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#words tumbling out: positivity or reassurance
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just so we’re clear, i believe you
if you didn’t take pictures i still believe you
if you fought back i still believe you
if you yelled and kicked and screamed i still believe you
if you never told anyone i still believe you
if your abuser has more money and power i still believe you
if you’re “unlikeable” i still believe you
if you didn’t go to the doctor i still believe you
i still fucking believe you.
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chvoswxtch · 5 months
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taste
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pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: matt just wants a taste.
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
a/n: it’s thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of y’all. so, here’s a little treat from me to you bc I haven’t shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. 🖤
word count: 1.1k
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Matt lost track of how long he’d had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. He’d discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.
It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.
On his knees.
Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.
Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Matt’s nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.
Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. He’d never been so painfully hard in his life.
But Matt didn’t feel like he had earned a release yet.
Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.
Just one more, he told himself, then he’d finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.
Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didn’t ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.
Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasn’t gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.
He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then he’d die a happy man.
Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldn’t tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didn’t fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.
He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.
Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.
As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Matty…I can’t. I-God, I need a minute-“
The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.
“Matty…did…did you-“
“Yeah.”
He didn’t bother hiding it. He wasn’t ashamed. He’d be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.
A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.
“Hey! I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.”
“Sweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.”
Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.
“Maybe I’ll test that theory later, but right now, I’d rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
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yerion · 9 months
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(love) you.
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jungkook is shameless, especially when it comes to his lips. although you only want your lipstick to stain his lips, you find someone else’s; it’s a shame, because your shade would look prettier on him.
pairing : player!jungkook x art student!f-reader. au(s) : nevertheless!au. genres : mainly fluff, slight angst.
content : jungkook doesn’t date, but he still loves.
word count : 3,4k.
“did you do anything yesterday?” you ask as you observe jungkook get ready. at his usual delay, your gaze rolls flat onto the ground in disappointment, escaping the sight of jungkook fixing his hair in your mirror.
the couple of calls you made to him last night after gruelling moments of hesitation were all missed. you know he isn’t obliged to answer you, but for someone who’s been sleeping over at yours for countless nights, you anticipated a little more—just a little more attention.
“what was that?” jungkook then asks back absentmindedly.
“oh,” your gaze bounces up, knowing he’ll stare back once you reply. “were you busy yesterday?”
a lopsided smile flourishing on his lips, he turns his head to meet your expectant gaze. “i was at another gathering,” he answers. “you might know them, actually.”
“really?” a forced grin inevitably latches onto your features at his obliviousness. he talks as if he’ll invite you the next time he’s out, but the truth is that he won’t—more so if you know the people he’s planning to spend time with. 
the moment jungkook fixes the last of his stray hairs, he retreats from his own reflection to position himself next to you on the side of your bed. “were you waiting for me?” he whispers teasingly into your reddened ear.
“no,” you interject in embarrassment. “i was just—”
a knowing chuckle spills past his lips. “sorry,” he murmurs sweetly. “my phone was on silent.” you watch his doe eyes evaluate; in his mind, he’s calculating what would throw you out of these phases of disappointment. 
so he knew you called.
you shake your head profusely in dismissal. “don’t worry about it.”
at your reassurance, jungkook’s attention diminishes from the conversation. instead, he moves a hand close to your face, a finger delicately gliding across the lower lip before pressing down on it, causing your lips to separate and subtly spread apart. 
“hey,” your voice squeezes out muffled.
“can i find you after class today?” 
again, you’re found nodding at his suggestion. jungkook smiles at that, pleased with your compliance. he proves it to you by swiftly leaning forward, stopping mid-way just to catch you breathless before drawing close enough to capture your lips for a taste.
jungkook backs away with the sound of a subdued smooch, and you immediately sling yourself back and gasp dramatically in utter surprise. your eyes widen at jungkook who’s now grinning triumphantly. 
at times where you should be fighting for extremities, he never fails to render you silent. he works harmoniously with the prickly sensation that only emerges into prominence when he’s around.
“i’ll see you later.” he whispers softly.
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your head is peeking out and peering out to the distance while on your tiptoes expectantly. a sigh eventually tumbles out of your lips when another minute of nothing passes.
what are you waiting for?
you drop your head back, allowing the tide of disappointment to consume you as whole again. class ended an hour ago, and for jungkook, his class should’ve ended at a similar time to yours. 
you peer up, exhaling freely at the galaxy looming over you. it’s the brightest company there is, yet here you are, waiting for someone who only offers fractured promises. 
you don’t even know why you’ve devoted yourself to such shallow loving—he’s barely given you any signs of reciprocation, and deep inside, you know that—you’ve set yourself for detonation.
you begin to walk, breaking free from these hollow expectations embedded into your head. you leave any thought knotted with the remnants of jungkook in the air.
upon passing familiar buildings nearby, you coincidentally find someone who looks exactly like jungkook standing on top of a flight of stairs, melded majestically in flickering light. even with his back turned, the resemblance is uncanny. 
stealing a glance through your narrowed lenses, you struggle to see the rest of his façade after observing for minutes. the anonymous barely moved since. he isn’t alone, because you can see another pair of legs through the gap of his own. your perspective from the lower ground is helpful in that sense.
then slight movement—you watch the mysterious guy randomly lean forward, naturally revealing more of the other person with him at this hour. 
it’s a girl—a girl in your practical class. 
now the mystery unveils; a fervent sensation pinches parts of your heart when you notice that the guy is in fact jungkook. 
without giving you a second to breathe, he inches closer to plant a chaste kiss onto her lips. you’re unconsciously counting the seconds of their intimacy like a psychopath even with the aggravating heated jabs in your chest. 
“jungkook?” she questioned, insolence apparent in her voice. “he doesn’t date.”
“he’s hot, but what’s the point when all he does is fuck around?”
you were warned.
you were seriously warned.
it’s you who chose this twisted fate for yourself.
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with the lamp on, you lay still in bed, gazing at the dimmed ceiling. the stuffy feeling in your chest simmered, but now you’re dealing with a bundle of sickening anxiety that claimed its spot in the depths of your stomach.
the sigh you release aligns perfectly with the noise of your doorbell chiming. mainly startled, you spring up, creasing the sheets beneath as you stumble towards the monitor connected to the camera on your door.
as if god is entertained by the thought of suffering from your self-inflicted consequences, your breath hitches and your tongue tangles at jungkook’s spontaneous advent. 
oh god.
through the fuzzy quality of the monitor, you feast your eyes on the rare moments of him waiting for you; for you to open up and embrace the danger he emanates like the scent of his fresh cologne.
that ultimately provokes you to push open the door. your frustration towards your own self is immeasurable, but there’s no cure for lovesickness. deadpanning, you raise your head, feeling a draft of wind caress your face before finding jungkook’s indifferent eyes. 
“you’re ridiculous.” in all sorts of ways, jeon jungkook.
however all he does is let his eyes roam, allowing him to explore the elusive details of your body. averting his gaze from your eyes, he then stares at your lips, the curves of your neck before overtly pausing at your bare collarbones.
your jaw drops ajar the moment you decipher the true meaning behind his stare; you’re in nothing but your pyjamas—a tank top and shorts.
“have you eaten?”
brows collapsing into a tenuous frown, you shake your head adamantly. “no,” you shut down. “i wasn’t hungry.”
“still,” jungkook sighs out loud as he places his palm against your forehead, checking your temperature for his sake. “i don’t want to think about you getting sick again—”
you immediately grab ahold of his wrist, tearing his hand away from you. “come in,” you mutter. “i want to talk to you.”
jungkook steps in, automatically stopping in front of your closed door instead of entering further. “i’m listening,” he says knowingly. “tell me anything.”
you inhale, voluntarily stopping yourself from breathing at his sweet offer. “why do you make me wait?” you confess. “am i that easy?”
jungkook raises an aggressive brow, offended by your accusation. “it’s not that.”
“i saw you on the way home.” you cut in determinedly. “i didn’t mean to, but i saw you with someone else.”
“why does that matter?” 
of course.
this is the type of person jungkook is.
“is it the kiss you’re worried about?” jungkook takes a step forward deliberately, naturally causing you to trip backward until your shoulders are harshly pressed against the wall, trapped under his piercing gaze.
shooting a pained glare at him, you scoff inwardly. “so you do know.”
jungkook looks away as he sighs frustratedly. “it wasn’t anything special.”
“that makes you even worse.”
“if it didn’t mean anything to me, you should be caring less about it.” 
jerk.
you scoff in a series as you brush your hair back angrily. “that’s clearly not the point here.”
“then what is?”
he’s right.
what is the point of arguing when you’re the reason behind this heartbreak?
you knew this.
you had this coming.
“forget it.” you exasperate bitterly, “what can i say as someone who isn’t important to you either?”
“that’s not it.”
“then who am i to you?” 
“someone different to me.” he answers vaguely. “you’re the only person i enjoy being with.”
his words take you aback, inducing heat to reside in your body again in unease; it melts down your next words lingering on the tip of your tongue.
“how about you?” jungkook asks deeply. “how do you feel about me?”
“i don’t know how to feel about—”
“should we let it go then?” his hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin in tender strokes. “one word from you, and i’ll stop.”
you’re anxious; you’re frightened in case this might be the last.
jungkook is a paradox you can’t seem to grasp. behind your back is a world that carries his name; your mind searches for him in a cloud of cigarette smoke and a garden full of butterflies.
you’re afraid that’ll torment you; it’d kill you to think there was once a possibility to make that all into bliss.
because after all this time, no one’s ever been as magnetising as him.
fuck it.
tilting your head upward ever so slightly, you lean into plant a gentle kiss on his lips. you resign from the kiss quicker than usual; avoiding eye contact and turning your head to the side. 
“are you sure?” jungkook questions.
“i’m not.” 
oblivious to the silence, your gaze flickers, unsure of what to do next to relieve the tension. your blood surges, heightening the warmth in your cheek, making it known to jungkook’s fingertips.
wordlessly, his hand falls, instead it finds your jaw; he holds the end of your chin, steadily turning your head back to him.
your heart begins to race at a speed you’ve never felt; hard thumps thrash against your ribcage. there’s butterflies pedantically fluttering in your stomach, probably alarmed by the brute force of your heart.
“are you busy tomorrow?”
you simply shake your head.
“spend it with me then.” 
“don’t you have class tomorrow?”
“i’ll just miss it.” jungkook draws in, shortening the space between your bodies before pulling in for a kiss harsher than yours. your eyes shut at his eager lips, arms instinctively finding its way to hook around his neck.
this is… fine—right?
before your shoulders can ram any harder against the wall, he fluidly slips his arms under your thighs, carrying you high against his chest. not only does it grant you the room to fully loop your arms around his neck, but it brings you dangerously near, offering you the option of fuelling the fiery kiss.
when he perches you on top of your own kitchen counter without giving your lips a rest, you fall back into his arms, curious to see the expression he has on for you.
jungkook tilts his head in wonder. “is this my first time seeing you with your hair tied up?” he smiles slyly, stiffening his grip around your waist.
“oh—” your hand frantically rummages for the hair tie buried in your hair. once you grab it, you slide it off in a panic, knowing it wasn’t your best job. you accidentally left it in and tossed around in your bed. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“what was that for?” he cracks into an airy chuckle. “now i can’t say you look gorgeous.”
you purse your lips teasingly. “can’t you still?”
“but with your hair down—” he purposely tips into the curve of your neck to breathe against your ear, sending you continual waves of electricity. “—you’re something else.” 
you smack his shoulder with a tough blow. “give me a break,” rolling your eyes sarcastically, you huff out a small pout. “i had enough of your vague words today.”
“yeah?” jungkook hums, “i’ll leave it to your imagination then.”
“very funny.”
“should we eat something?” jungkook coaxes in a whisper.
you side-eye the clock. “it’s so late, but…” you trail off. “this is the best time to eat.” 
“that’s what i like to hear.” 
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“you did what?”
“please, don’t be so loud!” a girl hushes her friend beside her. 
the ruckus lured your gaze to lift. it’s how you envisioned—just two girls procrastinating on their due work and relaying updates of each other’s lives on the weekend. you simply nod alone in understanding, gradually letting your attention pan back to your painting. 
“come on!” a burst of laughter escapes the friend’s entire body. “jungkook came over to yours on saturday?”
inevitably, your whole existence comes to a complete stop at the sound of his name slipping out of someone else’s mouth. your finger buffers, causing your brush stroke to deviate elsewhere, abandoning a permanent red stain on a place you wanted uncoloured.
“shut up.” she stresses behind clenched teeth. “people are going to hear.”
you’ve seen and heard about him kissing people heartlessly, but a story about him staying over at another girl’s house is not only just breaking news, but something you weren’t mentally ready for.
“who cares!” she cackles hysterically. “it’s not like anyone here had the same amount of romance as you with him.”
“romance?” the girl groans knowingly. “as if he does any of that.” she sighs in sheer disappointment; a sound you thought you could only make regarding him. “i fucking wish.”
“we need to talk more about what the two of you did after class.” 
the girl dunks her paintbrush back into a can of dirtied water. “where should we go?” she giggles enthusiastically. “my house?”
“ew,” her friend screeches. “without knowing what the fuck you two did in there?”
“shut up!”
lost in a world that now feels uncomfortably fuzzy, you suddenly jolt at a random vibration in your pocket. your phone alarms you of what feels like a new text. with a half absent mind, you take the phone out of your jeans for a dire distraction.
[jeon jungkook] 14:22.‘you’re finishing soon.’
[jeon jungkook] 14:23. ‘i’m coming to see you. let’s get lunch together?’
14:23. ‘sure.’
unlike him, he matched the time perfectly to invite you for lunch. it’s only minutes before your two-hour long recreational class ends, and all you’re taking to the future is an unerasable and disastrous story caused by a single mention of his name.
you’re pathetic.
of course, it’s from here onward, time loses its power against you. it always has, especially if it’s anything related to jungkook. though you’ve thoughtlessly accepted to be the extra company he can unconditionally ask for, you decide to remain seated in an emptying classroom, stupidly waiting for him to notice your wretched choice to rebel against him for the very first time.
this is who you’ve become—a person craving nothing but short-lived attention from someone who gives you bruises like presents.
“found you.”
there he is.
“not hungry again?”
your eyes stay grounded and your lips remain sealed in thinking. eventually, you feel a breath caress your ear, sending a frigid shiver down your spine. it wakes you up, triggering your gaze to shoot towards the beautiful yet menacing cause—jungkook.
flustered, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you totally lost your equilibrium. “i was distracted,” you mutter. “what did you say?”
“i’m complaining because you didn’t let me court you today.” jungkook replies smoothly. “did you change your mind?”
court you? 
“a little.” you answer vaguely, still uncomfortable to face the truth.
“i’m a little hurt.” jungkook jests softly. “i missed you.” he casually drags out a spare seat beside you to sit on. “how about you?”
missed you?
you look fixedly at his attractive uneven grin. “more than you did.”
“really?” his eyebrows raise in contentment. “are you sure you’re not more interested in the masterpiece you’re working on than a date with me?”
a date?
with your head lowered, you sigh deeply. “let’s drop this.” you propose abruptly. “let’s drop it before i start to annoy you with my feelings.”
“is that the reason?” 
“it’s the reason and the problem.” you turn back to jungkook, facing him through your seat aligned with his. “so let’s not see each other like this after today.”
he seems taken aback, speechless—almost.
“the reason and the problem is that i started to care about who you meet and kiss.” you confess. “and that shouldn’t happen between you and i.”
you knew all this time.
“because that’s a break of your rules.” your sick rules of seeing people without strings attached.
jungkook avoids your gaze by looking to the side. though not visible and barely audible, you can pick up the muted sound of his breath that’s longer than usual. you watch his eyebrow piercing twitch in contemplation as your chest starts to carry weight again. it feels heavy inside; it’s no longer a foreign feeling to you, but something so familiar.
pushing yourself out of the stool, you set off a loud screech before standing on your feet upon securing enough room. “i won’t apologise for it.” you exhale strongly, “i won’t join you today.”
“don’t forget your painting.”
“you take it if you meant what you said before.” 
when you try to take a step further away from him, jungkook grabs ahold of your swaying wrist to stop you halfway. “do you mean it?”
“are you talking about the artwork?” you scoff lightly before clearing your throat awkwardly regardless. “i have to restart.”
“i meant your feelings.”
“what about it?” 
“are you actually taking me seriously?”
offended, you aggressively flick your wrist away from his grip. “you’ve never been a joke to me like i was to you.”
“you’re judging me way too quickly here.”
“then can i give you time to explain?”
at the end of your sentence, he’s silent to make his hand known to you again. his fingers clamp your wrist gently, grasping it in a way that brings you to feel baffled at the unfamiliarity. he’s completely defenseless with you, to the point it’s forcing you to think you could be the person to break him if you wanted.
your breath trembles in confusion as you blink profusely at jungkook’s sealed lips. your arm solidifies under his grip.
