots of skincare, lots of hair care) and you are now standing in front of your closet wondering what kind of night this will be.

Is it a normal underwear kind of night? Is it a lingerie kind of night? Or maybe a Hannie shirt and nothing underneath kind of night? You choose the latter. From the look in his eyes earlier, this calls for the option that will make him the craziest for you, and he has always said, there’s nothing better in this world than looking at you wearing just his clothes and nothing else. A possessive little thing he is, but in the best of ways.

You go to bed waiting for him but you find yourself so tired that you start to doze off. Later, you wake up to his lips on you. He feels so warm and he is kissing you so delicately, you think you might still be dreaming.

“Sorry, angel. Baby girl took longer than usual to fall asleep. Hmm… I was just going to let you sleep but I got here and you’re in my shirt and smelling so heavenly, I couldn’t help myself” he said as he continued kissing down your neck and climbing on top of you. 

“Hannie…” you moaned.

“Yeah, angel. You want me to continue or you want me to let you sleep? Your choice, baby, but choose now before I go insane” he says leaning his forehead in yours.

“Want you, Hannie. Don’t stop, please” you whispered. 

He sat back on his knees and took his shirt off. You kept staring at him and wondering how you even got this fucking lucky. You’d have to pray to all the gods and the universe tomorrow.

“Angel, you can’t look at me like that. With those innocent eyes when I know that what’s going on behind them is not even close to being innocent”. 

You sit up and start kissing him. Properly, taking your time. It feels like ages ago since you last just sat and kissed like this. Deeply, so profound that you forget everything else around you. You then start kissing down his neck as he starts massaging your breasts. You stop for a bit and he senses your hesitation. 

“What do you think, angel? Is it my turn now?” he asks, looking you in the eyes as he keeps caressing your breast with one hand and holds your face with the other. 

“What… What if it… You know… Comes out?” you asked in such a low voice you almost sounded like a scared child. 

“Angel, you’re my wife. The mother of my child. You are my whole world. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is the most natural thing in the world and I want you so fucking bad. I want them” he says while massaging your breasts now with both hands.

“I want them so bad. I’ve tried hinting at it before but I didn’t know if you were ignoring it or if you weren’t getting the hint. But I want all of you. You know how sexy it is that you carried my child? That you brought our baby into this world? Fuck, everytime I think about it, it drives me fucking insane” he says while leaning his forehead in yours.

“Hmm… Mommy kink, Hannie?” you say, now smiling.

“More like a You kink, angel. Everything about You, always” and before you can tease him again about that line, he starts kissing you, taking your (well, his) shirt off of you and, in no time, you are in the position you were in when this all started.

He is kissing down your neck and his fingers are moving closer and closer to where you desperately want him to be. He kisses your chest, just below your collarbones and he starts running his fingers through your folds.

“Fuck… You are so wet, angel… It seems I’m not the only one wanting to try this huh?” he says in such a cocky way. You wish you had the strength to tease him back but you are getting way too desperate for his touch.

“It’s you, Hannie… The way you talk about me… About this… Fuck, please, keep going” you are now whining and getting more and more desperate.

As he starts slowly touching your clit, he moves his mouth and his free hand to your breasts. He quickly latches his mouth on one of your nipples and starts kissing it, devouring it. He’s making such sloppy noises, if it was anyone else in the world you would be so fucking embarrased but he keeps humming and moaning as he suckles and makes out with your tit.

You find yourself getting closer and closer, the fire in your core is igniting fast, too fast for your liking.

“Hannie. Hannie. I’m.. I’m close. Slow.. Slow down, please” you pant, barely making sense. He then pushes one finger… Then a second finger into your pussy and keeps reaching into that one spot inside you that makes your mind go completely blank.

“Shhh, let go, angel. Fuck, I can feel your cunt squeezing around my fingers, you’re dripping on me. Just let go, I got you” he whispers while still latched to your nipple and staring you in the eyes. 

He kept going, getting sloppier, getting louder and staring at you like you are the most precious piece of art. His fingers have set the right pace and he has his thumb circling your clit with just the right pressure. Everything sounds so filthy and it’s what pushes you over the edge with a moan of his name.

He helps you come down from your high and is now kissing you all over your face and whispering “good girl. You were so good for me. I love you so much”. When you are back down on earth, you start kissing him back and you can feel just how hard he is. It must be painful at this point. He’s practically humping you and moaning praises while kissing you. You reach down to palm him through his (still very on) pants and you start massaging his cock.

“Hannie… You’re so hard, baby. Get those clothes off and get inside me. I can’t wait anymore…” you whispered in his ear between kisses.

He groans and quickly strips down. He’s now sitting back on his heels in the bed with you between your legs and he pushes your legs open. As open as they can be and he starts staring at you while running his hand through your leg. He takes his other hand and starts stroking his cock while staring down at you.

“Fuck, angel. One of these days, you’ll kill me. Look at you, all fucked out from me sucking your tit and touching you. I’ve barely started with you and you’re already so wrecked” he keeps stroking himself and staring at you. You lick your lips and start pouting.

“Hannie… You can make yourself come on me any other day, but tonight, please, fuck me. I need you inside of me, so bad” you say in your best innocent voice that you know drives him crazy.

“You sure you’re ready for me, angel? Don’t want to overwhelm you” he says. Then two things run through your mind. One: he looks like he wants to fucking wreck you but he is still giving you the option to stop him since he knows that after the birth of your girl you both have been very careful and well, for lack of a better world, vanilla in bed due to doctor’s orders and some of your fears. And two: you are the luckiest woman alive.

“Please, Hannie. I’m ready, I’m so ready. I need you now. I need everything. I’ll give you everything” you moan while staring back at him so he knows that you fucking mean it.

He leans over you, kisses you deeply, tells you he loves you and starts rubbing the tip of his cock on your pussy. He holds your hand above your head and stares into your eyes as he pushes himself into you, finally. You’re both panting and giggling and kissing, like teenagers. 

At first, he starts slow. Long, well-timed strokes. Holding your hand and your hip in position, making sure your legs stay as open as possible for him.

“Faster, Hannie. I’m not gonna break. Please” you moan. 

“Hmm.. My angel wants to get fucked hard, huh? Seems like my angel is a little slut tonight, isn’t she?” he said as he started speeding up and fucking you harder and harder and you moan louder and louder.

He slaps your thigh. “I need words, slut. Fucking tell me what you want. Tell Hannie what you want”.

“Fuck… Hannie… I‘m a slut tonight. Your slut… Please…” you said, completely and already fucked out of your mind.

“Shit… That’s right… Mine… All fucking mine” he says and groans. He’s getting closer and so are you.

He removes your hand from his and grabs on to your tit while his other hand is now rubbing circles on your clit. He starts sucking on your tit that he overlooked earlier tonight and keeps massaging the other. He starts rubbing your nipple and making out with your other tit and nipple. Again, getting sloppy, making the most obscene sounds. 

He senses you’re close. He knows, he can tell by the way you are moaning, by the look in your eyes and by the way your pussy is squeezing his cock. He’s not going to last much longer either, not like this and he goes in for the kill.

“Is my angel close? I know you are, I can feel it. Fuck… I’m right behind you” he speeds up, latches back on to your nipple and for the final blow, he slightly bites down on it and that’s when everything erupts. You come with a cry of his name. You’re shaking and panting and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so pure and beautiful.

He comes then with a groan and keeps whispering ‘I love you’ over and over again.

You just lay there together, you don’t know for how long. You’re holding him, one hand running through his hair and another running up and down his back. He lifts his head and looks at you. He then surprises you again with what comes out of his mouth.

“I knew you were gonna love that. You’re tits have always been so sensitive, specially your nipples, angel” he starts laughing against your neck.

“I guess it’s an open buffet after all” you said and you both burst into laughter still tangled together.

[inciting-chaos-series]

j can you please make a corpse x reader where they are both publicly dating and as all internet couples do, get a fair amount of hate. but one day a specific comment gets under the readers skin so they distance themselves from corpse (lots of angst but with a good ending ?)

I'm sorry this took forever, I couldn't get my meds and went a lil crazy agh, also idk if this is any good tbh I feel bad at writing lately. Hopefully you like it though oof.

-J The Ghost

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➢ Author: J The Ghost ➢ Pairings:  Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ WC: ~4k ➢ Themes:  Hurt/Comfort? | Angst | Fluff | Happy Endings ➢ Warnings: Depression | Anxiety | Death Threats | Spiraling | Intrusive Thoughts | Cyberbullying? ➢ Summary: You and Corpse are publicly dating, you knew you'd get some hate, but you didn't actually think it would get to you like this...

Request: Hate Mail

You woke up from your nap to the sounds of several voices coming from the other room. He must be streaming… You thought groggily as you stretched and snuggled back into the covers enveloped in the scent of his cologne.  You pulled out your phone and checked the time, almost four… Jesus, he really had made good on his word, you didn’t even realize you could be that exhausted. As you scrolled through your socials you saw the notifications of most of his friends live streams. Sussy Sundays, of course, how did you forget? He really had taken it out of you earlier. 

You were grateful to have weekends off, allowing you to see him more than just any days you managed to get off work at a decent time, but you hated Sundays. You both took turns staying over at each other's houses and coming up with fun things to do together, but since he’d agreed to be a part of the Sussy Sundays, you had to find a way to entertain yourself. When he would stay at your house, it was easy to find things to do- dishes, laundry, and tidying up always needed done- but at his place, he mostly ordered takeout, and didn't really have enough stuff to ever accumulate messes, much less any laundry, so you were left to figure something else out. 

A few times he’d asked you to join in on games, or hangout and watch him, but if the viewers got wind that you were with him- everyone's chat would latch on and start blowing up about it. You hated the fact that you’d turn viewers' attention away from the streamers they were watching, which led to you feeling guilty for making even the slightest sounds despite both him and his ever supportive friends trying to actively involve you. 