“are you alright with someone like me?” he asks softly while caressing your wrist with the pad of his thumb.
you watch jungkook’s eyes deepen in curiosity. “i wouldn’t be here if i wasn’t.”
“really?” jungkook cracks into an enigmatic chuckle, masking his insecurities. “i want to believe you so badly.” he mutters under his breath.
“jungkook,” you pronounce.
the lingering movement in jungkook’s fingers halt at the sound of his own name gently rolling off your tongue.
“how do you feel?” you spin the bottle back to him verbally. “did you stop me because you’re afraid you might be losing one of your many girls, or did you stop me because you mean it?”
“i feel like i’d miss you.”
“to that someone you’re planning to miss, you’ve been flirting whilst kissing different girls in front of her eyes.” you mutter back. “can you get back to her when you feel apologetic about that? because she likes you so much now, she can’t handle the sight of you being your usual self anymore.”
“can i let her know that this is my first time feeling like this?”
“feeling like what?” you ask hesitantly.
“i feel like you’re going to be my last thought every night if you go like this.” he answers. “and i don’t know for how long.”
“i like you, jeon jungkook.”
“i—”
you whisper, “and i think you like me too.”
“yeah.” 
turning towards his wrist, you take a step forward to close into his face. jungkook peers up to you from his seat in astonishment, however you simply reach out to press your fingertip against his bottom lip, wiping a darkened lipstick stain away in the opposite direction as an evident frown paints your softened features.
jungkook stares at your dirtied digit. “i’m sorry.”
“it’s okay.” you now reply softly in slight embarrassment. you talked with a bigger mouth than usual, which is a colour jungkook has never seen until today.
“is it?”
you shift your head to the side. “my shade would look prettier on you.”
“prove it.”
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axelsagewrites · 5 months
Text
Jace Velaryon*Frat Baby
Pairing: Jace x pregnant!f!reader
Word count: 1688
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Warnings: rivalry, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Masterlist Here
Part One Here
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Jace had went from being your sworn childhood enemy to fuck buddy to now the most awkward conversation of your life. You had been avoiding completely for the past month as you debated what to do so when Jace got the ‘we need to talk’ text he made sure he was free the next day for lunch. You were sat in a café across from campus, anxiously sipping on the caffeine-free tea Sansa had insisted you switch to instead of your regular coffee.
You wondered if the hole in your stomach was morning sickness or nerves but you just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best as you waited. Jace walked in, dressed like a burst bag of clothes, and anxiously scanned the room before rushing to your table. “You’re late,”
“Class ran over. have you ordered?” he said making you roll your eyes at his lack of apology as he ordered from the very perky waitress you were for some unknown reason suddenly jealous of. after he ordered, even ordering you your favourite sandwich which you were shocked he knew, he turned his attention back to you, “So what’s ‘Defcon one’?” he asked, quoting your text.
You took a deep breath as you debated how to say it before suddenly the words tumbled out, “I’m late,”
“I thought you didn’t have class today?” Jace asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy making you face palm. A few beats of silence passed before Jace said a quiet oh, followed by a louder oh, followed by a “oh fuck,” followed by one more quiet oh.
“You good?”
“I mean sure. Are you?” he asked, sitting up suddenly and leaning over the table and dropping his voice, “Does it like hurt?”
You stared at this frat boy for a solid three seconds before rolling your eyes, “I’m pregnant not dying!”
“I thought it hurt, okay?”
“It hurts later on,”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
“Highschool biology!”
“I ditched that week!”
“Yeah, to fuck Sara Snow!” the waitress who brought your food offer gave an awkward smile making you both sigh and drop your voice. “Look I get this isn’t what we planned for but,” you paused for a second before finally saying the words out loud, “I wanna keep it, him, her, them I don’t know. but either way I totally do not expect you do be involved and I wont even tell your mom but I- “
“Eh!” Jace cut you off, his eyes widening as his shoulders tensed, “No! you don’t get to just toss me aside during this,”
“I’m not tossing you aside- “
“Yes, you are! It’s my kid!”
“It’s a clump of cells,”
“My god damn cells. Half of them belong to me,”
“What you want me to stick em on a petri dish?” you spat out, “Look I’m just trying to give you an out,”
“Who said I wanted an out?”
“You wanna raise this baby?”
“Yes, I wanna raise *my* baby,”
“It’s my baby,”
“Our baby!” Jace said before sighing, “Look I’m not going anywhere and don’t for a second think I’m gonna leave my kid behind thinking I’m a dead beat. No this is what’s gonna happen- “
“You are in no position to tell me what to do- “
“Shut up!” Jace snapped, “Honest to god shut up and listen to me okay cause I am freaked the fuck out right now but I am not gonna abandon you,” he said and you weren’t sure if it was the foetus getting to your brain but it was the sweetest way he’d ever told you to shut up which would normally be met with a rude slap, “We are gonna do this together. I’m gonna get a part time job at my family’s firm. We’re gonna save like hell and then by the time our last year rolls around the baby will be like what? 3 months?”
“Two,” you said as you let Jace recover from his spiral.
“Right two. We’re gonna get a flat off campus and we’ll just have to pick our classes at the same time to make sure we can do it, okay?” he said but the way his eyes were strained made you wonder if he was genuinely asking for reassurance.
“We got this,” you said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “We’ll figure it out,”
Jace let out a heavy sigh of relief as he sunk into his chair and picked up his sandwich, “Okay good. Now eat up. And we’re getting dessert too. You’re eating for two,”
-
Shockingly Jace had been sweet this whole time. each day he dropped off snacks or random baby things he’d found at your dorm. This ranged from dummies to blankets to a fucking crib catalogue. When summer break came you were pregnant, terrified, and explaining to both your parents and Jace’s about the whole situation.
They were unpredictably happy. That was till you told them you weren’t a couple and your mums both deflated a little but eventually they got back with the programme. You expected Jace to lap up his final child free summer out partying but instead he took day trips with you to the beach, went out baby shopping with you, and would just sit in with you watching movies and eating ice cream. You wondered if he was trying to make you gain 100 sizes by the end of this pregnancy with the amount of junk food, he got you. he’d even drive over at 2am with whatever weird pregnancy craving you had.
The giving birth part was the terrifying bit. But Jace held your hand through every push. “Just one more,” the midwife told you as you began to break Jace’s hand with your grip but finally you heard the cries and let your head fall back into the pillow as you panted, “It’s a girl!”
“We have a daughter,” Jace grinned, a wide dopey smile on his face. His head turned to face you and soon you broke out in your own smile as they cleaned your baby up. You saw his head begin to dip but this kiss was far different from any other.
It was sweet and tender and life altering even if it lasted a second before the woman brought your daughter over and placed her on your chest, “Hi baby,” you cooed at her.
Jace leant over to get a better view, “She’s so pretty,” he whispered, “just like you,” he added as he kissed the top of your head, not even poking fun at the sweaty state of it.
-
Jace moved into the guest room at your house for the first week of your daughter's life but soon he ended up in your room. He said it was for convenience but that didn’t explain why he held you in his arms. As you began to unpack your things in your new flat as your baby slept you turned to Jace, “What are we?” you asked as he unpacked the plates.
He rolled his eyes at you as he put them in the cupboard, “My girlfriend you idiot,”
“You never asked,” you shot back, hand on hip.
He turned to you with his cockiest face possible, “Sorry I thought between the sex, cuddling, and baby we just had you would’ve caught on,”
“Uhuh,” you rolled your eyes as he turned away from you to continue unpacking but you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his back, “Ask me,”
You could hear him chuckle before he turned around, taking your face in his hands, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You grinned before putting on your best thinking face, “I suppose I could be,”
“You suppose,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he lent in to kiss you only to be rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. “I’m gonna kill him,” Jace groaned as he ran to the door to stop the noise, so the baby didn’t wake.
“What up bro?” Cregan whisper shouted as he hurled into your flat, “Where’s the baby?”
“She’s in the nursery sleeping,” Jace said, slapping him in the stomach as he mentioned the sleep.
Cregan rolled his eyes as he passed Jace and walked up to you with an overflowing gift bag, “Consider this a baby-welcome home-nice to meet you properly gift,” he said as he handed you the bag.
You laughed as you began to empty the contents onto the bunker to find university baby sized hoodies, t shirts, hats, and even a scarf. Of course, digging further in you found a soccer jersey, baby sized of course, rattles, and then your hand settled on a box. “Condoms?” you asked, holding the box in the air.
“Hey!” Cregan defended, hands in the air, “She’s cute and all but I’m not ready to be a double uncle. They’ll overtake me when I babysit,”
You and Jace turned to each other before looking back at him, eyes narrowing with concern, “Who said you were babysitting?” Jace asked.
Cregan just rolled his eyes as he began to wander and look for the nursery, “Bitch please she needs me. I’m the fun uncle,”
“You’re not her uncle?” you said as he reached the pink painted nursery door.
Cregan span round, hand on heart and hurt in his eyes, “Not cool man. She’s not just your guy’s baby. She’s basically the frat baby,”
You debated arguing more but watching Cregan, a built like a truck manly man, fawn over a baby no bigger than a doll was too cute to interfere with. You weren’t sure how you survived university with a baby and a Jace btu somehow with a lot of help from Cregan and Sansa who had become expert babysitters by now you managed. Some day you would have to explain to your daughter her parents were sworn enemies but not today. No today your daughter was three years old and teaching Jace to do Taylor Swift choreography with her so they could surprise you.
Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons
@aleemendoza2425-blog  @happinessinthebeing @bellstwd
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rodolfoparras · 6 months
Note
Gaz is just so pretty he gives the worst breeding kink ever like I NEED this man to have my kids
Cw: baby trapping, 18+
Okay but thinking about meeting Gaz in his recruit years and forming a mentor mentee relationship with him, but it’s clear that there’s something more going on between the two of you going by the longing gaze the lasting touches and the words spoken in a far less professional tone.
But because of the slight age gap along with the difference in ranks you decide to reject his feelings, sticking to only spending the nights with him before leaving in the morning,
Gaz never complained he’d take anything you were willing to give him, even if it meant a couple hours of tumbling around in the sheets.
That is until he finds out that you are planning to send him away, overhearing the whole ordeal while hiding behind the door to your office ,things were starting to get risky your relationship had started to be seen as something more than professional and your solution to the problem was to send him away to some other squad.
But Gaz isn’t having any of it, instead he decides to cook up a plan, solidifying it once you announce your decision to him.
He chooses not to take his birth control while spending night and day skewed onto your cock, taking load upon load til cum is trickling out his sopping cunt, all under the disguise that it’s for keeps sake, something he’ll miss while away.
But just as the day comes where he’s about to get sent away, he shows up to your office with a positive pregnancy test in hand and a faux look of worry painted on his face
It doesn’t take much for you to call off your previous plans, easily bringing him into your embrace while whispering words of reassurance.
For the first time ever he could see something other than desire swirling in your iris and he can’t help the smile on his face as his hand subconsciously caresses his stomach.
He’d done so much to earn your love and he’d finally gotten it.
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pseudowho · 5 months
Text
Infiltration, Chapter Three: Deadly Games
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Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.
*SMUT/NSFW/18+ BEGINS HERE*
A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.
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So do I just lie here and wait for him to wake up, or do I wake him up? you puzzled to yourself, hot and blushing, being tightly spooned by Kento. I didn't have him down as a cuddler, you pondered, reasoning to yourself that if this was going to make things awkward, at least it wasn't your fault.
As you considered your options, you tried to adjust your position, and were met with Kento's arms tightening around you, his nose burying deeply into your neck, and a gravelly, sleepy groan. You almost spontaneously combusted as you feel his hips press hard against your lower back.
Kento dreamt, of warm beaches, the sun high and hot in the sky. He took off his shoes and socks, throwing them further up the sandy plains, and stepped into the shallows. He knew he was in good company, but did not know from whom. The sun glowed down on him, his chest, hips and thighs so warm and he could stay here forever in bliss, but he felt wakefulness begin to roll over him, half-in and half-out of his dreaming. He reluctantly let the dream fade...but the warmth from the sun did not.
Taking a deep, slow breath through his nose, and inhaling a warm, soft morning smell, and your shampoo, the traces of your perfume, Kento smiled to himself, before--
"Uhm...Kento? Are you awake?" Kento's head snapped up, looking down at you in bleary-eyed alarm. Your eyes met, you blushing furiously, and his brain finally registered every part of your soft body in contact with his.
"Shit-- shit-- I'm so sorry, that was-- I'm not normally--" Kento tripped over his words, and so did you.
"No no honestly it's fine-- I mean it was nice-- no, not nice-- I just mean no harm done--"
Kento was laid on his front, face down in the pillow squeezed between his forearms, silent and stewing with embarrassment. You, sat up at this point, couldn't help but laugh at him, rubbing his shoulder gently and reassuring him through your blushes.
"Gosh Kento, if you needed a hug, you could have just said," and dodged, laughing, as he reached out to swat at you as you headed to the kitchen. Mortified, Kento waited for you to leave before jumping up out of your (our) futon, rolling it away neatly and locking himself in the bathroom.
Cold tap switched on, and splashing his face, Kento couldn't look into himself in the mirror, sure he'd receive more second-hand embarrassment just from his reflection. Plus, he had a more...pressing issue to manage, as his hand slipped down to squeeze his rigid cock through his pyjamas.
Did she feel that? She must have felt that--shit, he stewed, leaning against the sink, one hand clasping his mouth and jaw, and the other trying to squeeze his throbbing cock into submission. Stop being such a teenager, Kento.
Stripping, Kento switched on the shower, and stepped in, still throbbing, long and thick and trying to force filthy images of you out of his mind. He got absolutely nowhere, still feeling your plush arse against him, his arm squashing your breasts between you, your ear so close to his lips...would she have stopped me? His mind wandered lazily.
As the hot water tumbled down his back, Kento was lost in himself, face prickling with steam as he imagined, instead of leaning away from you, staying, pulling you closer. In his daydream, he took your earlobe between his teeth and lips, meticulously licking down your neck. He imagined you, surprised but open to his advances-- cute, he thought, as the you in his mind squeaked at his mouth on your neck.
Kento's hand, still gripped around his aching cock, had started to move now, stroking slowly, twisting a little at the tip, pink and already dripping pre-cum. A tiny voice in Kento's brain told him to stop, this is wrong, before another told him there's no way you're going to get through the day without this.
Kento imagined grinding his cock against your arse as he rid you of your pyjamas, his image of your body blurred, knowing he wouldn't be able to do it justice. You welcomed his advances with open arms, eyes glazed and pleading while he kissed his way down the contours of your body, lingering over every scar, every stretch mark, tracing his tongue along you, until his mouth settled between your legs. Kento clapped a hand over his mouth, suppressing a groan as he wondered on the sounds you'd make as he took your pussy into it, his tongue flicking forward against his fingers in imitation.
As his hand sped up, pumping himself furiously, pleasure crept through his thighs and lower back as he heard the wet slick of his hand against himself. His mind flashed frantically with images of you now; hands bound with his tie, tear-stained with pleasure as he bounced you on his lap in an office chair-- hair messy, Kento's fingers deep in it as he lifts you against his apartment wall when you get home from work, not even removing your skirt before he plunges his cock deep into you-- cumming deep inside your wet pussy as he pounds you into the mattress, your legs wrapped around him and--
Kento came hard, coughing and gasping behind his hand, now cupped over his mouth, as he caught his seed, overflowing from his fingers in hot, sticky spurts. Kento trembled as he felt his orgasm wash through him, slowly stroking himself a few more times, lubricating himself with his own cum, to release the last few weak spurts into his hand. Kento breathed heavily under the heat of the shower, releasing his hand while his cock softened and the water rinsed away the evidence of his total lack of self-control.
Post-nut clarity slowly ebbed into Kento, and he cursed himself quietly, mortified that he'd just jacked himself off like a teenager over you, totally innocent in all this, in the room next-door.
Drying himself, he realised, as his embarrassment deepened, that he had brought no clothes in with him. Wondering what the safest option was, he opened the door a crack, nose pricking with delicious smells from the kitchen, and called out to you.
"Sorry, I uh...forgot my clothes. Could you bring my suitcase?" You agreed, cheerfully dropping his suitcase at the door; he couldn't meet your eye as he glimpsed the satin edges of the pyjamas he'd just imagined ripping off your body to pleasure you.
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Finally dressed, and under control, Kento was, on the surface, his usual stoic self as he walked into the kitchen, facial expression always one nanosecond from 'pissed-off', to find you had made breakfast.
A stack of warm buttered toast, a pot of tea and one of coffee, two golden omelettes and a jug of juice sat on the table. Domesticity took Kento almost as far as lewd thoughts of you, and he looked at you with nothing short of adoration as you poured him a coffee.
"What fun it is to have a wife," you teased, sitting down and taking a bit of toast, "I think I want a wife."
"How many eggs did you put in this omelette? It's massive."
"All of them," you stated, "all of the eggs. Eat up."
Straightening his tie to stop himself from looking flustered, Kento sat down and started on his omelette. "They left us food?" he asked, pausing-- the omelette was fluffy, buttery, cheesy. Oh, I'm in too deep, sulked Kento to himself, appalled by being so basic that he was won over breakfast. You hummed affirmingly, blowing steam off your tea, trying to conceal how deeply heartwarming you would find it to enjoy breakfast like this every day with Kento.
"Well, there's no money here, just credits for us to use at the little village shop. No phones either obviously." You both wiggled your pagers at each other, hidden in your clothes, your method of calling out to Jujutsu High if and when you needed help.
"A little vintage even for you, Kento."
"Yes, well...hard to smuggle a carrier pigeon into a place like this." Kento's heart leapt as you laughed, wanting to make you laugh more.
You discussed your plans for the day- namely, village exploration and general reconnaissance before the group dinner that evening. You discussed Kento's combat plan for the spar with the new cult members, knowing you wouldn't be asked to fight as a non-combatant cursed-technique wielder.
"I'll be up-front with my abilities, without killing anyone," he mused out loud, legs crossed and hands folded over his knees, "there's a good chance they'll know if I'm holding back. It may lay me out as a...target, though, I suppose. The Curse-user jujutsu world is competitive, I hear." You nodded, tea steaming your glasses again, very obviously worried about Kento.
He reached over the table, swiping steam off your glasses, and looked directly at you, "I'll be fine," he assured you again, to your cynical head tilt, "Unless they've got some filthy Special Grade, or someone whose technique is a poor fit for mine, I'll be safe. And if it's too much, we'll get out." Or, I'll get you out, at least, he thought.
Eyes narrowed, it was like you'd read his mind, "Either we both get out, or neither of us get out, Kento. You're not dying here for me like some bloody hero." Kento stared you down, his mouth set in a grim line- you knew your arguments fell on deaf ears. Stubborn old goat, you sulked.
You stood, starting to collect the plates, and Kento placed his hands on yours, stopping you.
"Go and get ready. You made breakfast, I'll clean up. We've got a busy day ahead of us...darling."
You scooted out of the kitchen as fast as you could, heart thumping, and completely unable to work out if Kento felt the same for you as you did for him.
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Kento waited for you outside of your little house, taking in the village around him. The houses, several dozen of them, stepped down the shallow mountainside amongst forest, nestled between tall trees. A tiny wooden bridge arched over a babbling brook, the mountain waters clear and cool, and the rest of the village wound away through the trees. Everything was meticulously tidy, even for Japan, and not a single piece of pale grey gravel and coiffed grass seemed out of place. It is beautiful, he pondered, such a shame it belongs to a hideous murderous cult.
Kento considered the questions he wanted answered; who or what was at the root of the group, commanding the power? How did they weed that out to make disbanding the cult easier? And how many of their members were outside the grounds at present, taking part in illicit activities? Kento knew you'd have to infiltrate the central group quarters to gather most of this information, his stomach sinking to know that you were going to be doing some of that alone. While he stood in the chill breeze, his heart stuttered as you stepped out of the house, and Kento realised he never got to see you outside of work clothes.
Skipping down the steps to Kento, your smile warmed him through, and as he smiled softly back at you, your stomach did somersaults. Kento held out his hand to you. You hesitated, and, reaching out, you squeaked as Kento intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you in close to him. Play the game, his eyes said to you, and, blushing, you swung your hand in his, beginning to talk openly with each other about how beautiful the village was, and how happy you were to be there.
Shoes crunching on the frosty gravel, you made your way up to the centre of the village.
"Oh my god," you gasped. The village seemed...entirely self-enclosed. Quaint shops, hairdressers, and even a tea-room you noted, lined a little street, early in the morning but already bustling with people and activity. You and Kento walked through slowly, politely introducing yourself to passers-by. You knew the Cult had already grown to be several-hundred members strong, but seeing them in person made you realise how many lives were at stake in your mission.
You and Kento spent a day together which, considering your mission, had no right being as pleasant as it was. You watched deer together in the forest, talking with a nearby gardener about the origins of the Cult. You enjoyed a quiet lunch in the tearoom, listening to the old ladies at the counter gossip about some of the Cult's members. Kento carried you on his back across the river stones while you squealed for him not to fall in, drawing the attention of several other young couples, silently beckoning them to you to harvest more information. You bought Kento a new scarf- he tried it on, flustered, and bought you one to match, the old lady at the shop wittering about how nobody else likes her traditional knitwear these days.
As the afternoon drew in, with the sun beginning to slowly set, you shivered, heart racing when Kento put his arm round you and pulled you close to him. Feeling, as a team, much more informed about the village and its occupants, you headed back to the house.
Stepping through your doors, clicking them closed behind you, your stomach sank as the pretence fell away, and you and Kento were friends and colleagues again. You chastised yourself for being so ridiculous. But as you watched Kento take off his coat and shoes, you couldn't help but wonder what life with him could be like.
"So..." you began, needing to break the silence, "You noticed that everyone apart from the couples is much older, right?" Kento hummed his confirmation. "And the victims we know of, missing and dead...average age?"
"Almost all of them were 25 to 30 years old," Kento confirmed, "so they seem to value youth in their members and their victims for some reason."
You nodded, taking the information in slowly. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a wooden tab covered with engravings. Holding it up, you tossed it to Kento.
"I stole this from the teashop. It was outside their door. Every building had one, all the houses do too. Does it mean anything to you?"
Kento's clever fingers rolled the wooden tab around, assessing it from all angles, "Protective effigies?" he mused, "But against what? There's so much Cursed-energy here. Some of those couples out there had powerful levels. I worry it's hiding something not human from us."
You looked at him grimly. "I think I'd need to get in a little closer to convince someone to give me direct answers." You tended to be able to compel individuals to give you the information you sought, with your Cursed-technique, rather like how Inumaki could use Cursed-speech. Kento nodded, sagely.
"At dinner tonight...you network, while I spar. I'll keep the attention on me." You nodded, putting the kettle on, plan of action agreed.
Kento wandered off to the living room, and you called out to him.
"What's the dress code again?"
"Black tie."
Ah, shit, you thought, your mind already lost on Kento in a tuxedo.
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Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you felt obscenely self-conscious in your dress, which felt far sexier than it had when you packed it. Slinky, with cleavage and thigh exposed, you felt mortified to stand beside Kento, this sculpture of a man, and had a sinking feeling of inadequacy. Normally, you'd just stay home if you didn't feel up to a social event, but this wasn't an option tonight. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you adjusted your necklace before appraising yourself once more in the mirror. It will have to do.
You opened the door to Kento stood directly on the other side, fist raised to knock at the door. Your eyes met, and Kento's face remained completely neutral as you took each other in.
Gorgeous.
Blushingly, you tiptoed out of the bathroom, trying not to make a fool of yourself in your heels which suddenly felt far too high. You could hardly concentrate, Kento all of a sudden looking like James Bond, glasses-free and commanding the room in his tuxedo, his cologne overwhelming your senses until it was all you could do to not undress him then and there. This man is a triple-threat and he doesn't even know it, you thought with absolute wonder. You hoped Kento couldn't sense how turned-on by him you were.
Seeing you dressed like this brought all of Kento's unholy thoughts of you that morning back to him, and he felt himself twitch inside his boxers. You're ridiculous, Nanami, he chastised himself sharply.
Watching you with crinkled eyes as you topped up your lipstick in the mirror, Kento gave himself a moment to fantasise about lipstick stains on his white collar, before holding a hand out to you. You placed your hand demurely in his, and stepped out into the night.
Later that night, as Kento held your battered and bruised body against his, his stomach filled with ice to realise how close to death you had come after only 24 hours in the village.
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The vast central courtyard of the Temple at the centre of the village had been turned into a twinkling oasis, roofless and open to the stars, and you and Kento both found yourself momentarily spellbound by its beauty. Fire pits and lanterns scattered around the winding sand and low sprawling shrubs, provided unexpected pools of warmth, on what was otherwise a cold night.
Offered tall glasses of champagne immediately on arrival, Kento pressed his to his lips, taking absolute care to drink nothing, and saw you were doing the same. Your clever eyes scanned the courtyard, taking in at least a dozen other couples, The Fathers with who you assumed were their spouses on their arms, and smartly-dressed wait staff. The courtyard area seemed too vast to house such an intimate gathering, until you noticed that at the centre, a sizeable square arena appeared to have been set up, probably for the sparring, you believed. Kento, too, drank in his surroundings, and you, whose commitment and professionalism he found deeply admirable.
Kento offered a bow to The Fathers, who approached with their spouses to make their greetings. You separated briefly from Kento, making your acquaintance with The Fathers' wives, who seemed perfectly ordinary. While idly chatting with these women, already bored at how the conversation had slipped so dully towards dress choices and jewellery choices, you overheard snippets of Kento's conversation with The Fathers.
"...all expected to get involved in the fighting of course."
"...wonder if we'll have any major casualties this year?..."
"...non-combatant Curse-users included?"
Your stomach clenched. Would you be expected to fight? While you could easily handle yourself against Curses of a Second-grade variety, your cover would be immediately blown if you suddenly transformed from Mrs.Tsuda, Kento's meek and mousey wife, into an experienced combatant who could use her Cursed-technique to wriggle her way through a great number of fights.
With a sinking feeling, you realised that to keep your cover, you would be forced to put yourself at the mercy of your adversary, and throw the fight. Kento had clearly realised this too, and, judging by how tight his jaw had become, how narrowed his eyes were, he was feeling as deeply concerned as you.
You stepped back together as the wait staff called the crowd over for dinner. Feeling bile rise in your throat, your hand desperately reached out alongside his body to gain purchase with his hand. Kento gripped yours, anguished, holding it tightly to his belly, afraid to let you go. Champagne now abandoned on a nearly table, he fingered the pager loosely in his pocket, wondering if he wished to call for help already.
I can't, he thought desperately, there are too many cult members here, and multiple more unlocated and located outside the complex. They'd scatter. The fight would be vast. It would be chaos.
But as he looked at you, trying desperately to conceal the fear on your beautiful face, he considered the failure of the mission to matter vastly less important to him than the loss or injury of you. Prepared to send the pre-agreed code for rescue on the pager, he noticed you shake your head almost imperceptibly. You looked into him as you sat beside each other at the long dinner table, your hand squeezing his thigh now. You looked at him with pleading eyes; feeling sick to his stomach, Kento knew you were wholly unwilling to risk the devastation brought by throwing the mission now. You would throw the fight instead.
You smiled demurely at your neighbours; a couple made of a rather intense looking young woman, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and with dark, almost black eyes boring into you as if you were the enemy (which I am, you reminded yourself), and an easygoing man, who looked wholly uncomfortable in his tuxedo, but who offered you an easy, reassuring smile and leaned forwards to introduce himself.
"I'm Keisuke," he offered, inclining his head towards you and Kento, "and this is my wife, Emi." Keisuke risked a short sideways glance at his wife, who continued to glare up and down the table like a hungry dog. You caught Keisuke swallowing hard. You realised he looked at his wife as if he didn't know who she was anymore.
As the first course was brought out, Kento was making tight, formal conversation with Emi. You and Keisuke chatted, discussion flowing naturally together, but hushed.
"Of course, Emi's the one with the Cursed-power here," he confided sheepishly, "I've not got a scrap of it. Sometimes she tells me I'm part of the problem," he stuttered, laughing at himself. You felt your heart sink for him. He was clearly madly in love with his wife, and had dropped his whole life to come and join the cult she had wished so desperately to join.
"And you're something of the same I hear?" Keisuke said hopefully, smiling encouragingly at the wait staff who came to take his plate, "Not much of a Cursed-power girl, yourself?"
You swallowed hard, "Uh, no. I have a technique, but really I just use it to keep Curses away from me," you intoned, trying your best to sound embarrassed. Keisuke laughed warmly.
"That sounds like the only Cursed-technique worth knowing, honestly. I dread the thought of being able to see Curses, but if I could, I'd want to hide myself away too."
Oh, sweet boy, you thought to yourself, you have no idea what you've got yourself into.
Kento's hand crept over the table to grasp yours by the fingers, his thumb stroking against the back of your knuckles. You held onto him, your lifeline. Keisuke glanced to your clasped hands with envy, as did Emi, but for pronouncedly different reasons. You frowned as you appraised Emi, noting how her hand moved sharply into her lap as Keisuke reached out to hold hers, and how she looked at Kento with steely-eyed determination.
Dinner drew to an end far too soon. You watched in trepidation as Father Shinzu stood, tapping lightly on a glass to gather everyone's attention.
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"The very best of evenings to you all, we are delighted to welcome such promising couples to our midst. Though there are some of you who are arguably more powerful than others, we hope the sparring this evening can open our minds and hearts to each other in a way befitting the Cursed-power we hope to continue to cultivate to the best of our ability."
Kento began to feel a grim realisation wash over him. Father Shinzu continued talking, "We have seated you in such a way, that your sparring partners for this evening shall be he or she of the corresponding gender, of the couple sat opposite you."
Your eyes met Emi's for the first time. Her beautiful eyes glinting like flint, she smiled coldly at you. Keisuke was the colour of sour milk as he stared, slack-jawed, at Kento. Kento, lost in his own fear for you, did nothing to make himself look less terrifying.
You saw it now. You were sure Keisuke did too. It was clear as day. You were a bad match for Kento, your Cursed-power too weak to 'cultivate' a powerful new generation with him. The Fathers had already determined he and Emi to be a much more promising match. Who better than Kento and Emi to kill each other's existing partner?
"We shall draw names to determine who fights first. Please come and take your seats by the arena."
You were struck by the absurd, with the knowledge that you would all be fighting, preferably to the death, in black tie. You looked at your heels scathingly, cursing your choice of footwear. Slipping them off and leaving them under your chair, you fancied your chances better barefoot. You felt sick to your stomach, totally backed into a corner, with the choice to either use your Cursed-technique and be caught, or throw the fight and hope someone stepped in before Emi killed you. Kento's brain ticked and ticked, rapidly forming a plan.
As the others filed away from the table, you and Kento stood to join them, but Keisuke's hand shot out desperately to grab yours over the table. Quick as a flash, Kento gripped his wrist, white-knuckled and smoldering at Keisuke. Keisuke looked wildly from you to Kento and back again.
"Listen to me," he hissed urgently, "she's a poisoner, that's her technique." Kento's grip on Keisuke's wrist loosened marginally as he clicked that Keisuke was trying to save you. Keisuke continued, hurried and frantic, "She can fight, yes, but just as well as anyone else. But if she looks like she's going to spit at you, run." Keisuke let go of you, shaking Kento off him, and, straightening his hair and looking wildly around him, he continued to the seats to sit beside his wife.
Kento resolved to not harm a hair on this man's head, outrageously grateful to him for his bravery. You held tightly to Kento as you walked over to the chairs, feeling weak at the knees. At best, you were about to be beaten to a pulp. At worst, you'd be dead or dying.
Two pairs fought before you. Within fifteen minutes, the bloodied corpse of a woman was being dragged out of the arena, her husband sobbing wildly in the chairs as staff restrained him and led him away, before he could bodily attack The Fathers, who looked at the man with mild distaste. Kento felt cold seep through him as he heard the man's choking cries for his wife, being led away through the Temple. Kento felt you tremble beside him. As his hand gripped yours, you felt him shaking, too.
You heard your name being called, sounding like it was coming from underwater. You nodded, resolved to not go to your death as the meek Mrs.Tsuda. You would fight. Your proficiency would, perhaps, surprise them. But it was worth the risk, knowing how reluctant they would be to give up a prize such as Kento.
As you stood, you gripped your dress at its slit, and tore sideways until your floor length gown was halfway up your thighs. You tucked the freed length of fabric under your dress into the side of your underwear. If in doubt, I can always garrot this bitch to death, you thought as you walked into the arena with Emi.
You had the narrowest of moments to prepare. Completely ignoring the countdown, Emi threw herself at you, striking you hard across the face. You saw stars, feeling Cursed-energy imbued into the hand responsible for the hit, and you stumbled, your head hitting the floor hard.
Instantly, Emi was on top of you, straddling you and pinning you to the floor. As she opened her mouth, taking Keisuke's warning, you threw a handful of sand upwards into her open mouth. Heaving her off of you, you stood, pulled the dress fabric from beneath your dress, and pulled it tightly around Emi's throat.