Ever since the two of you had gone public, the internet had gone wild. In the beginning fans were pretty supportive and kind, but once Corpse started to post about you more and more, they quickly turned on you. It felt like the majority now was vehemently against the idea of your relationship. You knew that once it was public, you would get a lot of hate, but some of the comments were so hyper specific and vile- you couldn't help but be hurt. You always did your best to not read through them, or let him see when ones you did see affect you. You knew it was mostly young fans that were crushing on him and envious of you, but it all still seemed to leave you feeling drained, and anxious, an empty feeling of doom settling in with each critique. What if he saw merit in some of them? Sure most were shallow insults, but some seemed so spot on to you. 

Who even are they? They're nobody, why is he with them??

He probably felt bad- he’s just too nice…

He can do soo much better…

You weren't usually an insecure person, but it was hard to stay positive when you did kind of agree. You worked a normal job, lived an average life, and you weren't really into the world of streaming, even as a viewer. It was- at the least- confusing to understand why he would be with you over someone with a similar lifestyle, or had more in common with him. 

Tik Tok was your savior while he finished up with his friends. The algorithm only showed you the mind-numbing content you wanted to see, nothing about him or streaming at all. It was around 7:30 and you were halfway through a dinner recipe video when he finally entered his room again. 

“Have a good nap?” He smirked tiredly as he plopped down on the bed beside you. 

“So good…” You chuckled, saving the video before tossing your phone aside to snuggle up to him “How was the stream?” 

“It was fun. Everyone said to tell you hi…” He wrapped his arm around you and absently traced his fingers along your arm.

“Tell them I say hi too.” You smiled as you buried your face into his hoodie. “Your friends are so nice…” 

“Mhm… they really like you.” He chuckled. “Are you hungry yet? I'm starving…” You nodded and paused, still groggy from lying in bed. 

“Can we get pasta? I’m craving it so bad…” Your voice perked up at the thought of the recipe video.

“Of course,” he laughed at your enthused voice, “you better start getting ready though…”

“Were going out?” You looked up at him in confusion, it was rare he ever wanted to go out, especially so spontaneously. 

“Yeah why not? I mean… as long as you’re up for it?” 

“Y-Yeah, just surprised that you are…” You beamed up at him before mustering the energy to get up and get ready. You pulled your hair aside and headed to the bathroom to wash your face, peeking slightly in the mirror's reflection and catching glimpses of him changing from the bedroom. The cheeky blush across your face turned quickly to a hot embarrassment as you watched the black button-down settle across his lean shoulders. Your mind started flashing through images of all the comments deeming you unworthy of him. You turned your face away from the mirror and avoided eye-contact with yourself- knowing it would only cement those thoughts and sour your mood even more. 

You quickly brushed your teeth and headed back to the room, only to stare at the clothes you had brought in disappointment. Too loose you’ll look like a soggy cardboard box, too tight you’ll look like a shrink wrapped ham, too-

“You okay?” He chuckled from behind you as he fixed his shirt.

“Yeah… I’m fine.” You huffed out, grabbing at a random article of clothing and feeling yourself physically recoil at the thought of wearing it. 

“You don’t look fine- if you don’t wanna go out we can stay in…” He shrugged and examined your clothes with you. “You still have some other things in my closet you know… you don’t have to keep living out of your carry on bag. You can keep things here.” He laughed softly. 

“I- I know. I just… I don’t know- it's one of those days- you know?” You mustered up a small laugh. “Nothing feels right.” You shrugged it off. 

“I get it… let's just stay in.” He sat beside your clothes on the bed, offering a soft smile as he took your hands and pulled you closer .

“No, I want to go out…” You furrowed your brow a bit, irritated that you were letting it all affect you so much. “I’ll hurry up.” You pulled another few items of clothing out and headed back to the bathroom, not wanting to even think about him watching you change right now. 

You came back out after continuing to struggle through every aspect of getting ready while your mind attacked you. He sat up from scrolling his socials on the bed and quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket- a detail you wish your brain would find insignificant.

 “Ready?” He smiled and stood as you nodded. He grabbed his jacket and threw it on as you grabbed your things and started to head out with him. 

You were grateful for the comfortable silence as he drove to the restaurant, allowing you some time to try and change your mood. He’d put some softer lofi on the radio and let you silently watch as the streetlights flashed past your window. You weren't sure how he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, yet he always did. 

When you arrived at the restaurant you were surprised to hear he’d made reservations for the two of you. You couldn’t help but smile, despite the discomfort welling up that he’d chosen something more fancy than you had expected- or dressed for. 

“Wait, wait…” He hooked arm around your side, stopping you as you followed the host to the booth. He spun you into him in front of the elegant floor length mirror stood beside the entrance and pulled out his phone for a picture. You giggled at the quick cute gesture and posed with him, shutting your eyes as he snapped the pic to avoid any further mental spiraling. 

Dinner went by uneventfully, you stayed a bit more quiet as he excitedly told you about new songs he was working on, or vented about the issues holding up his new merch drop. It wasn’t entirely due to your bad mood, you loved seeing him enthuse about his passions and how animated he’d suddenly become. His whiskey toned eyes would light up and his excitement was palpable in the air, making even you more energized. It wasn’t until halfway through or so when you came back from the bathroom that things shifted. You caught sight of him looking up at you returning before tucking his phone quickly away again. 

“What’s that about?” You questioned lightheartedly with a laugh.

“Oh it’s nothing… Did you wanna get dessert?” He dismissed before swiftly changing the subject, but not before you caught a strange look on his face. 

“Okay Mr. Secretive… um, I think I’m full though.” You shrugged awkwardly as you looked down at your plate.

“You sure weren't saying that about the wine though…” He chuckled as he sipped his own glass.

“I- okay?” You rebutted, hesitating as you gave him a confused glance. “I was just trying to cure my bad mood…” You internally cringed as your voice came out more defeated and offended than you intended, seemingly proving his point that you’d had too much. It was only two glasses… am I really that bad? All that stupid pasta I kept shoving in my fat mouth absorbed it all- I don’t even feel drunk…

“Wh- no… baby I- I was just making a joke… I didn’t mean anything by it-” His face softened with concern. 

“No it’s fine… I probably have had too much- sorry.” You managed to squeak out, your face reddening with embarrassment. “Let’s just get the check…” I just want to go home now… Jesus Christ. You bit down on the inside of your lip as you heard the harsh, irritated sigh he let out. 

---

The drive back from the restaurant was insufferable, just as it had been for him to the restaurant. He wasn’t sure if even his knives could’ve cut the tension radiating from the passenger side. It was clear something happened but he didn’t know what. Before he’d gone to his office to join the stream everything was fine, but once he came back the mood had completely changed. 

“Are you- okay? Did I do something to upset you?” He asked as tentatively as he could upon getting back home. 

“N-No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I had too much to drink.” Your voice was still soft but had a bit of an edge to it. 

“I’m sorry I said that at the restaurant, I didn’t mean it like that at all. I meant it in like a- ‘it’s funny that you chose the wine over dessert…’ because I agreed- kind of way… I’m sorry baby.” He paused, taking your hands and tugging you gently closer as he kissed your forehead. “Y/n, If I did something to upset you, I wanna know, so I can fix it and make you feel better. You’ve seemed upset since I got off stream.”

“It… it’s fine, I’m just stupidly sensitive. I’m fine.” You ruined the entire night with him, great job. If he really wasn’t hiding anything on his phone earlier, he’ll surely start now. You huffed in frustration at yourself. “I should probably get home…” 

“W- Why? You always leave Monday mornings…” He asked, feeling his energy plummet as you continued to shut down. 

“I just have an early day tomorrow is all. I’m sorry…” You met his gaze, immediately wishing you hadn't as you offered a half smile to his heartbreakingly defeated expression. You pushed back the self-criticism as you went to collect your things, that could wait until you were alone in your car. He silently followed you back into his room like a kicked puppy and helped you gather your things, making your brain slew more insecurities about him wanting you gone. Once all your stuff was in your bag he walked you out to your car while you said your goodbyes. 

“Please drive safe…”

He’ll just feel guilty if something happens…

“...text me when you get home…”

He feels like he has to say that… you’re so fucking sensitive. He walks on eggshells with you.

“I love you…” 

No he doesn’t, why the fuck would he? 

The drive back home continued that way as you dissociated the entire time, only letting the tears fall once you were back inside your own house. After having a small breakdown over the bullying your brain had done, you texted him you were home before collapsing down into your bed- exhausted by it all. You were ready for any solace you could get from mindlessly scrolling your phone, though it seemed the universe had something else in mind. You opened your instagram to check messages from your friends but were promptly bombarded by a photo he’d posted of the two of you from the restaurant. He’d put some goofy angel and devil emojis over your faces that you tried to let yourself laugh at but couldn't muster at the moment. He’d captioned it ‘LOMFL 😍🥵’ that got a small smile out of you, but not without a scoff. It wasn’t really until you tapped on the comments, you felt your gut tighten. The first few were various heart emojis from Rae, Tina, and Sean- but below that it took a turn. His fans attacked everything about you, your outfit, your weight, even your personality- as if they even knew you. But it didn’t stop there, some crazed fans had gone as far as finding you somehow- despite him never tagging you- and DMing your personal account even more vile things, even death threats. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to scream and show them how awful you could really be, but mostly you wanted to make yourself stop believing them. You didn’t want any of it to be true… but you were now convinced it was. 

The next day you kept your phone completely off, even going as far as deleting all your socials before shutting it off. In the morning meeting with your boss you informed her your phone wasn’t working and email was how you should be contacted from now on, so you wouldn't even need it on for later. You went about your daily tasks at work completely numb, doing everything you could to keep yourself too busy to think. Of course, that only worked at work, at home it was entirely different. The next few days turned to weeks as you cleaned like you never had before, you rearranged furniture like you were suddenly trying to fit four Alaskan king sized beds in your home, you went to the store and meal prepped- full well knowing you’d have no appetite, you binged several of your favorite shows entirely. 