Huffing with exertion, you had a few seconds to notice Emi had managed to get a hand between the fabric and her throat, and, with her pulling it forwards hard, you fell over Emi, feeling blood and bruises blossom over your arms as you skidded over the cold gravel. You threw yourself sideways, feeling your skin tear against the ground again as Emi spat at you, Cursed-energy in the form of a vicious blue poison splattering onto the ground where your body just was. You tried and failed to get up.
You felt one, two, three kicks to your ribs and you rolled, gasping, her hits far stronger than the average woman's. You felt your restrained Cursed-technique burn in your throat, wanting to implant thoughts to stop, that this fight is demeaning, not worth it, but were totally corseted by the mission and unable to give yourself away.
As you coughed, bleeding and shivering, you felt Emi's hand grip your hair, wrenching your head up to look at her as she opened her mouth to spit again, and--
"Enough." Kento's voice rang out, deep and commanding, and all eyes turned to him. "Enough." He stepped over chairs, effortlessly reaching the arena in just a few steps with his long legs, and grabbed Emi's wrist, hauling her off you. Emi turned away mortified and furious, and Father Tatsu glowered at Kento.
"Is there a problem, Mr.Tsuda?"
"A problem?" Kento laughed coldly, "A problem. You compare my wife to him," Kento jutted his jaw sharply towards Keisuke, "as if she has no Cursed-energy, and then expect me to waste my talents fighting him, after his wife has just murdered mine? Don't make me laugh." Father Tatsu sneered, a look of disgust on his face.
"What are you suggesting, Mr.Tsuda?" He responded, coolly.
"I'm suggesting," continued Kento, venom in his voice, "that if you believe myself and my wife incapable of offering powerful children to this community, you're very much mistaken. I won't be insulted by you lumping my wife in with scum like that." Keisuke gulped, near tears at the scathing attack. You lay, stunned and bleeding in the gravel, but prepared to reveal yourself and fight at any given moment.
The atmosphere hung on a thread. Father Tatsu opened his mouth to speak, but Father Shinzu got there first.
"Quite right too, my boy. We support the potential of the couple in this community, not the individual," reassured Father Shinzu, who eyed his furious brother shrewdly, "and I, for one, think your wife's ability shows great potential. There is indeed a whole clan that boasts Cursed-speech as its inheritance."
Kento had already leaned down and scooped you easily into his arms, where you lay gratefully, shivering with your face pressed into his chest. He began to walk away with you across the courtyard. Father Tatsu's voice rang out behind you both.
"And yet, we have still seen no evidence of your abilities, Mr.Tsuda."
Kento paused, and sat you gently on a low plinth. Taking off his tuxedo jacket, he wrapped it around you, turned on his heel, and strode back to the arena. Stepping in front of Emi, he glowered down at her. Then, he looked to The Fathers.
"What do you like better? Her or your temple?" Father Tatsu moved to answer, a familiar greedy look in his eye. Father Shinzu raised his hand abruptly.
"That will not be necessary," he interrupted, "If my brother so chooses, he can organise a more fitting match for you in the coming days. Please, tend to your wife, Mr.Tsuda.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Kento placed towels down on your futon, guiding you to it to sit, treating you as if you were made of glass. Still shaken, and not used to feeling so utterly defenceless, you wrapped your arms around your knees, hearing Kento clatter about in the kitchen.
You felt him kneel beside you, feeling again like your head was underwater as he called your name. Without warning, you burst into tears, feeling new injuries laid over scars from your last battle, from another fight you nearly lost. Kento pulled you to his chest, now covered with smears and spatters of your blood, holding you close while you sobbed your heart out to him for the second time in less than 24 hours.
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Chapter 4: The Rumbling Shrine, link HERE!
377 notes · View notes
madaqueue · 5 days
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then beg
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pairing: suguru geto x f!reader
a/n: BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK srry guys idk what came over me when i was writing this (i need him so bad)
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you aren’t sure how much longer you can hold out, your teeth biting down into your lower lip so hard you could nearly taste blood.
“c’mon now, sweetheart, just one little word and this’ll all be over,” your boyfriend purrs above you, his black hair cascading over his shoulders and tickling your bare skin.
you shake your head no, grasping onto any remaining pieces of resolve, collecting the shreds of your determination, to last just one more minute - that’s all you need, you try to reassure yourself.
truthfully, you never thought you’d be the one in this position - after all, it was you who originally made the bet with suguru.
you had put up with enough of his teasing, enough of being called ‘needy’ for just wanting to kiss him, and today you decided to stand up for yourself.
when he walked into your apartment, he just looked so perfect in his work clothes, his dress shirt rolled up above his elbows, his bangs falling across his forehead, how could you not want to fuck him on the spot?
“you’re so sweet when you’re all desperate like this,” he chuckles as you paw at his belt before he even has a chance to get his shoes off.
“suguru, i’m not that desperate,” you huff, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
"oh yeah?" he tilts his head in amusement. "you couldn’t even wait ten minutes from when i got home, you needed me to fuck you so bad.”
“yeah. and you know what? i’ll prove it,” you state confidently. “ten minutes. i bet you i can go ten minutes without you fucking me.” 
“you’ve got yourself a deal, angel,” he smirks, slowly waltzing over to you. his hands meet your waist, his touch sending shockwaves through you as his palms kneed the soft flesh of your ass.
“d-deal,” you stammer, conviction beginning to waver as he leans over, placing wet kisses along your neck.
and now, it’s been nine minutes of geto cruelly teasing you, bringing you to the brink of your release before pulling back.
he rubs his cock over your slick folds, the pressure driving you insane as you rut your hips up off the bed, craving anything more he’s willing to give you.
but, of course, he was not going to lose so easily.
“you poor needy thing,” he coos, watching you writhe in agony below him. “i told you, all you have to do is say ‘please’ and i’ll fuck you.”
it was becoming too much, the constant taunting and temptation overwhelming you. your body felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touches igniting new flames.
before you can stop yourself, your lips move on their own.
“please,” you blurt out weakly.
“what was that, princess? couldn’t quite hear you,” he teases, holding a hand up to his ear.
“please, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you babble desperately, “please fuck me, please suguru, please.”
with your eyes tightly shut you can’t see the way he grins, more than happy to give into your demands.
without a moment of hesitation he thrusts into you easily, a moan escaping your lips as you finally get what you had been craving. your warm walls envelop him as your eyes nearly roll back, your pussy beginning to clench around him.
“h-hah,” he whispers, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already, i knew you were desperate but fuck.”
his words sound fuzzy, far away; right now, all you can feel is him, the fullness, the stretch, the sweet burning pleasure of his cock inside you. after what felt like an eternity of being denied it, you get suddenly pushed over the edge of your orgasm.
“p-please,” you moan, the words aimlessly tumbling out of your mouth, “please, please.”
your vision goes white as your entire body shakes, racked with wave after wave of ecstasy. broken pleas continue to fill the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, you just know that you need more.
as you come down from your high, you finally open your eyes to meet suguru’s, a glimmer of desire in his dark irises.
you feel his thumb stroke the tears off your face that you hadn’t realized were falling before he wipes the drool that had pooled at the corner of your open mouth away. he kisses you messily, his tongue easily sliding between your parted lips, his cock still buried inside you.
“you really are needy,” he breathes in awe through a smirk, “but since you asked so nicely, i’ll keep fucking you like the desperate slut you are, how’s that sound?”
blinking up at him through glazed-over eyes, you nod. “please?”
163 notes · View notes
alwaysmoncheri · 1 month
Text
summary: you wake up in major john egan’s bed and remember he drunkenly kissed you the night prior—you wonder what that means for your relationship.
cw: fem!reader, mentions of sex, fluff, kissing, confessions, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drunkenness, cuteness, but also cheesiness, 1k words
<3
It’s quiet when you wake, the sun peaks through the curtains, creating a ray of light that just misses your face. The sheets are comfortable, warm with your own body heat, but they’re not yours. You sit up with a start, the realization as to where you are washing over you. You were in Major John Egan’s bed, oh my god, what were you thinking? You whip your head around, desperately searching for the man you spent the night with. Throwing one of the pillows off the bed, you hear a quiet grunt from the floor, causing you to scramble over to the edge of the bed. Carefully leaning over with a cautious gaze, you see Bucky laying on the ground, a blanket half covering his bare torso and the pillow you previously threw next to him. Heat rises to your cheeks as your eyes find his. His arms are behind his head and there’s an agonizingly charming smile on his face as he looks back at you.
“Good morning.” Bucky’s voice reaches your ears and you feel weak. Your lips part and you draw in a nervous breath, blinking a few too many times, you struggle to gather your thoughts before finally managing to speak.
“You’re on the floor.” you state simply, chasating yourself for the obvious observation.
“It appears so, yes.” Bucky responds with a hint of amusement in his tone, his smile grows wider and you grow more nervous under his gaze, so you look away.
“You don’t need to be.” you offer softly, a gentle invitation hanging in the air as you lean back onto the plush comfort of the bed. Bucky, catching the subtle implication in your words, lifts himself onto his elbows, his expression curious. With a simple nod, you confirm your desire for him to join you on the bed.
Without a word, Bucky rises, his movements fluid and controlled, as he gathers the scattered pillows and blanket, the fabric rustling softly in the quiet room. With practiced ease, he arranges them on the bed before settling himself beside you, his presence a comforting weight against the mattress. As he sits next to you, the warmth of his body radiates, drawing you closer. You catch the scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of musk and cedarwood, mingling with the faint aroma of lingering alcohol from the night before. The mattress dips slightly under his weight, a silent invitation for you to move closer. You shift, your shoulder brushing against his as you settle into a comfortable position beside him.
For a moment the two of you sit in silence, the memories of what happened last night weighing on your conscious. You’re overwhelmed, confused, and attempting to put the pieces together.
“You were drunk.” you remind him, the words a hesitant admission of the truth. “I was drunk.”
“That is also true,” Bucky acknowledges with a nod, his gaze softening as he senses the rising panic in your voice. Your breath quickens, and your eyes widen, “Look, honey—” Bucky begins, his voice gentle and reassuring, but before he can finish, your words tumble out in a rush of desperation.
“Oh my god.” you gasp, leaning closer to Bucky, your voice barely above a whisper as you say your next few words, “Did we have sex?”
Bucky's laughter fills the air, a warm, affectionate sound that doesn't quite match the gravity of the situation. Your reaction is immediate, confusion and annoyance contort your features.
“It's not funny,” you insist, your voice tinged with frustration as you search his expression for answers.
“Honestly, honey, I couldn’t tell you.” Bucky replies with a shrug, his demeanor nonchalant despite your obvious distress.
“John,” you whine, the plea in your voice betraying your need for him to be serious and clarity of the situation. As your words dissolve into incoherent mumbles, Bucky reaches out, his hand gently squeezing yours in a gesture of reassurance.
“Hey, I’m sure nothing happened,” he interjects, making an attempt to alleviate your worries, “if we had sex, you probably wouldn’t be wearing anything right now.” Bucky adds, with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows and a smirk.
The implications of his words send a shiver down your spine, mingling with the warmth of his touch as you recall the kiss shared between the two of you the night before, “You kissed me last night.” you say with a hint of uncertainty, searching his face for confirmation.
“And you didn’t stop me.” Bucky counters, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes.
“Why would I?” you admit softly, “You’re all I think about.”
Bucky's smiles, that adorable smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You watch as his gaze flickers to your lips and back up to your eyes. A giggle bubbles up from your throat, a nervous sound expressing your uncertainty of the moment.
“What?” you ask in response to Bucky’s wordless expression. Your heart pounds in your chest as he reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, before leaning in to whisper.
“I’m so in love with you.” Bucky confesses in your ear before leaning back with a wide smile, eager to see your reaction. A smile spreads across your face and you turn to slowly wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“If you don’t kiss me—”
Before you can finish, Bucky leans in, closing the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. A hand holds your cheek, while the other rests on your waist, pulling you closer. He kisses you like he needs you and he knows he does. You melt into his touch, surrendering to the warmth and intensity of the kiss. Before you know it, you're straddling his lap, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss.
“I love you more.” you murmur against his lips when you pull away and Bucky chuckles, his airy laugh fanning across your face.
“That’s not possible, honey.” he replies, his voice filled with adoration as he leans his forehead against yours.
“Why don’t you kiss me again and find out?” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky says with a grin before capturing your lips once more, sealing your love in a sweet, lingering kiss.
<3
masterlist . john "bucky" egan masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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sheisjoeschateau · 3 months
Text
"Oh, so we DO love Steve... | PART V
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⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
CHAPTER WARNINGS: tw - major character death (?), attempted CPR, screaming, crying, strong language, trauma (so much f*cking trauma), regrets. 18+
***
When Steve watched you tumble off of the wall and down to the ground, he felt his entire world stop spinning. 
It was as if he could literally see the surge of electricity that coursed through your veins, grappling onto your body before it repelled you off the fence.
You fell, landing flat on your back, and Steve knew that if you’d had any air left in your lungs that the fall alone had knocked the wind out of you.
And Steve felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Crouched at the top, just watching the nightmare unfold in front of his eyes.
“BAUMAN!!!!”
The scream that ripped from Steve’s lungs scared him more than he already was.
Jonathan, Eddie and Dustin all shouted your name in response. They rushed over to your body. Your way-too-still body.  
Everyone completely freaked. Steve kept cursing and shouting, knees pressing into the concrete underneath where he was hunched over and gripping the edge. Every inch of him was shaking and ready to pounce off the top of that wall onto the ground.  The walkie-talkie was going off still, and that only heightened everyone’s senses that were already in override.
Jonathan knew what Steve was debating, as he got closer to the ledge.  “Steve, don’t move —”
“Fuck, FUCK.”
“DO NOT MOVE.”
“BAUMAN — ”
“STAY UP THERE. The box got — fuck, it got switched, fuck!” 
Jonathan was frenzied.  Sheer panic brought his voice up several octaves, to where he was just shrieking. 
Eddie was almost shell-shocked next to Dustin, who was the most frightened that any of the guys had ever seen the kid.  He clutched the walkie-talkie as it kept blasting off with Murray’s voice, shaking.
“Jonathan…” Dustin’s voice sounded so small, so terrified. Like he was suddenly six years old again. 
Eddie went from reaching for you, to reaching out to Dustin.  He was so conflicted, needing to help and not knowing how.  The metalhead stuttered unintelligible words of fear.
And up on the ledge still, Steve raked his hands through his hair, throwing his head back to groan more curses to the sky. 
This was hell.  Absolute hell. 
Here he was, stuck at the top, unable to do anything. Steve frivolously paced, tugging at his hair until the scalp burned.
“Group 2 to Group 4, do you copy?”
Steve felt bile rise up in his throat watching Jonathan’s fingers graze your neck, searching for a pulse.  When it wasn’t there, he reached for your wrist.  No sign of life… Jonathan looked sick. Turning to Eddie, who was staring at him — pale as a ghost — Jonathan’s voice shook. 
“Lift her head,” Steve heard Jonathan croak.  He was positioning himself over you, straightening you out on your back. He took his hands, pressing them to your chest.
Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, God no, please no. Steve heard himself saying it in his head, over and over. But when Eddie looked up at him, his eyes heartbroken, Steve realized it wasn’t in his head. Steve was saying it out loud.
“Group 4, this is group 2 – do you copy????”
Jonathan was telling Dustin, in as calm a voice as he could muster, how to help.  And Dustin looked up at Steve, whimpering for him.  But seeing his older brother-slash-mother-like figure at the top in complete dismay only made him want to cry more.  Dustin was scared, he was so scared… Jonathan brought him back to focus. 
“Hey, hey," Jonathan spoke to him gently, shakily. "Look at me.  Look at me.  Help me, alright?”
But Jonathan’s trembling voice was not reassuring at all.  Dustin followed his lead, though. He kept his hands cupped underneath your head, your hair pooled around yourself on the ground.
Steve got a grip on himself for all of two seconds.  Enough to at least speak to his kid, voice wrecked and his words rushed. 
“Dustin, h-hang in there, kid, alright?  It's okay. S'okay. Jonathan – y-you know CPR, yeah?” 
Jonathan fervently nodded his head, getting to work.
The walkie-talkie was a chaotic clusterfuck of voices, begging for an answer.  Murray.  Erica.  Hopper.  Eleven.  Lucas. 
Eddie lost it, grabbing it from the ground and biting back a scream before he tried to tell them, not knowing how — “C-code red, code red, we — we . . .”
Your eyelids – glued shut – made Steve’s open eyes burn. Your lifeless chest, no sign of air, made the sound of his own breathing sound so loud it was jarring.  He couldn’t breathe.  He still had fucking oxygen in his lungs, yet he couldn’t breathe. 
Steve just kept murmuring your name into his fist.  His voice was low and unintelligible, as if he was speaking some twisted prayer out loud while he paced back and forth. He felt acid pricking at his eyes, blurring his vision. Steve swiped at my face, roughly rubbing his palm down his from forehead to chin.
Steve bit at his own cheek, willing the trembling to stop. Stop, damn it. Don’t make this real. It’s not real.
“God damn it,” Jonathan muttered.
“Keep going,” Steve barked down at Wheeler.  It was meant to be a command but Steve’s voice was thick with emotion and he hated it.  He watched every chest compression and every puff of air exhaled into your mouth and over your lips, wishing to God that it was his own lips crushing against yours. Because if it were him, he would give you no choice. You were stubborn as fuck, and no one needed to be easy on you. That wouldn’t work.
Murray was going berserk on the other side of the walkie, and so was Hopper. 
“Where the hell is my niece, what’s going on?!?!”
Eddie was on the verge of a full blown panic attack, trying to get a word out and explain.  For the love of God, how could he explain???
Dustin glanced up at Steve, and that was the worst thing he could’ve done. He was crying. Steve’s kid was fucking crying.
Fuck, this was real.
Steve’s body had never violently convulsed with shakes like this his entire life.  Not when he first saw the demogorgon.  Not when he came face to face with the demodogs.  And not even in the Russian torture chamber. 
He wanted to sob – but hell no, he couldn’t let himself. Not yet. Not fucking yet.
So Steve bit his cheek until he tasted blood, lips tightly curled over his gritted teeth, frantically pacing with his arms crossed and fingernails digging into his elbows even through his shirt.
When Jonathan sighed, exasperated, Steve was suddenly screaming at Jonathan. He didn’t even register it until it was happening. Wheeler shouted back, a storm of words tearing them both at the seams. Wheeler never overreacted. He never shouted unless it was a joke.
But this wasn’t a joke. It was real.
And the distraught anger that boiled inside of Steve was evident as he shrieked back at Jonathan and Eddie below out of sheer disdain towards them for being down there with you instead of himself. It wasn’t even their fault. It was nobody’s fault, and somehow that made it worse. Because it meant that Steve had no one to blame.
So, he blamed God. A god that he wasn’t sure he even believed in.
Eddie finally flipped his shit, screeching into the walkie-talkie.  The trees.  The world.  “She’s.  Not.  Breathing!!!!!!  The fence turned on too soon!!!!”
“Murray, turn it back now!” Steve cried out. 
“Steve’s stuck up top, he needs down here!  He’s a lifeguard, Erica, help!”  Dustin’s cries were heart wrenching.
Erica came onto the line.  “I’m on it, Steve, hang on!” 
After another agonizing 15 seconds, Murray said it was clear — his voice cracking. 
Eddie flung his bat at the fence.  No electricity. 
Steve hurled himself down the wall.
Flinging himself to the ground, Steve could feel himself begin to hyperventilate again as he looked over your pale face up close. Your full lips were no longer that tempting shade of rose pink.
They were blue.
So, Steve moved fast – straddling you and thinking back to lifeguard training a few summers ago. One of the few things I’d done right in high school was learning CPR.  He locked his knuckles against your chest, starting compressions while ordering Jonathan to keep doing mouth to mouth.
“How long has it been...” Steve’s question sounded like a statement, muttered through his actions.
“Over three minutes,” Eddie spoke, his voice also shaking. Then he mumbled, “...if not longer.”
Steve’s stomach churned. He grit his teeth, jaw clenched, forcing the next round of sobs back down his throat.  Your name was choked on his lips, mixed with vulgar curses muttered under his breath.  Your lips were still parted from the attempted resuscitation, and your eyelids were beginning to peak open. But your lively irises were trapped behind her hooded eyelids, dead and unmoving, and the thought of not seeing them ever again fucking wrecked Steve.
One, two, three.   “C’mon, Bauman.”   Four, five, six, breath.  “Bauman, c’mon —”
Steve’s arms began to burn as he frivolously tried to pump life back into your slender frame.
God, I hate her, Steve thought.  I fucking hate her.
Of course it would be her that this happened to. Of fucking course. Not me. Because that would be too easy. Then she would keep so stupid fucking calm, like she always is in situations that infuriate me. She would keep herself together. Her stubborn attitude would keep her emotions at bay. Because God forbid she be visibly scared. She had to be the goddamn hero. Because she is perfect. Impossibly perfect.
So fucking perfect.
“Bauman, cmon, please,” Steve pleaded.
“YOU GUYS, TALK TO US.  WHAT’S HAPPENING?”  Robin sounded panicked over the walkie. 
Eddie didn’t even know how to answer.  He just stared, helplessly.
Steve’s shoulders slumped, and he felt the stupid tears that sloped down his face and onto his trembling lips. He tasted the salt, the bitterness making him want to curl up and die. He'd never felt this sick in my life. He never wanted to feel it again.
But he would feel it ten times worse if this is how it was gonna end.
If Steve was never gonna see another day with the niece of Murray fucking Bauman bothering the ever-living shit out of him, then his world was just going be dull again.
Funny how he once thought that’s how he’d preferred it. The world in which you didn’t exist. Steve had raved to you about it, day after day. About how much better his life would have been in that world if you had simply never come into the picture. How much happier he would be, because you wouldn't have been around to ruin it. You would simply cease to exist, and all would be right in the world.
Now he had spoken it into fucking existence. And if there was ever a regret that Steve Harrington had in his life, it was having ever thought for a second that it was what he actually wanted. He would rather be forced to rewatch all his days as King Steve and watch everything horrible that he did and bitterly regretted now, if it meant avoiding this.
Because now, all he wanted was you.
God, please, let me keep her...
Jonathan stopped giving mouth to mouth, heaving for air. Dustin looked at him in pure horror, and for the first time ever I saw Eddie look more terrified than the kid.
“Jonathan,” Dustin croaked.
“Whoa whoa, w-what —” Eddie stuttered.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”  Steve screamed.
Steve sounded like a strangled animal, growling at Jonathan — who now just wept and wept, overwhelmed.  He tearfully argued back with Steve, voice booming and defeatedly saying something about how it’s not working. Something about it being too late. And Steve wanted to punch him square in the face. 
On top of that, the walkie-talkie kept blasting off in Eddie’s hands with everyone’s voices.  Mainly Murray, who was demanding information, screaming —
“Someone tell me what’s going on with my niece right now!!!!!!!!”
Eddie stuttered something to Wheeler, moving to take his place. Wheeler obeyed, moving aside.
Steve swapped with Eddie, giving you mouth to mouth while he pumped your chest.  Jonathan murmured into the walkie, all stuttered and shaky, something about them trying.  Still trying.
And all the while, Steve kept murmuring your name while blowing air into your lungs, and it sounded like a broken prayer on his tongue. Eddie was openly crying at this point, his tears silent but his motions panicked as he continued pumping your chest while Steve willed life back into your airways.
Dustin was whimpering like a child, petrified.  Jonathan held him, winded and freaked.
Another minute ticked by, and you still weren't breathing...
Don’t leave me here, Steve begged you in his head.
Lips, air. Breathe, breath, breath.
Don’t fucking leave me here.
Chest compressions.  Pump, pump, pump.
I don’t know how to be without you anymore. You ruined that world for me. That world is gone. I don’t want it back, don’t fucking let me go back there.
Steve was ready to throw himself into that electric fence, and escape the world he had created for himself with his own ignorance.
And then he saw your eyes scrunch. 
Your face moved.
Steve’s breath hitched as he saw your hand twitch. 
“Bauman. . . ”
He barely breathed your last name, almost afraid to say it again. As if that would make you disappear again.
The most guttural cough escaped from your throat, sending you into a choking fit before it began to level out. All the while, Steve watched life color your face again.  Your eyes tried to focus, your eyelids still slightly hooded. But your chest rose and fell, air finally filling your lungs.
Steve felt as if someone had revived him. A rush of air escaped his mouth, his shoulders sagging as he let the overwhelming sensation of relief rattle his bones through body-wracking sobs. “Fuck…”
Steve immediately sought your touch, his hands on your face as his fingers grazed your jaw and your neck.
Eddie choked on a sigh of own relief as he distanced himself to let Steve straddle you. 
“Don’t…touch the fence,” you murmured, your voice small and strained as you caught your breath.
Fucking hell.  Even now, just barely back to life, you're cracking a joke.
Steve laughed hard.  So hard, incredulously. Kinda hysterical. He watched tears splash down onto your cheeks, realizing that they were his own. But Steve didn’t give a fuck how pathetic he looked as he crushed his lips against yours and cried while doing it. He was completely on top of you at this point, caging you with his legs and arms. His elbows dug into the earth beneath you both, one hand brushing your hair off your forehead and the other grazing your shoulder. And your collarbone. And the soft divot of your neck. Steve just had to touch you. He had to feel you moving, to assure himself that you were really alive again.
“Y-you,” Steve stuttered. “You were dead. Your heart. Stopped.”
His choked words hung in the air, desperate and broken. Haunted by the memory that had just been his reality not even a minute ago.
Your eyes opened a bit more, softly glazed over and searching his own. Your heart seized, seeing the tearful anguish in Steve’s eyes up above you.  You wanted to take it away from him, never wanting to be the source of his sadness.
Your hand slowly reached for his, taking his wrist and pressing his palm to your chest.
“S’okay, Harrington,” you sighed. “S’working now.”  Thump, thump, thump.
You watched as Steve clenched his eyes shut, gnawing his lip and whimpering unabashedly at your heartbeat that drummed under his touch.
Fuck’s sake, he thought. Of course she is comforting me. She just died, and yet here she is – comforting me.
God, you were insufferable. Steve fucking hated it. He hated you. He hated you so much.
So fucking much…
Steve buried his face into the crook of your neck, nose pressed to your skin as he wept freely. You held his hand to your chest while his other arm wound up around your head.
“Hate you,” Steve weakly mumbled against your neck. All anguish, no heat. “Fucking hate you.”
You could only sigh, just staying there, letting the soft sounds of your breathing against Steve’s ear ground him again.  Whether it was seconds, minutes, or hours that passed, you didn’t know.  Didn’t care.
And no one else said anything.  The boys fell silent.  Completely silent.  Watching in disbelief.  So much had just happened, revealing so much more at the same time…
The walkie-talkie squawked again.  All channels were tapped in.  Joyce, your uncle’s crackly voice, and Hopper.
“Someone give me fucking update,” your uncle demanded over the walkie in a wobbly, distressed voice.  “Kids, c’mon. What’s happening?”  …even Hopper sounded emotional. “Please, please tell us she’s alright,” Joyce’s sweet voice was full of tears.
Eddie jumped at all the voices.  He sniffled, remembering he needed to answer.  Through his own tears, he told them, “G-group 4, w-we… we got her. Steve’s got her, sh-she’s breathing… She’s alright.”
As Lucas came back through the channel — “Oh thank God” — they could hear Murray in the background sounding like an uncharacteristically relieved mess.
Somehow, Steve pulled himself away from you. He looked down at you, swiping his elbow across his nose hastily. So much snot. Not that you minded, or even noticed. Your eyes were closed again, fluttering exhaustedly.
“Do you wanna,” Steve hiccuped, still stuttering. “Wanna — s-stand up?”
You gave a weak nod and managed to feebly peel your eyelids back open. Steve leaned back on his knees, ready to help you stand.
Jonathan was right behind you, arms slipping underneath your shoulder blades to help lift you off the ground. Steve clasped his hands in yours, pulling you to him after he’d risen to his own feet. You stood too, your footing wobbly and weak. Steve let you lean into him, one arm snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. His left hand gripped the back of your neck, balancing you. Balancing both of you. He kept murmuring a series of little I got you’s, repeatedly saying it was all okay in a hushed tone only meant for you.
Steve finally glanced up to look at the others.
Dustin was a quiet, relieved mess. He looked shaken to the core, glancing from Babe Bauman in Steve’s arms to Steve himself. He trembled, hugging himself. Eddie quickly moved to comfort him, wrapping a tight arm around him as he bit back his own tears. Steve made a mental note that he would undoubtedly thank him for that later. Jonathan looked at Steve with more empathy than he ever thought him capable of radiating in his direction. The oldest Wheeler looked exhausted yet wired at the same time, and Steve caught the sight of his bottom lip trembling before he looked away. 
In spite of the relief, all three of them were asking themselves the same question: how long has something with these two been going on?
Steve suddenly felt seen for all that he was.  Fragile, underneath his cocky bravado.  He felt like a sham, who only pretended to not be emotionally affected by anything.  He felt like deep down, he was still that prick from high school, who didn’t know what he had until it was taken away from him.  Only then did he learn, right?  Only after he was made to face the hell he had created for himself, was he able to finally see the mistakes that he’d made and wanna make them right. It happened with Nancy. It happened with school. It happened with Max and how he failed her as a brother (or mother, according to the kids). When was he ever gonna learn…
Steve could feel everyone’s eyes on him.  Him, and you.  He knew that the three guys were watching, and that they’d all seen him fall apart completely.  The two of you were definitely found out now — no going back.  But Steve didn’t even care.  He couldn’t now. 
Without any control over himself, Steve shamefully sought comfort and privacy by adjusting himself in your arms.  His girl.  He buried his face into your shoulder, clinging to you desperately and trembling. 
And you melted. Your head was fuzzy and everything hurt, so you couldn’t really focus on much that was happening the way that Steve could. But all that mattered to you right now was him, as he held you like he’d lose you all over again unless he did, his breathy cries rattling his bones.  You cradled his head against your shoulder, softly murmuring to him that it’s alright, it’s okay.
Sometimes, Steve would find himself smiling in your embrace, despite the anguish as he couldn’t stop mentally reliving what had just happened.  He had to forget it.  You were here.  You weren’t gone.
He got to keep you.
He’s going to keep you.
Even if it fucking kills him.
***
thank you guys :') I know this chapter stretched out an already stressful situation but it needed to drive the point home: Steve's hatred has transitioned into love.
tag list: @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @xprloki @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers @originalthingparadise @pleuviors @pumpkinonice @ihaveproblemsihaveproblems @brinleighsstuff
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pendarling · 6 months
Text
Winter Boots
Last year, when winter hit the city, Hero thought it was best to prepare for the weather with a quick adjustment to their attire. A little extra fur with a couple of layers did their suit justice. It maintained style while providing the warmth they needed when running outside.
This year, they planned on keeping the colour and style the same as they always did. Except, there would be a minor adjustment: their fine, long over the knee-length boots would be shortened to only their ankles. It wasn't as if the efficiency of the newer shoes was heightened, only that it was a style preference. They had debated it back and forth over a few weeks, and it wasn't like they would lose anything either.
So when Villain tilted their head and squinted their eyes during their routine battle, they felt nervous about their decision.
"It looks cute on you." They motioned with their hands at their suit.
Hero had to restrain a smile from escaping their lips. They wouldn't let Villain court them. However, the compliment made them feel much warmer, just enough to forget the snow surrounding them.
"You should focus on the fight, Villain." Their hands tightened into a fist, and their posture resumed its usual stance.
There were a few more seconds of an empty pause as the winds clashed against the frosted buildings around them. Villain looked to be in deep thought as they grappled in their mind on what to say next. "Although you make everything look good, I deeply miss the old boots. They had…" They looked to the sky for words, "an appeal to them."
Hero pulled their gaze away from Villain for a few seconds and fixated their focus back on their boots before staring at them again with a stern glare, "I don't need your opinion, Villain."
"I'm not saying you have to take it to heart." They shrugged.
Hero lunged at them again, their fists aiming to hurt Villain just enough to reassure them of their strength. Hero sent a kick to their left and another to the right, only for Villain to grab hold of their foot.
Hero gasped as they almost slipped on the pile of snow beneath them. "Ah!-- You better let go of me!" Their body was tiled, and Hero looked for something to hold as they tried to maneuver their way out.
"Hold still now, love, I want to show you something." They slightly pinched at their calf, "See this here," Hero stifled a laugh; now was not the time to feel ticklish. This new position was too embarrassing to be in.
They tried yanking their leg away again before feeling weakened against their grip. "I had always admired these nice legs of yours. Have I ever told you that?" They teasingly smiled and waited for a reaction.
Hero blushed and shook their head fiercely to shake away the feeling growing in them. "You're unbeliveable, Villain. Can't you just stay professional for once?"
Villain ignored their comment and pulled their leg closer with a firm grip until it rested on their shoulder. "Relax, I just wanted to help you see this from my perspective-"
"You pull me any closer to you and I'm going to pull a hamstring!"
"The boots, the ones that you used to wear, they just had a way of defining these legs better." They watched as Villain's fingers ran smoothly up and down their leg. "Do you see where I'm getting at?" they winked cooly.
Hero slipped their foot out of their grip and jumped a few meters back, slightly tumbling.
Did their nemesis seriously just ask them to wear the older boots for their pleasure? Had they been paying that much attention to their legs all this time?