By the third week, you’d fully run out of tasks to keep the thoughts and anxiety at bay. You scrolled through Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon- finding nothing. Out of either habit or some subconscious cue about the anxiety of not texting the only person you wanted to at the moment, you opened up Youtube. You rolled your eyes and groaned softly but scrolled through the videos anyway, cringing as the recommendations of Sussy Sundays and various other videos with your boyfriend popped up. You felt incredibly guilty about not talking to him. It wasn’t like the two of you talked non-stop, or that he’d be mad, you were just sure with the way you’d left things he was likely worrying about you by now. As you continued to scroll you saw a live video pop up in your suggestions, of him. He’s live? Why is he live? He doesn’t stream anymore… You were already anxious, but after reading the title ‘we need to talk…’ you started to feel sick. You hesitantly clicked the video and his voice rang out from your TV. 

“...I really don’t give a fuck how you guys feel or what you fuckin think…” He paused, presumably reading the chat. “I know it’s not all of you… but those of you that are commenting this shit… I don’t wanna fuckin see it- I don’t everr wanna see this shit again… if you like my content but come into my chat, or friends chats, or on twitter.com or instagram and say that shit… fucking unsubscribe right now, fuck you. Get off the fucking internet, it's disgusting.” You took in a deep breath as anxiety welled up more, why was he doing this? “I’ll straight up never put out another thing ever again if this keeps happening. I know that people are always gonna be assholes, but if you’re a fan of me or whatever- and saying this fucking shit about my partner? Go fuck yourself. I don’t want your fucking support…”  

You stared at his animated figure standing in the rain blankly and opened up your laptop, starting a video call to him. You waited for a while as he went silent on stream before it was denied. Is he mad at me? It’s all my fault- fuck.

“Anyways- I just thought I’d get on here and reprimand you fucks… and to all my actual fans, being kind and supportive, thank you, and keep reporting these people- love you guys… oodles and oodles… keep being you- I’m sorry you guys had to hear this… love you.” 

 You tried again as the stream ended. Again denied. Fuck he’s pissed… Because of me he had to get on after not streaming anymore and do that- fuck… You took a deep breath and tried to not overthink. Maybe he’s just sick of your bullshit. If he was worried or he’d been trying to contact you at all, he probably would’ve answered. You fidgeted nervously at the thought. I’ll just start a new show- keep my mind off this… You shut your laptop and dejectedly threw it aside on the couch before getting up and grabbing some blankets for another night of Netflix. 

You were two episodes in when you decided to grab a snack but just as you paused the show and stood, there was a knock on the door. You looked over, and cautiously moved toward it. Peeking out the peephole you saw what looked like an outraged figure of your boyfriend standing outside. You felt icy panic run through you as you grabbed the handle and twisted, preparing yourself for the worst.

“You’re okay…” He sighed in relief as his whole body relaxed. 

“I- Y- yeah… I- I’m fine.. What are you-” You tried to play catch up, still in shock to see him at your door, let alone not yelling at you. 

“You haven’t answered your phone- for anyone- in like a month…” He seemed to pant out. “I tried to give you space and not worry too much when you weren't answering, but then you deleted your socials, and then didn’t answer Tina, or Rae… or me… I was… scared.” He paused and caught his breath. “When you video called me I panicked, I thought you were in trouble or- I- I don’t even know… I just rushed over.” He stepped in and yanked you into one of his enveloping bear hugs. You stood motionless, mostly from how tight his arms were around you, but partially from even more surprise. Here he was, yet again, proving that he knew you better than anyone- and certainly better than you knew him. The guilt of not talking to him only grew now. How could you have ever thought any awful things about the panic stricken, devoted, heart-of-fucking-gold man that was seemingly holding onto you for dear life? 

“I- I’m sorry…” You squeaked out, faltering under his obvious concern. He sighed again and released his hold but kept his hands gently on your arms. 

“Please don’t do that again… If you need space that's okay, but please just tell me… I- I didn’t know what to think- or do…” He knelt down to your level slightly, his face full of worry as he seemed to practically beg. 

“I’m sorry…” You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat as your voice wavered. 

“I-It’s okay… I- I’m not mad… I just wanted to know you’re safe- cause I worked myself into a panic not knowing- I’m sorry I just showed up out of the blue…” He took a deep breath. “If you still need space that's okay I just- I was really worried. I know I’m probably overreacting…” 

“No… I just… I don’t know-” You looked down at your feet, the guilt consuming you now as he continued to prove every horrible thought you had about him wrong. 

“Do you want to talk?” He questioned hesitantly as his mind began reeling in the same way yours had. You just nodded, looking up as he closed the door and looked back to you, eyes still full of worry. 

You moved back to the couch and curled up into the blanket, comforting yourself and trying to hold back tears of guilt over how you’d acted toward him. He slowly moved to sit by you. 

“What’s going on? A-are you upset with me?” He stuttered nervously, also anticipating the worst. You shook your head and shut your eyes as they welled up. It all felt so stupid now- but the constant harassment, death threats, and insults had done a number- and having him here, almost completely in the dark about it all but still so kind and loving was just too much all at once. 

“Oh- baby… shh come here.” He soothed melodically as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly again. “Please talk to me.” His voice was soft and quiet as he pressed kisses onto the top of your head. 

“I don’t wanna cry- it’s stupid…” You managed to mumble. 

“It’s not stupid- something is really bothering you… is it the comments and shit?” You nodded. 

“It’s all of it- I- I don’t know why you’re even with me…” Your voice cracked and broke. 

“Y/n, I’m with you because I’m in love with you- I wouldn’t ever let the opinions of fucking dumbass ten-year-olds with no internet supervision change or dictate that…” You cringed as you heard the offended tone in his voice. 

“I know… I just… I let my brain believe it all… and I feel shitty… and that just makes me wonder even more why- because I do shit like this- even though you’re nothing but amazing and loving to me…” You choked out between sobs. 

“You’re not shitty…” His tone softened even more as he pulled your face up. “I have no idea what it’s like to go through that, and how you can even deal with it. Most people don’t. I knew it was hard to see, and if I had any idea that you’d been this upset about it for this long I would’ve stopped it right then and there…” He kissed your forehead and wiped off your tears. “I’m so sorry baby… I should’ve known.” You shook your head. 

“I should’ve just told you… but I felt so stupid- letting it get to me- I wanted to just come home and clear my head and get over it… but then it got worse and I just I don’t know, I couldn't deal.” He pushed your hair from your face and let you continue after the sobs began to slow. “Now I just feel guilty and shitty for avoiding you- avoiding all of it, not telling you… especially when you are… like this- so nice, and understanding.” You scoffed harshly at yourself, making him chuckle.

“Don’t. It’s a pretty understandable way to react… I’m sorry honey…” He leaned in and kissed you softly. “Would it help if I pretend to be mad at you?” He joked lightly as you parted. You let out a weak but honest giggle and gave an exaggeratory nod. He laughed and tsked loudly. “I can’t believe it… how could someone so goddamn attractive, funny, kind, and lovable think that I’d be dumb enough to see any warrant to the words of fuckin dipshit kids? To think that I’m not already blindly and completely head over heels? I’m disappointed…” He mocked in a goofy tone.

“Shut up…” You laughed, wiping your face and pushing him playfully. 

“I love you dummy.” He chuckled and kissed you again. 

“I love you too, Corpsie.” 

[phoenixsbby]

All This Time - Hangman x WSO!reader

summary: the one (and only) time you fly with Hangman, your plane goes down and you’re forced to rely on each other for a lot more than moral support. 

WC: 4.2k

a/n: forced proximity, forced proximity, forced proximity.

warnings: slight mention of blood, swearing

If there was one thing said about you around North Island, it was that you rarely held animosity for others. You were a nice person. Sure, people managed to piss you off occasionally and you may have a quick temper but, holding grudges? It wasn’t really your style. That being said, you’re convinced it’ll take years if not centuries to forgive Lieutenant Jake Seresin for this. 

You’ve lost feeling in your toes, there’s warm blood trickling down from your nose, and your one ride out of enemy territory is a fiery ball of scrap miles away but, all you can think about in that moment is how good it was going to feel to finally punch this guy.

He deserves it, really. If he had just listened to your instruction, broke right instead of left, remained above 1000 feet, simply did anything you told him to do ... you’d both be back on the USS Voyager by now. But, you’re not. You’re on the side of a snowy mountain with popsicle feet and a bone to pick with Hangman. 

With your fists clenched tightly at your sides, you get close enough to make out his face and falter slightly. He looks concerned? Helmet long discarded, his forehead is wrinkled and his shoulders are hunched in. This is the first time you’d ever seen Hangman look so ... small. He would always carry himself with so much confidence, so much swagger, to make it seem like not even the biggest guy in the Navy could take him down.

But now, it’s like one strong gust of wind could come by and he’d topple over. And that in itself jars you enough to freeze you in your warpath and just stare. He must have caught sight of your movements or heard your crunchy footsteps because his head whips in your direction and his whole demeanor changes. He lets his head fall back and tilts his face up, muttering something to the sky before locking his gaze back on you.

Then he’s moving, quickly, with a determination you’ve seen from him so many times before. He’s getting closer, you open and close your fist a few times, mentally hyping yourself to take the swing. But before you can get the nerve, his arms are encasing you against him, so tightly it almost knocks the wind out of you and you have to let out an involuntary ‘oof’. 

What the hell is happening? Yeah, you’d crash landed in enemy territory, but the world was not ending. Your beacons would signal the ship your whereabouts and Search and Rescue would come (hopefully with warm ass blankets and a stiff drink) to grab you. The world was not ending.

So, why was Jake Seresin holding you like any second the ground beneath you would give way?

And why are you enjoying it?

He’s warm and solid and there. And for a split second, you succumb to the comfort of those facts. Just as quickly, your mind reverts back to the other facts. Hangman disobeyed orders and ignored your guidance; this is his fault.

So you push against his chest, hard. You break away from him with a huff and throw your hands up.

“Are you insane?” You bark at him, trying to catch his eyes as they roam over your figure.

“Are you hurt?” 