Their eyes flickered back and forth with confusion and anxiousness. It shouldn't be this big deal, yet Hero knew they were over the moon with all of Villain's alert comments. It wasn't as if they had intentionally thought of what their rival would think, but hearing their admiration for it made their heart jump.
Hero pulled down the fur coat to cover whatever they could, "You're just saying that to distract me."
"Oh, I can assure you the only person here doing the distracting is you."
They bit their lip to counter the growing heat spreading across their cheeks, hoping that Villain had mistaken it for a reaction to the cold. They couldn't help themselves when they responded this way; it looked like for Villain, it would be their victory for now. Hero decided to leave the conversation hanging and sprint away instead, a relatively common behaviour they developed when Villain's advancements started getting to their head.
They shouldn't be feeling this way. It wasn't very honourable of them, especially since their sole job was to defeat Villain and protect whatever version of justice they saw as true. Yet, their heart still lingered in the air, searching for Villain's words even in the comfort of their own home.
Hero, now in their regular civilian clothes, retired to bed early. Only knowing whatever was ahead of them would only strengthen Villain's infatuation for them.
In the dark of the night, they lay in bed still contemplating Villain's words. Did their legs really look that presentable?
They lifted up their thigh and stretched out their sore muscles. It didn't look significant to them… Maybe it was all empty words, something to keep their mind at bay and to let Villain win.
Their heart paced rapidly as their eyes landed on the soft fabrics of their suit and the small boots sitting neatly inside their closet, hidden from any prying eyes.
Hero sat up and walked gently with soft feet; their cheeks still flushed from hours earlier. Behind the endless piles of clothes were their older boots. They never found them central to their uniform, but Villain did.
Carefully, they slipped them on and stood in front of a mirror. Their own eyes scan the change in their appearance. It was slightly attractive now that they thought about it for a bit.
Their heart nearly escaped their chest with the thought of returning to fight Villain and having them notice the obvious switch they've made.
In their head, Hero could already see it. The slight curvy smile and knowing eyes when they've only just arrived at the scene. They would rather die than imagine a scenario at all, even if their mind started to race with many other wonderfully intimate ideas that had them worked up.
"Deep breath." They sucked in some air and blew it back out to calm their nerves. Their hands were shaking. What was wrong with them? They didn't care about how their body appeared to anyone. Not even for Villain.
That's right.
They're only switching back because they always knew they wouldn't like their new boots anyway.
When it reached the time to make their first debut in their readjusted uniform, Hero had to run a series of conversations with themselves to push them into the spotlight. It wasn't a pleasant morning, but it wasn't a reason time to complain. The news did warn of heavy snow and sleet. It wouldn't get any better either as the season made its way deeper and deeper into winter.
Hero watched with eagerness as a familiar figure emerged from the heavy fog and walked effortlessly to their place.
The crunch of snow below their feet drew closer until they could hear their rival's voice between the whisps of the winds. "Lovely weather we're having, hm?" Their eyes pierced straight into their own and sent chills down their back. Hero was here for one thing: to stop Villain's advancement on the day's mission; they always caused chaos for whatever corruptable plan they'd conjured up for months before. There was also reason number two, but they weren't sure if they even wanted to admit to it yet.
Before they could get the chance to even mention or even hint at the change, Villain's gaze already coursed their way down their body and to their sleek boots.
They heard a short hum of approval, and as expected, a sly smirk worked its way up their face.
With their mind already set on formulating an excuse, Hero blurted out their thoughts, "I didn't do it for you, alright?"
"Okay…" Their irritating grin remained planted, unwilling to leave them alone. "Whatever you say, my love."
"I didn't!" They stomped their foot onto the ground as if mimicking a child. Their face felt like it was going to burst into flames.
"I believe you, Hero. There's no need to defend yourself." Even as they said that, they caught a small laugh at the end of their sentence, playing with them, "Just think it's a funny coincidence…" They pushed.
They pouted in response, their voice already too nervous to do all the talking, leaving it to their expressions.
"You look beautiful either way though, just so you know." They chuckled.
~~~ MASTERLIST
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 5 months
Text
on tonight's episode of 'crushes with beefcake'... - nate mack
dad!nate x f!reader
summary: josh has some questions and nate jumps at the opportunity to tell a little story of his own
warnings: swearing, mentions the death of a grandparent, fluff (psa this is just a little palette cleanser fic thing, i had inspiration and i ran with it)
word count: 5.9k
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It wasn’t very often that your son called a family meeting. In fact, in the entire history of people that had called a family meeting (excluding little Leyla), he’d never called a family meeting. He frowned upon them. Groaned at the words and sulked the entire way through them – as most ten year olds probably did.
Which was why, after putting him to bed and after you and Nate had both wandered back downstairs to watch a film, it was a shock to hear a pair of determined footsteps echo down the stairs with a clear purpose. The only thing more shocking was when he stood in front of you both, brows knitted together and a nervous frown on his face, and the words “I want to declare a family meeting right now” tumbled out of his mouth.
You’d blinked and Nate had sat up, removing his legs from where he’d draped them across yours. And when Josh turned around and strolled into the dining room, dragging a chair back out behind him, you shared a curious look with Nate – who looked as though he couldn’t decide if he should laugh or be worried.
And then you had to swallow a laugh and put on a serious face when Josh placed the chair in the middle of the living room, facing the both of you and lacing his hands together.
“It feels like we’re about to get therapized by our kid.” Nate muttered under his breath, and you swore you could feel your mom-face slip for a moment.
“Or it’s an intervention. Did we do something wrong?” You whispered back.
You felt Nate pause and then tense. 
Josh was oblivious, trying to adjust his seating position on the chair to find a comfier one, and probably also trying to stall because of the suddenly tense atmosphere that had enveloped the room.
Nate shuffled closer to you, his bicep and thigh touching yours, partly to reassure himself and partly to get closer so he could whisper into your ear without the risk of being heard, “What if he heard us?”
You inhaled, your stomach dropping unpleasantly. It had been one of your fears as a parent – the idea of scarring your kid in that way was absolutely mortifying. You had friends that had unfortunately experienced it, and there were a few choice words thrown around, so even the mere thought that Josh could have…it was enough to make you squirm uncomfortably.
“Nate.” You whispered, your tone causing him to whip his head towards you, a crease now prominent on his forehead, “If that ever happens, I give you permission to divorce me for trauma to the kids, okay?”
Upon hearing your words and realising they weren’t as serious as you’d initially made them sound, Nate’s face broke into a soft grin, thumb coming up to lightly brush under your eye, “For future reference, I’d much rather pay for their therapy than ever even think about divorcing you.” And he pressed a cheeky kiss against your lips as a way of sealing the promise.
“Ahem.” Josh coughed pointedly, and both you and Nate spun to look at him, feeling an awful lot like you’d been caught in a forbidden act of affection – which was pretty ridiculous considering the fact that it was at the hands of a gobby ten-year old.
Nate’s hand fell naturally on your leg, draped across your knee and curling around the top of your shin as you both turned your full attention to your son. Josh was pretty tall for his age, every bit of Nate’s build as he possibly could be. It was that, paired with Nate’s eyes and mouth that sometimes had you doing a double-take when you looked at him. It was like looking at a younger version of Nate again, back when you were both in school – not that Nate had stuck around for too long.
And you were reminded of that when Josh took charge of the entire room, and how similar it was to that funny expression Nate used to wear at his age, and even to this day – before games, dad-duties, serious conversations. It was their concentration face.
“He’s kinda scary–”
“Are you two done flirting now?” Josh interrupted, throwing Nate an unimpressed glance as his eyes darted between the two of you with about as much disdain for parental affection as he could possibly muster.
You swallowed, trying not to laugh and partially succeeding, and slowly pushed Nate’s hand off your knee. Josh’s eyes closely followed your movements, looking rather pleased with your reaction, and you could feel Nate’s disappointed glare burn the side of your face. It seemed to diminish in intensity somewhat when he caught the stifled twitch of your mouth as you wrestled with a smile.
“We weren’t flirting–” Nate denied, shaking his head and bumping your knees together – compensation for not being able to actually have a hand on you at this particular moment in time.
“I ordered a family meeting, excluding Leyla.” Josh groaned, hands on his cheeks in a show of hopelessness and frustration, “That means I’m the Head Judge, I get to make the rules, and Rule One is now no flirting–wait, Mom, where’s the Wooden Hammer Thing?”
You pushed yourself off the sofa, wandering into the dining room and picking out the gavel from one of the shelves and walking back into the living room to see Nate scratching his head with red cheeks and Josh sitting scarily chipper on the chair, hand out awaiting his Wooden Hammer Thing.
“It’s a gavel.” Was all you said, a little hesitant to say much else out of fear of…Josh’s unexpected wrath, “What happened?” You pointed the gavel between them both, slightly concerned for Nate when he shook his head, clearly embarrassed at something.
“Dad was watching you walk away and I set a new rule because it was annoying me.” Josh shrugged, taking the gavel from you.
“What rule is that?” You asked, intrigue skyrocketing when Nate pushed himself towards the far end of the sofa, as far away as humanly possible as he could get away from you in such a small space. 
Josh sighed, “I’ll paraphrase because I need to talk about something important. Basically, no horny behav–”
“No what now?”
“Where did you even learn that word?”
You and Nate spoke at the same time, you with confusion, and Nate with a hint of outrage as his eyes remained fixed on Josh, who, for the first time since he’d come back downstairs, was looking sheepish. His cheeks were a little red and he was grinning rather shyly, shoulders curling in on themselves.
“It was on TV the other day, someone said it.” Josh shrugged, before noting the still evident look of mild horror on both you and Nate’s face, “And I Googled it because I didn’t know what it meant.”
“No, don’t Google it!” Your hand covered your mouth, images and words that he could have seen flashing in your mind  – images and words that no ten year old should ever be subjected to, ever.
And to think Nate was worried about being heard? Why did kids have to be so good with technology and Google nowadays? When you were Josh’s age, YouTube was a dating site, so to think.. 
“It’s okay, I didn’t click on pictures.” Josh pulled a face, “The words were enough.”
There was a sputtering sound from the other end of the sofa, and you turned to find Nate also with his hand over his mouth, failing to hide a snort of laughter despite his earlier complaints. It seemed to die out, though, when he saw the identical way you and Josh were looking at him: with a hint of amusement and a tad of impatience.
He coughed, clearing his throat and straightening, “Sorry. Got something stuck in my throat.”
You rolled your eyes fondly, patting him on the leg (because even if he tried to move to the other end of the sofa, with the way he’d spread his legs, you barely even had to lean over to reach him).
“Whatever you say, Beefcake.” Josh muttered under his breath, and your hand stilled on Nate’s thigh, face freezing.
You didn’t have to look at Nathan to feel the piercing way he tilted his head to glare at you out of the corner of your eye, frustration clearly written across the panes of his face, “You created that.” He muttered, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he moved back over to you, his arm resting against the back of the sofa.
You said nothing, just resisted a smile and leaned against Nate’s arm, relishing in the way he draped it against your shoulders, drawing you against his chest. 
There was a brief flicker of hesitation when you leaned fully into him, wondering if this was the so-called ‘horny behaviour’ that Josh had ruled out of the meeting, but when he looked back up from where he’d been picking a strand of hair off his Penguin’s pyjama top, he didn’t say anything. Just sighed a little, and shook his head, like it was pointless trying to get you to adhere to his rules in the first place (which it was – Josh was the one treading in uncharted waters: it was nine pm on a school night – a time strictly reserved for unwinding with Nate on the sofa).
“Okay,” Josh began, back straightening, “I gather you here today–” 
You could feel Nate’s stomach tense and a shaky breath be exhaled in an effort to not break.
“To talk to you about something.” Josh took a deep breath, “It’s something I hold very close to my heart, but it means I have to ask you for help and questions because…” he shrugged, snapping out of the role somewhat, “in all my life, I’ve never not known how to talk to a girl.”
Oh.
Nate stopped laughing, and you felt your eyes widen in surprise. 
“Mom, Beefcake. I got a crush.” Josh slowly slipped off the chair, landing on his knees and holding his hands up to the sky, a pained expression on his face.
“I don’t know where he gets that from.” Nate muttered, gesturing to the dramatised scene occurring realtime in front of you.
“I think that’s just him.” You nodded along, suppressing a smile.
Josh returned back to his seat, smiling innocently and like he hadn’t just cried to the heavens, and you wanted to take him off the chair and sandwich him between you and Nate. 
Gosh, he’d grown up too fast. You could have sworn only last week you were bringing him home from the hospital, and now he was getting penalties for roughing in his games and asking how to talk to girls.
You scooted over, patting the space between you and Nate, “Come on.”
Josh rolled his eyes and fashioned a groan but followed you anyway, throwing himself down and eliciting a huff of pain from Nate as he half-sat on him.
“Okay,” you started, hands going to stroke through his hair, “tell us about why you need help with this crush.”
Josh practically reddened under your gaze, crossing his arms and swinging his feet – like he instantly regretted even bringing it up – but you applauded his bravery. Your mom had to pester crushes out of you because you were so scared if you told someone that the crush in mention would somehow hear you whisper their name.
“Her name’s Aimee, she sits behind me in class. I’ve tried talking to her, but she’s kinda quiet and I think I intimidate her a bit because…I’m not quiet.” He mumbled, fingers absentmindedly picking at his sleeve, “And I don’t want to scare her off.”
Your heart squeezed a little, and you were at a loss of what to actually say. You’d never been in that position before, usually the roles were reversed: you were the quiet one crushing on the louder person. Naturally, your eyes fell to Nate, who, it seemed, had got something in mind and had already been looking at you.
He was smiling like he knew something you didn’t, and you furrowed your brows, questioning his motives when he looked back down towards Josh.
“I’m gonna tell you something that I think’ll help.” Josh peered up at Nate, something akin to hope and excitement lingering on his face as he watched Nate talk, “When I was your age, maybe a bit younger, I had a massive crush on this girl. She was in a couple of my classes in middle school, and she was quiet. She didn’t put her hand up to answer any questions, even though she should’ve because she knew all the answers anyway – and I thought she was the prettiest girl in school by far–”
“What was her name?” Josh interrupted, frowning slightly.
“That’s not important.” Nate shook his head, “Anyway, in one of my classes in particular, we were assigned seating plans, and she sat on my table, with two other people. And I’d never spoken to this girl in my life, so all I knew was that she was pretty, pretty smart, and pretty shy. And it took me a couple of weeks to even ask her for the time–”
“No way.” Josh muttered sarcastically, and Nate frowned at him, bottom lip sticking out.
“I’m tryna help you.” 
Josh blinked, “Get to that part, then. You’re just spewing words.”
Nate pressed his lips together, meeting your eyes across Josh’s head with a straight-faced look. You didn’t pay it much attention – in all honesty, you were trying to figure out this mystery crush he’d had. Nate had been a pretty known person when you guys were in school, what with his hockey and everything, but even despite that he’d always been pretty tight-lipped about his middle school crush, and it had always felt a little silly to keep pestering him about it, so you just…left it.
“Fine.” Nate continued on, one hand reaching out to grasp yours, even as he turned his attention and focus back on Josh. His grip was tight, cool wedding band a nice contrast to your warm hands, and you tuned back into what he was saying, “And once this girl got used to the people she was sitting with, she started talking, and it turned out she was pretty funny. She used to say these things under her breath that only the table could hear, and we’d either all get a telling off for laughing, or we’d all know the answers to the questions.” Nate sighed, “Then the entire table got split up because we were distracting everyone.”
Something in the back of your mind seemed to click at that moment.
The same moment Josh spoke up, “Then what?”
“Then we left school and moved away.” Nate shrugged.
Josh pushed himself up off the sofa, arms crossed, “How’s that supposed to help me?”
In any other situation, you would’ve turned to Josh, tried to calm him down or say something reassuring, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself away from the crinkles in the corner of Nate’s eyes, or the way that he was still smiling like he knew something no one else did. Your mouth parted unconsciously at his words, and your brain went blank. His hand was still tangled with yours, squeezing every so often.
“Because eventually she opened up, and I didn’t have to change anything about me for that to happen. It just takes time, and she has to learn to trust you and be comfortable around you.” Nate continued, either ignorant or choosing to ignore the way you were intent on just staring rather awe-strickenly at him, “I’d also say it was a minor character misjudgement from me, because it turned out she was just quiet around people she didn’t know very well. She liked to sit and observe before chipping in.”
Josh was quiet for a second, deep in thought, and you took the opportunity to use your free hand to poke Nate in the cheek. Once, twice. He caught your hand, bringing it to his lap, and almost as though he was purposefully trying to drive you crazy, he reached for your leg, hauling you across the space Josh had just left. All without paying you a single scrap of attention.
“So I just have to be patient?” Josh asked, a rather dumbfounded look on his face.
You turned your attention back to your son, curling into Nate’s side again and feeling rather smug.