“I told you to fly away from the peaks and brace right! You did the exact opposite-“

“Are you hurt?” His tone is much firmer now, cutting you off and shutting you up instantly. He’s taken a step closer too and his eyes can’t seem to pick a place to rest, still scanning, scanning, scanning. 

“No! I’d say I’m fine, but I’m stuck on a mountain with you!” You can see the insult doesn’t even stick because his face goes slack again with a look of relief. “Explain yourself, Bagman. Because you said you’d be able to handle flying a two-seater. You said you could handle having a WSO in your back seat, yet ...” You break off, flailing your arms around to emphasize your predicament, you know, in case he forgot. 

“Okay, I get that you’re upset-“ you roll your eyes, “but, as the pilot, I saw the open opportunities in front of us. I had a window and if it wasn’t for that SAM Rooster missed with his flares-“

“That I told you how to avoid!”

“then we would have been fine.” He’s grinning and the urge to punch him is back and stronger than ever. It was risky, to allow Hangman to step into the box as a replacement for your usual front seater who had been sick for weeks. But, leadership was insistent that you, a heavily trained and highly accomplished WSO, needed to be on this mission. 

And Lieutenant Seresin rarely backed down from a challenge. 

You two had never gotten along, not really. There wasn’t an open hatred, or too many overly heated exchanges in your past. It came down to some small comments made here and there, some sharp insinuations that you weren’t as good or as valuable to the squadron. Or at least, that’s how you took it. 

Your history and lack luster personal connection with Hangman was all you needed to know to be sure that you two would not make a good team. One test flight, one mission simulation, and you’d both be grounded from the assignment. For the first time since you’d known him, Seresin proved you wrong. You ended up making good numbers during the sims, hitting the target more times than not and with a lower risk mission, that was all the Navy needed to green light the change and to seal your fate to his.

And fate had brought you here.

You wipe the blood from under your nose and avert your eyes from his figure before actually getting violent to survey your surroundings. There was nothing but snow and trees and your broken down parachutes. A ways away, you can see smoke rising, the sad result of the crash but a beacon of hope for potential radio communication.

“Well, Seresin, because you ever so gracefully did not avoid the SAM, we need to hike to the crash site and see if any part of the jet is recoverable.” You gather up the line and disconnect his parachute before starting up toward the jet.

“If we hike at a brisk pace to keep warm and conserve our energy by not talking, we’ll make it there in no time!” You say loudly over your shoulder, not waiting for your partner to catch up. 

You don’t even have to see his face to know there’s a grin on it, it’s dripping in his tone when he replies, “Yes ma’am.”

——

The jet is utterly destroyed, though you can’t say you’re surprised. The radio is far too gone for any chance at sending out a message so, you have to assume the beacons on your suits will provide enough of an exact location for a helicopter drop. 

The dwindling twilight from the sun setting is outlining the peaks of the mountains surrounding you, casting your figures and the tundra in an indigo glow. Complete darkness is enviable and with darkness comes the cold.

You and Hangman had been trained on this throughout your careers, basic survival strategies. Both of you agreed that even though Search and Rescue would come, they would take a bit and freezing temperatures plus wet clothing can be a lethal combo, even for a short period of time. So, you scoured the land and the trees before collecting and creating the most pathetic fire a couple of US Naval Lieutenants could manage.

But a fire was a fire and you almost bent over to lay one right on Jake when he finally got the flame to catch. The sudden desire to kiss Hangman was almost as unsettling as the whole concept of being stranded in enemy territory. Almost more unsettling was the fact that you couldn’t say it was the first time the desire had come over you ... that didn’t make it any less unsettling every time it occurred though.

Just like all the other times, you averted any and all eye contact with him and shoved the thought away deeply in the back of your brain. Just like it never happened.

Sitting across from him now, both huddling dangerously close to the open flame, it’s almost impossible to not look at him. You manage to avoid it until he opens his mouth, of course.

“Is your nose okay?”

“What?”

“Your, uh, nose?” He shifts, raising his hand to wipe under his own nose. “It was bleeding earlier.” 

“Oh.” You self-consciously raise your hand to your nose and feel nothing fresh. Then you blanch because you’d forgotten about that situation. You’d forgotten about pretty much everything other than your anger at him and getting out of there asap. It wasn’t uncommon for your nose to bleed when you change altitudes rapidly. Pretty shitty circumstance for a fighter pilot but, you’ve always managed. You go to tell him it didn’t even hurt but, then you blanch again because you didn’t even ask him if he was hurt.

He had to eject from a rapidly descending jet just like you, probably took an equally rough landing from the parachute, and you didn’t even check if he was okay?

Some partner you are.

Guilt floods your system, almost as shocking and uncomfortable as ice beneath you. He had messed up, yes, but that didn’t make him less of a teammate, less of a person. And suddenly you remember why you don’t hold grudges. Everyone made mistakes. In the end, you’d both be okay.

That’s if he doesn’t have a life-threatening injury that you brushed over.

“It stopped bleeding. I get them occasionally while flying, no biggie.” You clear your throat. “Are you hurt at all? I should have checked before, I’m really sorry. I was slightly blindsided by our situation and well, some rage ... but I’m over that now and I realize I should have asked you that question way earlier but-“

“Y/N.” Jake cuts you off, stopping your rambling short because he used your name. Not your call sign. Not Lieutenant Y/L/N. Y/N. It’s rare to be called by your first name around the base, around all of North Island really but, it’s nice to hear it once and awhile. Nice takes on a whole new meaning when Jake uses it. It’s like a shot of espresso, waking you up and sending a jolt of awareness that spreads to every inch of you.

You like the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

There’s another thought to tuck so, so deeply away.

“I’m okay,” he continues “no harm done.” Your gazes settle on each other and there’s a lull in the conversation spent simply looking at one another. You shamelessly let yourself drink in his features while you can only hope assume he’s doing the same. He has skin so smooth and tan, you wonder what it’d taste like. The lines that stretch across his face when he smiles are so prominent you wonder what it would be like to feel them under your fingertips. His hair, sun streaked and a little tussled from his helmet looks inviting, like he’s begging you to pull your hands through it and fix it.

The thoughts are as intrusive as they are all-consuming. You know there’s no place deep enough, no corner of your brain dark enough to hide them away. 

“Can’t say the same for the F-18 and my pride though.” His grin grows and you’re forced to refocus. 

“I think you could use the ego check.” You try to grin back.

“Just a reminder that it takes two to tango, m’dear. As a WSO, I thought it was your job to defend incoming threats.” 

And he’s back.

“Believe me, I tried my best. But you were pretty insistent on flying however you deemed fit. My input meant little to nothing.” 

“It was a little hard to focus with your constant corrections. Do this, not that. Maneuver left, your other left-”

“That’s my job!”

“If you had just trusted me-“

“I trusted you with my life!” The volume of your voice startles both of you into silence. You don’t mean to raise it but, it was always the same game with Hangman. A push and a pull until something snaps. You exhale a small, sharp breath and force yourself to look at him.

He’s watching you closely, a glassy look in his eyes illuminated by the orange lick of the fleeting flames that separate you.

“The minute I got into your backseat, I trusted you. Flying a two-seater, it means being a part of a team. And you’re right, at the core of any team is trust. I gave you that, completely, but you didn’t do the same.” 

Jake opens and closes his mouth a few times and you wait on batted breath for what he might say. You know you’ve stumped him, thrown his words right back in his face and he had nothing left but to admit that you were right. At that point you didn’t care about being right. All you cared about was going home and never stepping foot outside the warm San Diego climate again. 

“Why’d you even take this mission? It was out of your comfort zone. You probably could have even flown a solo dagger if you really wanted in.” You take your eyes off him and focus them on the fire, picking at it slowly to try to keep it alive. You know what he’s going to say, you weren’t even sure why you asked. You’re sure he’ll say, ‘I wanted to push my comfort zone, prove I’m the best, most versatile pilot they’ve got.’

What you do not expect him to say is, “I wanted to be close to you.”

The words have your snapping your head up to look at him directly only to find his eyes still glued to you. His stare is unnervingly strong, you feel yourself start to crack under the weight of it mixed with his words.  

“...what?”

He scoffs, a sarcastic, annoying, how-do-you-not-already-know scoff.

“Ever since I’ve met you, I wanted to get to know you.” You furrow your brows, open your mouth to respond then just as quickly close it because ...what? All he’s ever done is bicker with you, poke fun at your quirks and taunt your skills. You may have not hung around him long enough to give him a chance to do anything else but, why would you?

Maybe because you secretly longed to be in his presence. A sensible person would take his seemingly negative attitude regarding you and stay far away. Instead, you found yourself drifting back toward him only to be pushed away time and time again. Clearly you lacked sensibility when it came to Hangman. As much as you wanted to blame the pull you felt to him on his undeniable attractiveness, you knew it had more to do with your desire to impress him, to prove him wrong. He was a painful cavity yet, you constantly caught yourself wrist deep in the candy jar, craving the sweetness of his validation. 

At your prolonged silence, he continues, “All you ever do is give me one word answers or roll your eyes at my presence. I get it, you hate me and I’m pathetic for hoping that if you ever gave me a chance, you’d change your mind about me. So yes, I volunteered for this god awful mission just so I could spend some time with you in the box.”

No way. “You belittle me at every chance you get.”

“I admire you. I push you because I want you to grow, to be better and because you always push me back.”

“This is not elementary school where you pull a girl’s pigtails because you think they’re pretty. We’re adults, you could have just told me!”

“Would you have listened?”

The answer ‘yes’ dances on the tip of your tongue but your mouth remains clamped shut. 

“Like I said, I was taking any chances I could get.” 

It’s all too much at once, you start to rethink every conversation you two ever shared, relive every look, pry open every feeling - was it always hate or something else? It never truly felt like hate, but it was an unknown feeling that bloomed beneath your breastbone, an uncomfortable one.

“Search and Rescue will be here in any minute. We should conserve our energy, try to find a way to stay warm.” At this point you’re shivering (and pathetically trying to divert the conversation), wrapping your arms so tightly around yourself to persevere your own body heat before anymore can seep out.

Jake’s lips look blue and you’re sure yours look similar because they prickle when you release a deep sigh or run your tongue across them. He’s shivering too and your fingers twitch involuntarily, desperate to reach out to him. Not because you want to feel his body pressed against yours, thank you very much. It’s simply a survival instinct, in weather like this, to huddle for warmth. 

“You okay?” You must have been staring at him, cause he’s looking at you with slight concern. 

“Just cold.” You nod weakly, the condensation from your warm breath against the stark temperature around you displays itself in a puff of grey before you.

“Come here.” His voice is thick as honey and coated in so much tenderness it sends a quiver down your spine.

You’re still staring at him, hesitating even though the offer is so tempting. Just the mere thought of becoming a couple degrees warmer in that moment has you aching for the contact. 

Wordlessly, you shuffle your way over and plop down beside him. Your bodies connect, from your shoulders to your toes, and instantly you feel the heat emanating from him persuade you to lean closer. You feel a hand dip in-between your clasped ones and let it pull them apart because it’s warmer than both your hands combined. You keep your eyes glued in front of you, worried if you turned to face him, he’d see an additional heat creep across your cheeks. Not a heat from sitting too close to the fire or potential frostbite. No, this heat was a pure, instinctual reaction to having your skin grazing against his. 

God, how is he so warm?

“God, you’re freezing.” He murmurs before the hand pulls away. His body disappears from beside you and immediately, you miss the force of him against you and the relief it provided. You watch questioningly as he rises and moves behind you before dropping down into the snow. Before you can look over your shoulder, his legs are spread out on either side of yours and his hands wrap tightly around your shoulders.

He guides you back, pulling you flush against his chest. It takes all of your willpower not to moan at the connection of your back against his front and the immediate rush of heat that the new position provides. He shifts closer, if that’s even possible, trailing his hands down your arms before wrapping them securely across your chest and around you.

“Is this okay?” His hot breath cascades over your ear and down your neck, leaving a ripple of goosebumps in its wake.

“Yes.” You breath back, raising your hands to wrap around his arms. You let your head fall back, cheek nuzzling into his, desperate to get closer. You’ve never felt such a desperate urge to be close to someone. It’s like no matter how close you do get, it’s not enough. You want to burrow yourself into his skin and into this feeling. You don’t know why you’re doing it, if it’s again, your survival instincts, or something more but it’s like you’re drunk off of his heat, intoxicated by the molten feel of his body on yours.

He’s quiet, tentative, like he’s worried one wrong move or word and reality will seep back into your peripheral.

“I admire you too.” You whisper, this comfort coaxing the words out. “You’re stubborn, annoyingly confident ... but you’re so brave. Nothing seems to faze you.”

“Not nothing.” His grip seems to unconsciously tighten around you.

“You’re intimidating, almost unapproachable, even when I thought I wanted to, it seemed like you didn’t want me around. Just a WSO ...” His words from one of your first interactions bounced around in your head constantly. You feel him lean his head heavier against yours in response. 

He huffs out a laugh, “Believe me, I wanted it.” He shook his head. “And I never should have said that. What you do is important, so important that they’d send you out with me just to ensure that you’d be out there.”

“You’re not so bad.” You snicker and squeeze his arms lightly. 

“I’m sorry if I ever hurt you.” His voice grows quieter, heavy with sincerity.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head thinking about it. “In the end you did,” You shift in his arms, turning to look up at him. Your faces are so close it takes almost all of your inner strength to finish your sentence “make me better.”

His stare is dizzying, it simmers on your skin almost as much as his body heat itself. It’s dark and it’s deep and you never want him to stop looking at you that way.

“Maybe next time, if you want me to know that you like me, just tell me.”

A smirk breaks out across his lips and it’s so him that it makes you want to simultaneously punch him and smash your lips against his.

He nods ever so slightly before replying, “I like you. I like your drive and your refusal to take shit from anyone, including me.” You bite your lip to hold back the wide grin threatening to burst out as his hand rises to cup your cheek. “I like how you’re effortlessly beautiful and take my breath away. I like you so much that I’m afraid I’ll burst if you don’t say you like me too.”

For a second, you’re worried you may have actually caught on fire because your insides feel liquified. There’d be a puddle of your former self in the snow if it weren’t for Jakes arms keeping you together, upright. 

“But, I’d understand if you didn’t, I was a dick to you and I’m so-“

Without giving it much thought, because fuck that, you tilt your head up and connect your lips to Jakes with enough force to both shut him up and to convey a clear message - you like him too. 

He reacts immediately, kissing back with an equal amount of force. His lips tenderly yet hungrily engulf yours as his other hand digs its way into your tight military bun to cradle the back of your head. A strangled noise escapes from your throat when he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, prying to dive deeper inside of you. 

You oblige, allowing him to swirl your tongues together while he greedily swallows any whimpers his hands illicit from you. He’s pulling, pushing, skimming, squeezing every square inch of your body that he can reach. From your jaw to your neck, down your hips, to the tops of your thighs while you sit in between his. He can’t settle, seemingly wanting to take all of you in.

“You have no idea,” he grumbles as he pulls his lips from yours, quickly reattaching them to the sensitive skin under your ear, “how long I’ve thought about this.” He sucks and nips his way down and across your throat, causing you to dig your nails deep enough into him to leave half-moon marks through his suit. “This skin,” he drags his bottom lip up until it reaches the corner of your mouth before pulling away just enough to peer down at you through hooded eyes.

“That smile.” He rubs a thumb over your mouth, eliciting a grin from you which he promptly returns with one of his own, “that’s the one.” 

“All this time? You did a shit job of showing it.” You let your own fingers dance across his face, selfishly giving into your own longing. “If you really wanted to see me smile, you could have let me win at pool or not always ate the last of my favorite fruit in the cafeteria, or I don’t know ... said good job.” You snicker as he rolls his eyes playfully and buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

“Fine, so the hard-to-get, bad boy persona didn’t work the way I hoped it would.” Except, it totally did. He pulls back and gives you a natural smile, his eyes twinkling. “When we get back, I’ll hand feed you those strawberries,” he pauses to kiss your cheek, “the next game at the Hard Deck is yours,” another kiss, “and you’ll receive endless praise from me. Okay, sweet girl?”

He never intended to hear your reply, not giving you time to before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. Screw the fire for warmth, screw your clothes for warmth, you suddenly had a very good idea of a new activity that would keep you both plenty warm. If it weren’t for the blinding white light of the helicopter prying you apart, you were certain your F-18 wouldn’t be the only thing to get wrecked on the edge of that mountain.  

——

[forever-rogue]

For the “I love you” prompts, maybe Eddie x Fem!Reader for overheard? Can lead to fluff or smut :) I was thinking Reader overhears Eddie, but whatever works for you! - @munson-blurbs 💚

AN | Buckle up for some angst! 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡��☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie Munson’s face had been pulled into a deep frown the entire evening. Well - it hadn’t been… until he’d spotted you. It wasn’t you per se, but it was the guy you were with; a tall, dark haired and objectively handsome guy. 

You’d told Eddie you couldn’t hang out with the gang because you had a test to study for. He hadn’t expected a test to come in the form of a man, but then again, he thought bitterly to himself, he wasn’t studying at the local community college with you so perhaps he had no clue. 

Steve clocked his shift in mood immediately and gently nudged Eddie’s side, catching his attention, “what’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to commit an actual murder.”

“Nothing,” he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking his head as he tried to keep his cool, “‘m fine, Steve.”

Steve made a small, noncommittal sound before following Eddie's line of sight and immediately realizing what the problem was. There you were, looking all pretty and happy, and very clearly on a date. On a date that wasn’t with Eddie. Oof. 

“Eddie-”

“It’s fine, Stevie,” he promised but the heartbroken look on his face suggested that he was anything but okay, “she’s entitled to date whoever she wants.”

“She didn’t tell you?” 

“Nope,” he sighed lightly, “but I’m not surprised. Things have been different since…”

Since you’d broken up with Eddie. 

“Hey,” Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a reassuring little squeeze, “it’ll be okay - things will be better soon. It’s still kinda fresh right now.”

“Doesn’t seem to be affecting her,” they both watched as you laughed, shoulders shaking from your giggles and a big smile on your face. You looked genuinely fine, “she just moved right on.”

“Eddie-”

“It’s whatever,” the curly haired boy insisted but Steve wasn’t buying it in the slightest. But all he could do right now was be there for his friend, however he needed him, “c’mon, the girls wanted to go and get ice cream.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You liked Eric, you really did. He was nice in an authentic way, not overly preppy or anything else and you’d met him in one of your economics classes. He’d asked you out but hadn’t made you uncomfortable or anything else. So you’d said and by now had gone on a few dates with him. And they’d all been lovely and he made you laugh and he made you feel special and he’d only kissed chastely a few times. 

Realistically, he would have been the perfect boyfriend. If only you hadn’t been so hung up on your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend. Eddie. 

It was almost laughable considering you were the one that had broken up with him. But your intentions had been good…you’d thought anyway. And yet it still hurt so much. You could barely stand being around Eddie because of how much you still loved him. Regardless, you figured he’d move on and find someone better, someone that loved him as he should be loved eventually. You would just have to learn to deal.

You paced around the room as you waited for Eric to pick up the phone….half of you was hoping that he wouldn’t pick up at all. But you just wanted to get this over with. Just when you thought it would ring out, he picked up, “hello?”

“Hey,” you were almost whispering as you twirled the cord with your fingers, “it’s just me.”

“Hey just me,” he teased, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Umm,” you paused for a moment, “listen, I want to be straightforward and honest with you. I really like you, but…I- ugh…”

“Can’t date me,” he finished for you and to your surprise he didn’t sound rude or upset, “I get it. I kinda had a feeling.”

“It’s not you,” you cringed at how bad that sounded out loud, “really. I’m just…not over my ex as much as I thought I would be and I don’t want to do that to you either. So…yeah.”