“Yeah. Maybe dial the noise down, though, let her know you’re paying attention to her instead of shouting to your friends, or interrupting.” Nate pressed a kiss to your head, a hand going to cover your mouth as you opened it to say something.
Josh caught the action, raising a brow in your direction, “Sounds doable. Did you break Mom, or something?”
You nodded, and you could feel Nate shake his head.
Josh looked unconvinced, so you licked Nate’s palm, attempting to pry it away from your mouth so you could defend yourself, but he’d clearly expected that kind of retaliation because he breathed a laugh, momentarily tightening his grip to prove he wasn’t fazed.
Josh took a few steps forward, reaching for Nate’s arm, “Can you unhand Mom, please? She wants to say something.” 
Nate let go, still keeping an arm around you but resting his opposite arm on the side of the sofa, head in his hand and looking at you with a knowing smile.
You inhaled, “He’s not telling you the whole story.” You pointed an accusing finger at Nate, and Josh gasped.
“Beefcake! How dare you deny your son the truth?” 
Nate laughed, but didn’t elaborate.
“Ask him what happened after.” You encouraged Josh, nudging your head back towards Nate.
Josh peered at you, mouth curved downwards in befuddlement, “He said nothing else happened.”
“Ask him again.”
“Dad.” Josh started, eyeing you cautiously out of the corner of his eye, “What happened after?”
Nate glanced at you, eyes darting to the sparkling bands on your left hand, before settling on Josh, who still hadn’t quite moved from where he’d folded his arms.
“I moved to Minnesota for a bit, then back home when I was sixteen. Then Colorado when I was seventeen or eighteen,” he pulled a face, not too bothered on the specifics, “And then about six years later, I came back home one summer and saw her standing in the ready meals aisle of a superstore, looking just as beautiful as the day I left – and still the prettiest person I ever laid eyes on.”
Josh glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes, uncertainty clear – he couldn’t tell whether to run to your defence and interrupt Nate’s spiel, or let him carry on. And you gathered that from your clear lack of upset, that he chose the latter.
“You have to know that it took some guts and I gave myself a bit of a pep talk, but I went up to her, introduced myself and she remembered me–”
“Dad, you were literally an NHL player.” (And Josh returned with the reality check.)
“She remembered me, and I asked if she wanted a drink and she said yes.” Nate finished, leg kicking out to poke his foot against Josh’s leg for interrupting him – but the younger MacKinnon was still looking rather lost on the entire subject.
“What then?” He pressed, yet again throwing you another worried glance, to which you simply grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit on your knee — he didn’t fight it like you expected, just put his arm around your neck, his hand resting comfortably against Nate’s forearm, and placed his head on your shoulder, yawning softly.
“Three years later I asked her to marry me and she said yes. And now,” Nate smirked, “we’ve been happily married for nine years, and have two beautiful children called Josh and Leyla.” 
You felt Josh sigh against your collarbone, “I don’t want to play the long game, Dad. Not like that.” 
You fought a grin at Nate’s drop in expression. You could tell he’d been expecting some blown out reaction of ‘wow’ or ‘wait, that was you and Mom?’, and the lack of thrill from Josh had clearly knocked his confidence a little, because he shifted, pulling a face.
“If I hadn't played the long game, you wouldn’t be here.” He reasoned, eyes flicking to you.
Instead, Josh lifted his head up, looking you dead in the face with your husband’s eyes, “Did you have a crush on Dad in school?”
You hesitated.
Nate mock-gasped, both hands flying over his mouth, even though you knew he already knew that little smidge of information.
“You didn’t?” Josh asked, recoiling slightly, “Then why did you tell me this story? I thought you were supposed to be inspiring me, not tearing me down and stripping me of my confidence?” He questioned, clearly appalled.
You laughed, “Okay, you gotta bear in mind that the first time I met your dad was on that class table. And it was only about four weeks until we were moved around again, and then he left to go to Minnesota, so he didn’t have time on his side at all.” You took a breath, “Or a pair of balls, apparently—”
Josh cackled at Nate’s expense.
“I can’t believe—” Josh giggled, “that you were literally in love with Mom, a-a—” he practically dissolved into a boneless heap in the middle of you and Nate, hand clutching his stomach, “and she didn’t even know you existed.”
“That’s not true.” You objected, “I knew Na—your dad existed, I just…Look.”
Josh dove into another fit of giggles at your struggle.
“If your dad hadn't talked to me in that one class as much as he did, he wouldn’t have left a good enough impression or given either of us a reason to catch up with each other all those years later. And when I saw him again, y’know, we’d both grown up. He was…This is probably gonna gross you out, but your dad was fucking hot when he came home—”
“Mom, language!” Josh scolded, a grin on his face.
“And he was polite, kind, funny, and impossible not to fall in love with. So, no, I didn’t really have a crush on him in school. I liked him, for sure, it had crossed my mind that he was cute, but it just wasn’t our time then.” You cringed internally (who’s time really was it at ten years old?), “But I definitely had a crush on him as a twenty-four year old adult.”
“Did that mean Dad was pretty much just, like, full-on in love with you at that point?” Josh queried, glancing between you both.
You looked at Nate, taking in his excitement at telling the story. You’d talked about it before, in hypotheticals just before you got married, about what your kids would think of the story of how you guys met. It wasn’t particularly exciting, there were no big confessions of love in the rain, or jealous exes, or miscommunications. It was simple, quiet and calm. Like turning on a light in the dark.
And it didn’t take an expert to be able to find the way that happiness seemed to pour out of Nate. He practically glowed with it. His eyes were wide and he hadn’t stopped smiling, and it was clear he’d been planning this conversation for a while: the keeping you in the dark thing was a welcome surprise, entirely shocking on your end, but you could tell he was just being honest.
“I wasn’t full-on in love with Mom at that point,” Nate squeezed your hand, “I was maybe a little bit in love, and part of that was because she was wearing a Halifax Mooseheads t-shirt when I saw her again.”
“What was the other part?” Josh quizzed, eyes a little heavier.
“That after one conversation I liked her even more than I did when we were in school, which I didn’t even think was possible.” 
You rolled your eyes fondly, “Don’t listen to him–”
“What? It’s true.” Nate interjected.
Josh watched the two of you bicker for a few seconds, a slow smile on his face. It wasn’t very often that you and Nate could really show him this was what you were like, between Leyla’s nappies, Josh’s hockey, Nate’s hockey, your job, household chores – the MacKinnon household was busy. The only time all four of you seemed to be in the same room at the same time was the occasional dinner and weekend, and even then it was a rare occasion. 
“You guys are just really big kids with really big crushes on each other.” Josh muttered quietly, shrugging at his realisation.
You stopped, words dying on your tongue as you took in what Josh had said. Then you looked at Nate – who seemed to be nodding without even realising it, “Yeah. Yeah, it kind of is.”
Then Josh shook his head, “So why can’t I believe what Dad says?”
“Because even after all of that, I made the first move. And said ‘I love you’ first–”
Nate guffawed from behind you, flicking your ear, “That's only because you made me nervous and I didn’t want to scare you.”
You tilted your head curiously at him, and judging from the way Nate’s eyes seemed to zip cautiously between you and Josh, you could only assume Josh was shooting him the same glance, “That’s pretty ironic considering I’m supposed to be the ‘quiet’ one.”
“You’re not that quiet, though, are you?” Nate teased affectionately–
“Is that a horny thing?” Josh scrunched up his nose, fidgeting uncomfortably and pulling a face like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, and you tried not to smile, shaking your head.
He was getting tired, you could tell. His attention was starting to dwindle, he was blinking sleepily, and you’d caught him trying to swallow a few yawns when Nate had been storytelling.
“No.” Nate frowned, “I just meant your mom isn’t quiet when you get to know her.”
You nodded, pushing yourself up off the sofa just as Leyla’s cries started to filter through the baby monitor next to Nate. Three pairs of eyes snapped to the small screen, and Nate picked the device up, turning to you and Josh with raised brows, “I’ll go check on her.” He ruffled Josh’s hair as he walked past, and you both watched him walk up the stairs.
Then Josh turned to you, eyes clearly struggling to remain awake for much longer.
“You know we’d never do any of that…um.” You hesitated, “Horny behaviour, in front of you.”
He nodded, yawning, “I know. I don’t mind the flirting, though.”
You swallowed, a little shocked by his revelation considering how much he seemed to protest against seeing it, “You don’t?”
“No, it’s nice to know you guys still like each other.” Then he huffed a laugh, “I had no idea you and Dad went to school together.”
You shrugged, placing a hand on the back of his head and nudging him towards the stairs. He went without complaining, turning back to look at you after your silence, “Well, I had no idea your Dad had a crush on me in school, so we both learnt something new tonight.”
“Wait, you didn’t?” Josh smiled, meeting you at the top of the stairs and peeking through Leyla’s door before following you towards his room.
“Nope.” You opened the door to his bedroom, facing an old trio of hockey posters that Nate had taken from his childhood room, “He might have played the long game, but I don’t think either of us would have changed it for the world. I mean, who knows, maybe if we’d have talked more in school, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Josh seemed to think about it as he climbed under his duvet, you choosing to lay at the foot of his bed as he made himself comfortable. 
“When did you know Dad was the one?” 
Your heart stuttered a little, and your words seemed to get tangled in your throat – momentarily caught off-guard by the question.
Truthfully, you weren’t aware there was a specific moment in time that made you stop and just know that Nate was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. It had built up slowly as your relationship progressed; talks of the future were brought up pretty early on considering what he did for a living, and eventually it got to the point where you just knew that there wasn’t going to be a breakup or a break. That realisation had just planted itself into your head, that it was gonna end in marriage, and you couldn’t have honestly dreamt of anything or anyone more suited to you.
There was no one, and then there was Nate.
“If I had to choose, though,” you wondered aloud, eyes briefly glancing at the family photo Josh had chosen to have on his bedside table, “I’d probably say that I knew, or at least suspected that your Dad might be it, about four months into us dating. Neither of us had said ‘I love you’ at that point, because actually getting to know each other with your Dad’s schedule was pretty hectic and the timezones made it difficult, but my grandma passed away and I had to fly home from Montreal–”
“Because you were working there, right?”
You nodded, a bittersweet smile on your face, “Yeah. And I remember I left your Dad a message before one of his games, and when I landed back in Nova Scotia, there were missed calls, texts and one voicemail; I waited until I got back home to listen to it, and it said something along the lines of ‘I’m so sorry, I know how much she meant to you, blah, blah, blah, is there anything you need or something I can get your family?’ And I remember thinking, ‘What? Why would he be asking me all of that?’ And then I looked at my texts and there was information for a flight and it turned out he’d booked the earliest one he could after finishing his game.” You took a breath, slowing everything down, “I cried for most of the two days he stayed and looked after us all. By that point, we’d known each other for about a year, but we’d only been dating four months, and it was the first time he met my family and he was an absolute angel.” You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat at the memory of that period in your life.
“Did Grandma and Grandad like him?” Josh snuggled further under his duvet, stifling a yawn with his hand.
You opened your mouth, about to answer, when the bedroom door creaked open and Nate padded in through the door, flicking the overhead light off and turning the bedside lamp on as he took a seat next to you. His hand came to rest on your thigh, a welcome and reassuring squeeze, but his attention was on Josh, “I think that signals bedtime.”
You nodded in agreement, but Josh seemed to blink manically and sat up in bed, his covers falling around his torso, “But I have way more questions—”
“And you can ask them tomorrow.” You promised, running a hand through his soft hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Are you okay with Aimee, though?”
He nodded, cheeks reddening as he seemed to shrink into himself again, and you smiled at his cuteness, “Love you, sleep tight.” You whispered, pulling away and letting Nate have his turn as Josh whispered them back.
You slipped out of the room, heading into Leyla’s room at the other end of the hall, tiptoeing in to peer over her crib bars. Nate had settled her again, and she was laid on her back, blonde hair a wavy mess, fists curled shut near her head. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful zipped up in her Bambi onesie. 
It was barely ten seconds later when you heard Nate’s steps creak the floorboards, his arms caging you in against the side of the cot as his front pressed against your back. His head came to rest on your shoulder, nose nudging the side of your cheek when you turned to face him.
“I can’t believe you had a crush on me in school, and you kept it from me for more than a decade.” You smirked, raising a smug brow in his direction as he bit the inside of his cheek.
“You mad?” He checked, no real concern in his tone as he fought to conceal the amusement in his eyes.
“No. Just shocked you managed to keep your mouth shut for so long.” 
He rolled his eyes, “Well, it was worth it.”
“You’re a sap sometimes, y’know.” You nudged him playfully, “But I wouldn’t change it.”
“No?” He hummed, and you shook your head in response.
You knew he heard the entire conversation with Josh – it would have been hard not to, considering Josh couldn’t whisper for shit, and Leyla’s room was directly opposite, but there wasn’t a need to talk about it immediately. It was partly because you’d talked about it before – it was something you’d both discussed in a whisper after he’d proposed – and also partly because you’d gotten to the point in your life where Nate had perfected the ability of reading you at any given point, and vice versa.
And right now, you were both pretty content.
“Leyla’s gonna come home from school one day and start talking about crushes.” You whispered, watching him closely as he scowled, glaring at you out of the corner of his eye.
It made you smile, not wanting to laugh in fear of disrupting her sleep.
“I don’t even want to think about that.” 
“It’s scary, right?”
“Terrifying. She’s my baby girl, I don’t want her to grow up.” He reasoned, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.
You were both silent for a while, watching her eyelashes flutter mid-dream, and her little fists gently clench and unclench.
“I wonder what she’ll be like.” You whispered.
You felt Nate breathe a laugh against your neck, “Hopefully not like Josh, in the nicest way possible, I don’t think my patience could take it.” He teased, eliciting you a gentle laugh.
“Josh is one of a kind.” You shook your head fondly. He could be cute most of the time, but when he loses his patience or gets too cocky (or just refuses to do the things you ask of him), he can be a little menace — something Nate struggled to get a handle on at first. 
They clashed a bit.
“It’s because he’s got your smarts—”
“But your fucking audacity.” You finished.
Nate gasped, a look of sheer disbelief written on his face, “That’s not true.” He denied, shaking his head.
“Your parents were the ones that said that.” 
He quietened, lips pulling down in a frown as his eyes focused on something you couldn’t see, “Really?”
You nodded, “I mean, I’m paraphrasing, they actually described Josh as a ‘smart boy but with Nate’s bold cheek.” You snickered as he pulled another face, letting go of the railings and stepping backwards for the door, “Need some time to think about it alone?” You teased.
Nate nodded, eyes wide, “I’m just gonna go get changed.” 
“M’kay, love you, Beefcake.”
“That one’s not come from me!” He hissed, smiling all the while, before disappearing from sight.
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potions-and-kindness · 4 months
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i love you people with Dermatillomania and yes i mean the person who’s relapsing yes i mean the person who doesn’t pick anymore, yes i mean the person who picks til their bloody, yes i mean you, you are loved, i promise
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kaicubus · 10 months
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Dating Jeremiah Fisher
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₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊
warnings ✩° : fluff, me cursing, that’s it i think.
pairing ✩° : jeremiah fisher x gn!reader
authors note ✩° : what would you guys do if i said i was team jeremiah.
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Golden retrievers take human form in Jeremiah Fisher. This is repeated for a reason because it's so accurate to who he is. Jeremiah LOVES attention, specifically your attention, and he'll do anything to get it. He's needy and energetic, seemingly having an endless supply of bursting positive energy.
And he kinda just looks like one. Look at him.
Bro is SO confident. So if you're shy or insecure, like a sponge, Jeremiah slurps all of it up and leaves you feeling like anything embarrassing you see yourself doing is gone. He's also very prone to making a fool out of himself, but he reassures you that you have no reason to feel that way around him.
Beams like the goddamn sun. Wear sunglasses around him, always.
Anything is a date with Jeremiah, even if you don't notice. He loves walking with you along the shore line or sitting in the sand, or even just being around him in bed or watching a show or movie. He considers every time he hangs out with you a date.
But for more serious dates, Jeremiah knows how to handle those. Seeing him all dressy. God. DAMN.
With any chance he gets, Jeremiah will go out of his way to tease you. At some point, you don't even consider it harmless teasing anymore, because Jeremiah will full on shove you into pools and jump out and scare you just to hear you scream all while he's laughing the entire time.
Jeremiah's love language has to be words of affirmation. If he doesn't know what's going on with you, he feels alone and left out. He always loves reminding you how much he loves you, how gorgeous you look, or how lucky he is to have you. Seriously, there is no line he hasn't crossed with being cheesy.
He's not the jealous type whatsoever, that's more Conrad's style, but that doesn't make him immune to feeling protective over you. At parties, if someone's talking to you in a certain flirty tone, he'll come up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head and try to join in on the conversation. If the person says something he doesn't like, he'll give a little squeeze on your side to let you know.