“It’s okay,” he promised kindly, “I appreciate the honesty and to be honest in my own way, it sucks because I think you’re great. Maybe we can still be friends down the road if you want.”

“I think you’re great too,” and you meant it, “thanks for understanding.”

“Anytime. And who knows - maybe things will change between you and your ex.”

“Maybe…”

But you highly doubted Eddie would ever want anything to do with you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Was a house party really going to clear your head and get your mind off of Eddie? You doubted it but according to Robin and Nancy it was worth a try. So here you were, clutching a lukewarm beer in a red plastic cup at the house of some guy you all sort of knew. It wasn’t great, but at least you were thinking about something else…even if that something else was how gross and sweaty the people around you were.

You finished off your beer before finding Robin and grabbing her hand so she would follow you to the kitchen. It was a slight reprieve from the commotion in the other rooms and you let out a long breath. Robin mirrored you before the two of you exchanged a small giggle.

“This is terrible,” you groaned as she nodded, “can we get out of here and just go home and have a movie marathon?”

“Only if there’s pizza,” she suggested as you nodded happily, “then it’s a deal. I’ll go and grab Nance.”

“I’ll get Steve,” you’d spied him going out to the backyard earlier and decided to look for him there. He’d had the right idea of getting out of the packed house anyway. You pushed through the throng of people before squeezing through the sliding glass door and making it outside. You let out a long sigh of relief at the feeling of the cool air on your skin, “Stevie?”

You spotted what you were sure was his figure around the corner, and walked towards him. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that someone was with him. You leaned against the side of the house in an effort to hide yourself as you now hoped he didn’t hear you. You were nosey - it was only natural. 

“C’mon,” you knew that was Steve’s pleading voice; these days it was often reserved for the young kindergarteners he taught, “just one time, what could be so bad. One date won’t hurt.”

“I’m not interested,” Eddie/ That was absolutely Eddie’s voice. You stiffened at the sound but didn’t move to leave, “can we please just drop it?”

“She’s really interested,” you wondered who she was, a shiver of jealousy running down your spine. Although you really had no room or reason to be jealous, “she’s a nice girl - she’s one of the admin assistants at the school office. I kinda talked you up to her and she said she’s love to go out. We could even do something like a double date.”

Ugh, Steve. He was your friend - and Eddie’s - and you knew he only wanted the best for you both. It made sense that he would want Eddie to perk up. It still stung though, kinda, sorta.

“Stevie,” Eddie sighed heavily, “I’m not ready and now’s just…not a good time.”

“It’s been three months, Eds.”

“I know,” you blinked away the tears that had started to prickle up. It was your fault - you were the reason he was still heartbroken, “but it just…still hurts.”

“At some point you’re going to have to let go…”

“I can’t just do that!”  you heard him groan in frustration, “it’s not that easy.”

“Eddie-”

“I’m in love with her,” and oh. That made your heart constrict. You slapped your hand over your mouth in order to keep from making any sounds out loud, “I’m still in love with her, man. I can’t just get over her. I don’t think I ever will. She was everything to me.”

“I know it hurts-”

“But I guess I meant nothing to her.”

And that right there, broke your heart more than anything else. He thought you didn’t love him, that he hadn’t been the best thing to happen to you. Like he was just some guy. He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“That’s not true,” Steve insisted softly. At least he knew, “she loved you - she still does.”

“She moved on very quickly,” he scoffed, “I might as well be dead to her.”

You couldn’t listen to this any longer, your heart breaking with every word. You wiped away your tears before running back inside and moving to find Robin. You found her with Nancy, the two of them making out in the kitchen.

“I gotta go,” you squeaked, trying to keep from totally falling apart, “‘m gonna go home.”

“What about movie night?” the girls exchanged a nervous glance at your sudden upset appearance, “babe-”

“‘s okay,” you lied, “I just…I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

And you rushed out, ready to go home and cry yourself to sleep. But it was well deserved because you felt like the worst person in the world. 

Then you remembered - you didn’t even have a ride home, “fuck.”

But you weren’t about to go back and ask for a ride. You were too stubborn and foolish to do that. Instead you’d walk back to your apartment. Even if it was a stupid thing to do. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were about halfway home when you heard a car on the side of the road. It was slowing down and you were immediately on edge. You refused to look, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave you alone. But then the car stopped completely, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

“What are you doing out here!?” you knew that voice…you just hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not so soon, not like this, “are you insane? It’s dark and late at night.”

“Eddie?” you turned your tearstained face towards him and both of you froze. His expression softened slightly and you sniffled, “what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face, “Robin and Nance said you left the party in a hurry and you were crying. And you didn’t have a ride home. Knowing how stubborn you are, I figured you’d just walk home. So - here we are.”

“But…I don’t understand,” you shook your head softly, wondering if this was some sort of dream your mind was conjuring up in order to make you feel better, “why? Y-you hate me…you should.”

“Because I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he whispered, a conflicted expression in his eyes, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“Eddie…” fuck. He missed the way his name sounded when you spoke it, “I’ll be okay. Just go home and I can walk the rest of the way. I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.”

“Not happening,” he insisted, the boy just as stubborn as you, “get in the van and I’ll take you home.”

You looked at him, long and hard, so many things that you wanted to tell him, “really, it’s okay.”

“It’s not a choice,” he held his hand out towards, motioning you towards him. You were shocked that he was still being so kind and gentle with you. He was way too good for you, “baby.”

You both realized his blunder at the same time and you opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m really, really sorry.”

“For what?” his voice cracked, on the verge of tears as much as you were.

“For breaking up with you,” you whispered, almost inaudible, “for making you feel like I didn’t love you. For making you feel like you weren’t good even. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I just…I wanted you to know that. You deserve to know that.”

“You say that, but you still broke up with me,” he shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. But you could see right through him, “so. It is what it is.”

“I…I did,” you agreed, “the worst mistake of my life. But that’s neither here nor there. Just I wanted you to know that it wasn’t you at all.”

“Mistake?” Were you completely deluded or was that a bit of hope in this voice? You nodded, “you moved on pretty fast…I saw you with that guy last week. When you said you couldn’t make it to movie night because you were studying.”

“To be fair, we had studied earlier and then decided to go out,” you said meekly, “that was Eric. We went out a few times…but I ended things with him a few days ago. It wasn’t anything that serious.”

“Why?” he swallowed thickly, “you seemed happy.”

“Eric was a nice guy,” you admitted, “but he wasn’t for me. And I told him that I wasn’t ready for anything. Because I, umm, I was still trying to get over you.”

“I don’t get it,” he sighed softly, “you broke up with me. Why? Why did you really do it?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you!” you blurted out, and he looked at you in surprise, “I…Eddie, I just never wanted to be the one to hold you back from anything. Never wanted you to have to be anyone different than who you were. I feel like we’re so different and I never wanted you to have to change or just, deal with me. Because you deserve everything and I don’t know if I could give that to you. I-I thought that one day you’ll meet someone who deserves you.”

“You are…” he shook his head before taking a step closer to you, “such a stubborn, wonderful little thing. I’ve never once thought of any of that. I love that we’re different - we’re different but still get to be ourselves. I love all the things that you do even if they make sense to me or whatever, because you love them. And I love you. I’ve already met someone that deserves me - you.”

“Eddie-”

“I’ve never once thought you’d hold me back,” he promised, “if anything, I thought it’d be the other way around. We always support each other - that’s never going to change. I love you and I always will.”

“You don’t have to say that-”

“I mean it,” he put his hand on your face and gently stroked his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “the last few months without you have been the worst ever. I just want you. Everything else we can figure out. We’ll always figure it out together.”

“I…you still want me?” you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “even after I…broke your heart?”

“I will always want you,” he leaned in, face so close to yours. You could just lean in a little and you’d be kissing him. Even if we did break up for a bit. I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you let him lean in and kiss you. Softly, more of a gentle brushing of lips than anything. But that was all you needed right now.

“I know,” he grinned, that wonderful magic smile stretching across his features, “c’mon, let me take you home, princess.”

“Okay,” you let him take your hand in his, threading your fingers together, “will you stay?”

“Do you want me to?” he asked, nervous that somehow you might change your mind.

“I do,” you squeeze his hand gently, “I don’t ever want you to leave.”

“I won’t,” he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “I won’t ever leave.”

“Good,” you nodded, throwing your arms tightly around him, “I won’t ever leave either. I love you.”

“I love you too, princess.”

[pathetic-sapphic]

Hii, can I request how would the arcane milfs reactions (separated ofc) when their love interest telling them that they're engaged to someone else?

P.S. Just thinking about them doesn't have the chance to say how they feel for the love interest makes me wanna cry fr 🥲

Arcane milfs when the person they love is taken

See that face? Yeah, that's exactly the kind of an expression SEVIKA makes when she finds out you're taken. She lets out a small 'Oh.' and awkwardly scratches the back of her head while apologizing to you before she swiftly leaves. She stomps back to her apartment and definitely breaks something before slumping down on her couch. With her head in her hands, Sevika curses, thinking about how could she be so stupid. Of course you already have someone! Someone inevitably better than her, someone who can probably give you a secure and happy life, things she could never provide for you. In the end she heaves a deep sigh before sitting back and lighting up a cigarette. And if a tear rolls down her scarred cheek as she smokes, well... she will be the only witness to that scene.

GRAYSON is caught off guard at first. With how enamored she has been with you lately, her mind was so caught up that it never even occurred to her that you might be taken. She looks down at the bouquet of flowers she brought for you, to invite you on a date, before lifting her head to see your pitying eyes looking at her. She brushes your concern off, ensuring you that it's okay, it was her mistake for not asking you about your relationship status before making a move on you. She goes to her office, setting the bouquet of flowers aside. Grayson pours herself a glass of whiskey, she got the bottle as a gift as she herself has never been a fan of the drink. But she figures that the strong taste of alcohol is better than the taste of rejection, which still lingers in her mouth.

It feels as if all the walls that CASSANDRA tore down in order to make herself vulnerable to you have built themselves back up. The change in her expression, from soft and lovesick to a diplomatic and cold one, was instant. The only words she uttered to you were: ''I see. My apologies then.'', before she turned around and retired to her chambers. Cassandra sat at her vanity, slowly taking off her jewelry and gloves, barely even noticing the tears making their way down her cheeks. She looked at herself in the mirror and scoffed at her display of weakness before lowering her head in her hands. Her mask crumbled and Cassandra found herself sobbing at her vanity until the dead of the night, her heart aching at the realization that she could never have you. Well, you were never hers to begin with.

While AMBESSA can seem like someone who cannot take no for an answer, with you it's different. Ever since she started having feelings for you, she had sworn to herself that she will do right by you and change. She wanted to be worthy of your love and show you that she is capable of upholding a romantic relationship. Well, turns out all her efforts were for naught. Your heart belonged to someone else. Someone that wasn't her. She gave you a silent nod, her gaze avoiding yours, and left, needing to be alone for a while. Probably has a small outburst of rage like Sevika before sitting down and hanging her head in defeat. All of a sudden, none of the victories nor the riches meant anything to Ambessa. None of it was worth it if she didn't have you to share it with. Oh, how stupid she was...

a/n: oof, this one hurt! i originally intended to take a bit of a break, but here i am, hope you like this <3 thank you anon for sending it in :)

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

To find one to dance to the Devil’s call was a rare thing, but you found your match in the least expected place.

The only problem? A small, little girl that was determined to never let her new friend forget that she was home, too.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ୨୧ DILF!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ 2.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ୨୧ Fluff, domesticity, pancakes are a love language, heated kissing, implied adult discussion (doesn't actually happen in the fic), very light angst (anxiety)

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ୨୧ The awaited sequel is here! ୨୧ I think it's a very possible eventuation that I am addicted to writing this smug, arrogant, son of a— ୨୧ A very big thank you to @smutconnoisseur for being my soundboard for this fic, and for helping me make the ending the best it could be — I am so damned grateful.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ୨୧ older by Isabel LaRosa ୨୧ Lose Control by Teddy Swims

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Mutual Pining (March), Domestic (April) — Masterlist

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were slow to wake the next day. The sun had not yet started to bleed through the curtains on the opposite side of the room — it couldn’t have been any later than sunrise, you hoped. 

The night before had been one hell of a shock to your system, and you could still feel Bucky’s lips ghost over yours if you just thought hard enough; or how his voice lowered to a tenor that shook you to your core. All night you dreamed of more, chasing that forbidden high he supplied wholly and fully — a willing and far more enthusiastic half to your own. 

Naturally, there were going to be obstacles and challenges to navigate to the possibility of a relationship — one of which you could hear parading up and down the hallway with fast, little footsteps. 

After Starlet’s pressing interrogation while you readied her for sleep — a surprise that she (impressively) cornered you with — that it may be more of a smooth reveal than you could hope for, but still, nerves boiled and bubbled in your stomach, clinging to your insides like glue.

No point delaying it any longer, you thought, and you threw the mountain of covers off of your body. Though the indiscernible noise of the plush mattress moving underneath your sleep-stiff body was a siren call for small ears, fortunately, or unfortunately. 

The door creaked open just as you lifted your head off of the pillow, and a figure, their head no taller from the floor to the handle, peered inside. “Hello?”

You blinked and sat up further. “He– Oof!”

In a blur of stripes and polka dots and a tangle of hair, you were knocked back onto the mattress with two thin arms around your neck. “Fawn! You’re here! Did you st– Why are you here? Did daddy let you sleep–?”

“Let her wake up, baby,” a deep voice said from the doorway. It neared as they said, “And I told you, no playing upstairs.” The weight moved from your front to your side, and you saw a toothy, bright grin that could belong to no other than Starlet. “There she is.”

You looked to the side and saw Bucky standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. He wore a dark cotton shirt and grey sweatpants while his hair lay loose and mussed. Every last comprehensible, coherent thought fled your mind and pooled in your stomach, and Bucky knew as such — the blue of his eyes darkened with a knowing glint, turning them stormy grey. 

Get it together, you intoned — outwardly, you said with a rasp, “Well, good morning to you two.”

“Good mornin’, Fawn,” Bucky said, beaming down at you. “Did you get some sleep, love?” The weight on your side pressed harder while Bucky spoke. 

“Good, good, good morning,” Starlet sang, her smile as wide as her father’s. 

A light laugh flowed with your words, “Yeah, I slept well, really well, thank you. Wait– Do I smell–”

“Breakfast! Daddy started it already because he is the best.” Bucky put a hand over his heart and inclined his head, before dramatically wiping a non-existent tear. Starlet shook your shoulder to get your attention and said, “Do you like coffee? I can press the big button on daddy’s machine for you!”

“Sure, honey,” you said, and before you could offer to help her down from the bed, she took off like a shot towards the door and down the hall. “Well, that went better than I could have hoped…”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, then he looked at you; a piercing stare that rooted you to the spot. “You feelin’ okay, baby?”

You gulped. “Y– Yeah, I am, are you?”

There was a beat of silence, the tension mounting by the second, when Bucky rounded the end of the bed to stand right next to you. His hand brushed the side of your neck, then his thumb lifted your chin. 

“Never been better, Doe,” he murmured, and he leaned close to kiss you softly. It was a fleeting, chaste brush of lips, but it didn’t fail to stir up the heat that had been left simmering from the night before. “We’ll talk later, but come down and get some breakfast, okay?”

“Okay,” you managed, though it sounded more like a wheezed gasp than a reply. “I– uh–” You cleared your throat and sat up more. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Bucky’s lips, and he nodded when a yell from downstairs echoed up the well, “Daddy!”

Bucky sighed and turned towards the door. “What?” he called back. 

“I wanna give Fawn one of my cups for her big girl drink!” You snorted a laugh while Bucky walked towards the door. 

“Starlet Barnes, I swear to Gramma Winnie that if you’re up on that damned stool–” His voice trailed away while he made his way down to stop his daughter from injuring herself. 

The covers came away with a rustle, and you moved to stand up and stretch. 

The adjoining bathroom to the guest bedroom was just as opulent as you could have expected — marble tiles lined the floor, and some type of gleaming tile decorated each wall. It was coloured with deep, moody tones, and as you fiddled with the shower, steam billowed through the room. 

You took a deep breath, letting the steam fill your lungs. The racing thoughts slowed as soon as the water pelted against your skin, a soothing pattern that allowed you to distance yourself from the worries of what was to come. “It’ll be okay,” you murmured to yourself, cupping your face in your hands. “It will be okay.”

After some time passed, you stepped out from the guest room, dressed in a set of clothes Bucky left for you. It was a shirt, and a pair of soft, worn slacks — they were beyond comfortable, and you yawned as you began to make your way to the stairs. 

But you froze as you reached the top of the stairs. Bucky was talking quietly, his voice soft. “Don’t bombard the poor girl, baby.” The scrape of utensils on a plate echoed, and then the drag of porcelain over tile. “She’s stressed—can’t have any more on her shoulders, can we?”

You leaned forward over the balustrade to look down into the kitchen. From your vantage point, Starlet was sitting on a tall stool and Bucky was next to her, cutting up her pancakes with care. 

The distance made it hard to discern the quiet words that Starlet uttered, but you caught them, nonetheless. “Can I make her a picture, daddy?”

Bucky beamed at his daughter. “‘Course you can, honey. I think Fawn would love it; she might even stick it on her fridge at home–”

“But home is here; she’s staying here isn’t she–?”

“Uh–” Bucky’s voice was strained, dumbstruck with the implicit question not unlike the interrogation you survived through by the skin of your teeth the night before. “Honey… I, uh– Fawn–”

“But you smile a lot when she’s around,” Starlet insisted. 

There was no air, you couldn’t pull any into your lungs; it was sapped from the atmosphere, vanished without a trace to leave you reeling at the top of the stairs. “Shit,” you muttered. 

After a long moment of silence, where you could physically watch the gears turn in Bucky’s head on how best to assuage and sate his daughter’s curiosity and downright accurate observations, he spoke. “I know, baby. Fawn is very special to me; she’s kind, she’s funny, and she’s very pretty. But you’re my priority, Starlet—always will be. 

His thumb brushed her small chin, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “She takes good care a’you and that’s what’s most important.”

You could almost hear the unspoken undercurrent of meaning in his words, and it made your stomach flip. 

However, nothing could have prepared you for what Starlet said next. 

“She makes you happy, daddy,” she said, almost a whisper. “I like seeing you smile—uncle Steeb said it’s important to be happy.”

“Oh,” you gasped, and your hand flew to cover your mouth. Tears from overwhelming tides of emotion flocked your lash line, blurring your vision. 

“I guess it is, honey,” Bucky said softly. 

It took a long while to gather your senses while you stood on the balustrade, hand still clutching the stair rail for support. The powerful waves of emotion battered against the walls you had so weakly placed around your heart, and in your own disbelief, you wondered how this could have happened so fast — not long ago you were holed up in your apartment looking for work when you stumbled upon that advertisement. You jumped at the chance, and it landed you here, in a position where you were stuck between a rock in a hard place. 

To confess and ruin your prospects for your job but possibly gain something so much more or keep your thoughts to yourself and pray that it fizzled on its own. 

And even then, you knew you were asking for a miracle; that kiss still lingered in your mind, overshadowing your waking thoughts with more than inappropriate fantasies of just how experienced he was. 

You shook your head, willing the thoughts to quieten down, at least until after breakfast — Bucky said the two of you could talk about that kiss. That would be the time to find answers, you reasoned. 

Slowly, you took the stairs one by one, sure to make yourself heard and known. The living room and kitchen was flooded with natural sunlight that streamed through the trees that lined the edge of the property, and on the edge of the counter closest to you was a bouquet of white roses, wrapped in white cellophane. 

Bucky looked up from his daughter’s plate and smiled widely as he took you in. The softness of his eyes made your heart ache; a yearning to stride forwards and embrace him. “They’re for you, Fawn,” he said, nodding to the roses. “Little miss Starlet helped me pick ‘em out for you—as a thank you,” he added as you tilted your head in confusion. “Had ‘em delivered this mornin’.”

“You didn’t have–” You started, but Starlet began to fuss. 

“And I did a little picture,” she gushed, pointing at a small piece of paper placed carefully between the numerous bulbs. 

“She did,” Bucky agreed. 

You smiled, just a twitch of your lips, and you walked towards the arrangement. The roses were in full bloom, their beauty bewitching and soft, tender — just like the love you held for the pair in front of you. “They’re beautiful,” you whispered, touching the outer ring of petals with the pad of your index finger. 

The crayon drawing depicted a princess between a knight and a queen, their gowns flowing in a rainbow of colours, and the knight’s armour gleamed white from the imaginary sun in the top corner of the paper. You looked towards Starlet and smirked. “And now I have a perfect addition for my fridge.”

Starlet positively beamed with pride. 

A plate loaded with an assortment of breakfast foods replaced the bouquet, and you glanced down — Bucky cooked each morsel to perfection, and you couldn’t help but feel your mouth water from the aromas that spliced the air. Complex notes of browned butter and sugar mixed with the heady, salted scents that could rival a five-star restaurant. 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Buck–? Were you a chef?”

Bucky laughed and hung his head, and to your surprise, a blush started to bloom over his cheekbones. A few strands of loose hair fell from behind his ears, and you felt faint with the need to tuck them back, while also conflicted with the lust to run your fingers through it from root to tip and pull.

“I’ve been around for a while, honey,” he chuckled, throwing a hand towel over his shoulders. His hands held the edge of the counter, and he leaned forward, pushing his weight onto his wrists to make his biceps bulge — it was an effort to focus only on his face. “Learned a lot, all that sh–” His gaze snapped to a preoccupied Starlet who happily ate her pancakes while swinging her feet. “Sugar.”

You snorted a laugh and shook your head. “I can imagine.” 

The three of you tucked in and finished breakfast with little incident — Starlet determinedly rambled on about how many new drawings she was going to complete that afternoon, all while Bucky encouraged her and poked into her ideas with a cheeky, mischievous nature. It was no wonder that Starlet caught on and stared at her father with narrowed eyes. 

“I’ll show you,” she huffed, and she pushed the empty plate away towards him. “May I be excused?”

“Yeah, baby, you go get what you wanna show me,” Bucky said smoothly, picking up the plate. “Fawn and I will be here waitin’.”

Starlet dashed off with her unparalleled enthusiasm, and you looked back towards Bucky to start a pleasant conversation, when the words died on your tongue. The blazing want in his once cerulean eyes had vanished behind the inky black of his pupils, and his eyes were darting back and forth from your eyes to your lips, where they lingered. 

You watched, enraptured, while his tongue ran over his bottom lip. “I– Hmph!”

His lips collided with yours while his left hand cupped your jaw, his right pawing at your waist. Your feet stumbled clumsily backwards, only able to go where he put you, and your back hit the fridge door. The force of it made the appliance rattle. 

It didn’t deter you from giving him your all — the raw passion behind the kiss fueled the simmering fire into an inferno, the heat of it lapped up your spine and wrapped around every last nerve. 

“Shit,” Bucky hissed against your lips, pulling back to gasp for air. “I couldn’t resist any more, baby—can’t fuckin’ get enough a’you.”

Desperation clawed at your insides when you realised you were in the damned kitchen of all places, and Starlet would be back at any second. “Shut up and kiss me,” you demanded.

Bucky growled low in his throat and surged forwards, claiming your lips again only to nip at your bottom lip with his teeth, soothing it over with his tongue. Your fingers wound through his loose hair that fell to his neck, the softness a luxury you couldn’t help but need more of — you pulled and revelled in the hitch of breath against your lips, the way his hips bucked forward. 

A small moan vibrated your throat, and he grew more insistent, demanding in his fervour. It was only when he pulled back to mouth open kisses down your neck did you hear him groan with need. “Fuckin’ need you now, Doe.” 

“Yes, yes,” you panted. “Fuck, please–” 

Small, fast footsteps came from the loft above the kitchen and Bucky hung his head, his forehead landing on your collarbone with a heavy sigh. “Fuck, I need you.”

You blinked and shook yourself inwardly. “I– Fuck, yeah, me too.”

Bucky pulled away from your body with a thoughtful frown. “I want you.”

The way your heart lurched into your throat from your chest was almost painful, and you gulped around it. “I– Oh, god.”

“I jus’ wanna get a feel of where your head’s at, yeah?” he said softly. “I need to make sure that you want this as much as I do.” 

“That– Yeah, I do, I really, really do–” You tried, furiously working your throat to swallow, though your mouth was dry.

Bucky smiled and squeezed your waist with his hand, and he pecked you on the lips before he pulled away. “Don’t you worry, baby. I want you here with me, and with her.” He nodded towards his approaching daughter, who was occupied with carrying rolls and rolls of paper. “I know she does too.”

The words, while they were whispered against your lips, they came with a promise, one that entailed your whole future.

Starlet’s excited tone pulled you from staring into Bucky’s eyes, and you smiled as she held up some of the rolls of paper for you to take. “Come on, Fawn,” she rushed, giggling. Her small hand grasped yours, and then pulled you along. 

Deep, rasped laughter came from behind you, and you looked over your shoulder to see her father watching the two of you with bright eyes; a glint of adoration in them that made the blue of his irises so much deeper. 

“I want you,” he mouthed, and he inclined his head to look at you, then he turned into the kitchen to supposedly grab his cup of coffee. 

“What’s taking you so long?” Starlet asked, indignant. She stood to your side with her nose scrunched in annoyance — an expression you knew she inherited from her father. “I have these to show you and daddy.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, sweetheart,” you soothed, squeezing her hand. 

She took the assurance and dashed away. You watched her as she guided you towards the couch in the living room, and you heard heavy footsteps behind you — Bucky was following slowly. 

“Honey, please don’t pull her arm off,” he teased, and Starlet only huffed. “We need her, remember? Who’s goin’ to let you stay up past your bedtime then, huh?”

You blinked. “That was not my fault–”

Bucky took a sip from his mug, smirking behind the rim. “I know all, I see all—can’t hide shit from me, baby,” he whispered, and he winked.

The narrow-eyed stare you sent him only made him laugh, and somehow, the sound soothed your worries, and you knew it was going to be alright.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[misc-obeyme]

Hello! I was hoping I could request the prompt: tome for Solomon, if it hasn’t been taken by the time I send this in. If so, no worries! Take care of yourself and have a great rest of your day, morning, or evening (depending on when you get this)! 😊

Hello!

Oof, I'm sorry for the delay on this, but I am getting caught back up on event requests now! Hopefully this didn't turn out too bad, I am still kinda fighting through the writer's block asdlkfjdkljf. BUT I love Solomon so he's easy to write for. Also I rewrote it because it was too long the first time, but it ended up getting even longer the second time. 😩 So I was like okay fine it's just gonna be what it's gonna be lol!

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt tome

Warnings: none!

Solomon's bookshelves had a unique organization system that only the sorcerer himself could navigate. Any time you had a question about magic that he didn't know the answer to off the top of his head, he went straight to the exact book he needed. He would flip it open to the right page almost effortlessly, as though he had read each book multiple times.

The more time you spent learning from him, though, the more you began to understand how the shelves worked. Parts of it were still a mystery to you, but you could always tell when he had bought several new things. You would check the titles out of curiosity only to find that most of them were in a language you didn't speak.

One day Solomon left you alone with the books as he went to find some potion ingredients. You did a cursory perusal of the shelves, eyes automatically drawn to the new additions.

You were surprised to find one you could read. It was about hexes and seemed to be at your level.

You put your finger on the top of it and tipped it back, pulling it off the shelf to land neatly in your hand. As you did this, though, another book that had fallen behind that one tumbled out.

You just managed to catch the second book before it hit the floor.

Which was a good thing because it was so thick you thought it might've cracked the section of floor it landed on.

You put back the first book and tried to hold this one, but you couldn't quite get your hands around it. You carried it to the table and put it down with a heavy thud.

It had no title. It was big and leather bound - black with a shimmer to it, like an opal. The page edges were shiny gold and sparkled slightly. There was a singe purple ribbon sticking out of the bottom, about halfway through the pages.

You pulled on the ribbon and opened the book to the page it had marked.

The pages were blank. You stared at the pristine white of them for a moment in confusion. Then you noticed some kind of writing on the other side of the left page. You flipped it and sucked in a breath.

It was Solomon's handwriting.

You frowned. Was this magical looking epic tome his diary or something? That didn't seem likely.

You felt a little guilty, but you had to know, so you flipped to the first page to see if you could figure it out.

There you found a small and messy sketch of yourself. Beside it were the words MC's Path to Sorcery. You smiled at the sketch. It was adorable and captured your likeness well.

You flipped through some more pages. There were diagrams of magic circles, lists of potion ingredients, descriptions of spells, and clear steps for earning your seven sorcerer stars. There were little notes beside these about you and how well you had learned each thing. They sometimes mentioned areas you needed to work on or had little suggestions for things to try next.

It finally dawned on you as you recognized everything outlined before you. These were lesson plans. This was Solomon planning out what to teach you and then documenting your success.

You found a few other things, too. A flower you had given him was pressed between the pages. A note you had left for him was taped in. A few more sketches and even a handful of pictures. Little mementos from moments you spent together. As if this book had begun as a way to record what he was teaching you, but had evolved to include memories of you as well.

You bit your lip. This was so cute and you found yourself struggling to fight back tears. But you didn't mean to find it and it didn't feel right to continue looking through something so private. You closed the book and put it back on the shelf before Solomon returned. Maybe one day he would tell you about it himself. Maybe you would eventually tell him that you knew about it. But for now, it was enough to know that he kept it here, snug on his shelves with the rest of his precious collection.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!