He will remember if you prefer silver or gold so he can buy you jewelry. He actually wears a matching necklace to yours in gold!
Since Jeremiah's always around you, there's a lot of inside jokes that start to develop. In fact, nearly everything turns into one. Some of those jokes tumble into nicknames for each other, besides the usual 'Jere' and 'Y/nie.'
Fights with Jeremiah never go beyond anything serious. The worst they've ever gotten was ignoring each other for three days before he ended up just flopping onto your bed with a stuffed animal of either your favorite animal or character. He's just silly.
At sunsets and sunrises is where Jeremiah loves being with you most. He thinks when the sun catches in your hair or even your eyes is a scene he can never forget.
Polaroids. All of the dopey pictures he takes of himself and you, mostly candids or really exaggerated facial expressions. His tongue is out in almost every single one of them.
Every drink you order or make will be sipped on casually by Jeremiah, you cannot save it or prevent it from happening. He usually comments very honestly, if something is good or if something needs more banana (which it never does. once you add banana to a smoothie it’s a fucking banana smoothie now).
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mrsfatu · 2 months
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Final Part: Duel Desires
part 1 HERE
Paring: Jey Uso x Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader
Warnings: kissing, fingering, oral fem receiving, swearing, p in v, smutty smutty smut, 18+
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Taglist: @empressdede @geekinstilettos @strxwberry-milku @southerngirl41 @mzv11 @femdisa
--
You found yourself positioned in the middle of Roman's room, flanked by Jimmy on one side and Jey on the other. The intense feeling of anxiety caused your skin to feel as though it was crawling with discomfort, each moment passing by like a slow, unsettling creep. 
Roman let out a light chuckle, his tone teasing as he remarked, "You look like you seen a ghost or somethin." Feeling the weight of his gaze, you nervously shifted your grip on the notebook in your hand before answering, "Just a bit nervous, that's all." Sitting up in his chair, Roman reassured you, "Don't be. We really need to discuss this upcoming interview you have with me." 
Your gaze traveled from Jimmy to Jey, your mind consumed with thoughts of whether they were aware of your sexual encounters with each other. The presence of both men had a magnetic pull on you, causing a delicious sense of weakness to seep through your body. Their eyes held a seductive allure as they watched you, sparking a tantalizing tension that left you yearning for more.
As you refocused your attention, you found yourself responding tentatively, "Um, yeah, sure. Where should we begin, Roman?" The air filled with nervous anticipation as the two of you delved into a thorough discussion, meticulously planning every aspect of how tomorrow's interview on "Tonight's Show" would be orchestrated and structured. Each detail was carefully analyzed, ensuring that nothing was left to chance in creating a captivating and flawless on-air performance.
-
During the interview, Roman abruptly receives a phone call, prompting him to dash out fiercely to attend to the urgent matter, leaving you in an unexpected situation with Jimmy and Jey. Anxiety grips you once again as you feel their intense gazes fixated on your body. In the midst of this tension, your grasp slips, causing your notebook to tumble to the floor. Reacting swiftly, both men rush to assist you, but a silent, charged moment ensues as they realize their mutual desire to be the one to aid you. Locked in a stare-off, a palpable sense of suspense hangs in the air between them, their eyes revealing unspoken words and uncharted territories of desire.
Realization crept over you that the situation was veering into dangerous territory. Their gaze locked onto each other, a silent battle of dominance unfolding as if they were unwittingly partaking in a competition over your affections. The intensity of their stares betrayed a hidden tension and unspoken rivalry, as if each twin was unaware of the sexual encounter you had with the other. 
In a tense exchange, Jey focused his gaze on Jimmy as he said, "aye, bruh, I got her." Jimmy's eyebrow raised in defiance, countered with, "Nah, uce, it's all me." Approaching you, Jey's hands found their way to your waist as he asked, "you ight? Is yo anxiety fuckin’ with you?" Before you could respond, Jimmy swiftly intervened, pulling Jey back by the arm, "I told you it's all me, fuck you doing, uce?" 
Jey withdrew from Jimmy's grip, his voice laced with irritation as he questioned, "the fuck you grabbing me like that for uce? yo ass over here acting like you did something with her." Your eyes widened with guilt, your stomach somersaulting as you struggled to process the situation. The two men fixated their gaze on you, your heart pounding frantically while your mind raced. Unable to withstand the tension any longer, you finally spoke up, confessing, "Fuck! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry if I gave you both the wrong idea, but I'm sorry. Jimmy fingered me, and Jey ate me out.” The room was filled with the weight of unspoken truths.
Jimmy's fist, connected with Jey's left eye. The room echoed with the sharp sound of the impact. Jey stumbled backward, clutching his face in pain, while Jimmy stood there.
You gasped sharply, "JIMMY!" Your voice pierces the air with disbelief. Roman burst into the room, his expression one of disgust as he reprimanded, "I leave for two minutes, and yall in here fighting? In my room?" Feeling overwhelmed by the tension and guilt, you stormed out without a backward glance, your fear palpable as you stomped down the halls. The weight of remorse coursed through your veins as you reached your room, seeking solace in your journal to release the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you.
You tore through the lavish hotel room, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. your hands rifled through drawers, under the bed, and inside the closet in a desperate search for your journal. The room, adorned with expensive furnishings, felt claustrophobic as your sobs filled the air. Each moment without your journal felt like a piece of you being stripped away. 
A knock echoed at the door, and through the veil of tears, Jimmy's face appeared. You opened the door with fury, demanding, "What do you want?" as you stormed through the room. Jimmy followed, apologizing, "I'm sorry, ight? I ain’t mean to trip like that." Your anger flared, "Nigga please. Yall act like CHILDREN. Get out." You yelled, backing up until you reached the end of your bed. Jimmy remained resolute, standing in front of you, "Not til you forgive me," he insisted. 
With a roll of your eyes, you met his challenging gaze, filled with a hint of mischief. "Bet," he murmured, then forcefully pushed you onto the plush bed. You began to protest, "Jimmy-" but he silenced you with a commanding tone, "Lay yo ass down." You did as you were told.
your eyes locked with his. He slowly began to undress you, starting with the unbuttoning of your jeans. As each button gave way, the tension between you intensified. Once your pants were removed, he then slid them off your legs, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in his presence.
He then knelt beside the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, as he prepared to explore the intimate depths of your pussy. With a soft whisper, he assured you of his intentions, "forgive me." your breaths shallow and rapid, as you surrendered.
His skilled fingers traced the contours of your body, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. As he gently parted your legs, he leaned in, his mouth teasing your most sensitive spots, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. The room was now filled with the sounds of your passion, as he continued to explore you with his tongue, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you. You could feel his beard gliding along the wetness of your pussy, “so fuckin’ wet for me huh?” he mumbled.
His skilled tongue danced over your most sensitive spot, sending shivers through your body and causing your back to arch in pleasure. Each touch ignited a fire within you, and your moans grew more intense with each passing moment. "Fuck, Jimmy… Jimmy," you cried out, your voice echoing in the room as your body trembled under his expert attention.
He hummed in response, a low, satisfied sound that vibrated through your core, further fueling your arousal. "Mhm, feel that shit, mama," he murmured, his words dripping with sensuality. His voice alone was enough to push you closer to the edge, as you clung to the pleasure he was providing, your body writhing beneath his skilled touch.
He positioned your legs on his shoulders, creating a deeper access to your core. He asked, "Did he eat you like this, hmm? This what you like?" His words were a mix of tease and dominance, sending a thrill through you as you nodded, your voice barely audible, "Yes."
He let out a low chuckle, watching you squirm beneath his gaze, your body responding to his every touch. The sight of your vulnerability and desire only fueled his own arousal, as he continued to explore you with his tongue, burying himself deeper into your pussy.
Your passion built, gasping, "I'm gonna-," you whispered, "mhm, cum in my mouth," he groaned as he intensified his kiss on your most sensitive spot. Your climax washed over you, causing shivers to ripple through your being, and he gently laid your legs back down, savoring the aftermath.
-
After you had been intimate, you and Jimmy laid in each other's arms, enjoying the rush of emotions that came with being so close.  As you laid there, you couldn't stop thinking about how amazing it felt to be with him, but you also felt the desire to cool off and relax. The idea of going to the pool popped into your mind, and you decided to act on it. 
"I'm gonna go hit the pool, you coming?" you asked Jimmy as you rummaged through your bag to find your swimsuit. He shook his head, feeling comfortable where he was. "Nah, I got too comfortable, you go ahead. I'll probably hit the gym later." 
You nodded in understanding, slipping into your swimsuit as you prepared to head out. The thought of feeling the cool water against your skin was enticing, and you were eager to take a refreshing swim. With a quick goodbye to Jimmy, you made your way to the pool, ready to soak in the peacefulness and beauty of the water.
-
As you made your way towards the pool, you couldn't help but admire the beauty of the surroundings. The lush greenery, the vibrant flowers, and the soothing sound of flowing water created a peaceful atmosphere. Your eyes were drawn to the pool, the sparkling blue water glistening in the sunlight, inviting you to take a dip and relax.
But as you approached closer, your attention shifted to a figure sitting in the pool with his back facing you. He had a distinct appearance - his wet, perfectly styled mullet, the intricate tribal tattoos that covered his muscular back, and a shiny Cuban link necklace around his neck. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized who it was - Jey.
With a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you took slow steps towards Jey, finally sitting down in the pool beside him. The sight of the black and blue bruise covering his eye filled you with a sense of guilt and concern. You reached out and gently grasped his face, your voice filled with sincerity as you apologized.
"I'm so sorry," you said, your eyes welling up with emotion. Jey, however, tried to reassure you, his tone calm and understanding. "It's okay, ma. I ain't trippin'." He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours, attempting to convey that there was no need for you to worry.
"Look, let's have fun or sum, you can swim?" he asked, gauging your swimming abilities. You shook your head, admitting that you couldn't swim. “Lemme teach you then”, his offering evident in his voice. "Fine, but don't drop me or I'll beat your ass," you said, trying to maintain a lighthearted atmosphere.
"Yeeet!" he exclaimed. Your eyes grew wide as You let out a small giggle. “Why you laughing?" he asked, curious about your reaction. You couldn't help but mock him in return, “ yeeet!”.
He rolled his eyes, "Man, come here so I can help yo ass swim." His words were filled with good-natured mockery, and you couldn't help but smile as you prepared to take his help and learn how to swim together.
Jey stood in the pool in front of you, grabbing your arms to pull you in deeper. Eventually the water came up to your neck. You began to look around you at the water, feeling as if you’re being choked and might possibly drown, “j-jey this is too deep” you said nervously. He grabs you by the waist, “cmere I got u,” he said. He swiftly pulled you up by your thighs, wrapping them around his waist, “better?” He asked. “Yeah” you answered softly.
God he looked so sexy. The tats, the hair, the chain, HIS GRILL. And you couldn’t even help the fact that you could see Jimmy in his eyes as well.The quietness felt heavy. "I'm still sorry for your eye," you mention. "I know baby," he replies. His eyes gleamed as his dick pulsed. You desperately moved your hips into his. With one of his hands, he moved it in between the two of you. Going further towards your aching pussy. “Jey-“ “shh ma.” He made little circles on your clit, “god” you moaned. 
As he continued to explore you, his touch became more arousing, and with a gentle ease, he inserted his middle finger within you. It was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan softly as you adjusted to his finger.
Once you were comfortable, he began to move with a rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. Your moans grew louder, filling the indoor pool with the sound of your desperate moans. "Oh my god, Jey," you cried out, your voice filled with a mixture of surprise and pleasure.
He responded to your cries by increasing the pace of his movements, his touch becoming more assertive as he guided you towards the peak of ecstasy. he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a wave of pleasure through you. "Mhh. Did he finger you like this? hm?" he teased, his voice low and seductive. You couldn't help but nod in response, your eyes locked onto his, filled with gratitude for this incredible connection.
"Yes. Yes," you said, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own moans. As the climax approached, you felt yourself losing control, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. "Come for me, ma," he demanded, his voice filled with desire and lust. "Cum on my hand ma, you can do it."
And with those words, you did just that. Your body convulsed as waves of ecstasy washed over you, your moans filling the room as you reached the pinnacle of pleasure. Jey held you close, his touch gentle and reassuring, as you rode the waves of your orgasm.
"Lemme walk you to yo room," he whispered, his voice low. Having experienced two orgasms in one day, you felt a sense of euphoria wash over you, leaving you both breathless and a little dazed. As you stood there, leaning against Jey's strong embrace, he walked you two to the steps of the pool. He gently puts you down.
He supported you, guiding you towards your room. When you finally reached your room, Jey helped you inside, and Jimmy was standing in the center, waiting for you.
Tensions rose as Jimmy's anger flared once more, and Jey found himself becoming agitated as well. You tried to intervene, your voice calm and steady as you asked, "I thought you went to the gym."
Jimmy's gaze shifted to Jey, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and confusion. "I ain't wanna go no more," he replied, his voice tinged with resentment. Jey decided to intervene. "Why you here?" he inquired, his own temper simmering just beneath the surface. Undeterred, Jimmy stepped closer, his voice echoing Jey's question. "Why you here?" you attempted to diffuse the situation. "Don't start this," you pleaded, your hand slapping against your head in frustration. "I'm tired of it."
Despite your efforts, it seemed as though neither Jimmy nor Jey were willing to back down, their anger and frustration fueling the growing tension between them. You couldn't help but worry that the situation would spiral out of control if they didn't find a way to resolve their differences.
"What you do, uce?" Jimmy inquired, his tone tinged with suspicion. Jey responded by wrapping his hand around your neck, asserting, "I'll show you what I did." With a swift movement, Jey spun you around and leaned in to kiss you passionately. As his lips met yours, a wave of desire and intensity passed between you, leaving Jimmy visibly frustrated and agitated. In a moment of jealousy and defiance, Jimmy took hold of your hand and spun you around to face him. He pressed his lips forcefully against yours, his tongue entering your mouth in a possessive, almost aggressive manner.
It was like they were competing on who could kiss you better, eat you better, finger you better, and get you wetter. Jey spun you around and demanded, "Get on the bed, ma." You complied, taking a seat on the bed with your knees bent, your eyes darting between the two men.
The tension between Jimmy and Jey hung heavy in the air, as they stood facing each other in a tense, unspoken confrontation. After a moment of intense scrutiny, they exchanged a subtle nod, signaling an unspoken understanding between them.
With the air now charged with anticipation, Jey made his way to the edge of the bed, while Jimmy positioned himself behind you. The room seemed to grow smaller as the two men prepared to make their moves, and you couldn't help but feel caught in the middle of their unspoken agreement.
Although unsure of where this was headed at the moment. Jey gently lifted your chin with a tender touch, while Jimmy deftly removed your bikini, guiding you into a position on all fours.
As Jimmy tenderly caressed your backside, Jey's hand softly grazed your cheek, his eyes searching yours for a sign of trust. "Do you trust us?" Jey questioned, his voice filled with a mix of concern and desire. With a silent nod, you conveyed your willingness to surrender.
But Jimmy, wanting a more explicit confirmation, encouraged you to vocalize your trust. "Use your words, mama," he urged. For a moment, hesitation hung in the air before you finally mustered the courage to respond, "Y-yes," your voice tinged with anticipation.
Jey and Jimmy, both undressing with an air of confidence and desire, revealed their arousal to you. As their clothing fell to the floor, you couldn't help but notice the impressive size of both men. Your eyes widened in a mix of surprise and anticipation.
You found yourself drawn to Jey, his erection standing proud before you. Simultaneously, Jimmy positioned himself at the entrance of your dripping pussy, the anticipation of the moment heightening your senses. Your gaze shifted back and forth between the two men, your focus returning to Jey as he gently guided his member to your lips. With a shared look of understanding, they exchanged a single nod, signaling their readiness to proceed. 
Jey's dick slowly filled your mouth, while Jimmy's slid deep within your core. Your tightness surprised them both, but the pleasure it brought was undeniable, and you couldn't help but moan in response.
"So fucking tight, mama," Jimmy groaned, his voice filled with a mix of lust and desire. Jey, too, couldn't resist voicing his pleasure, "mm-fuck, your mouth feels so good, ma," he murmured between fucking your face. The rhythm of their movements intensified, their bodies rocking in harmony with yours.
As they drove deeper into you, Jimmy's hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a stinging imprint on the plump flesh. "This ass so damn fat," he growled, his voice a mix of dominance. Your moans echoed through the room, a blend of pleasure and pain that only heightened your arousal.
Jey, with a firm grip on your face, thrust deeper into your mouth, his movements forcefully fucking your face, reaching the back of your throat. Meanwhile, Jimmy expertly stroked your G-spot, causing your legs to weaken and your pussy to leak uncontrollably.
Jimmy then pulled himself out of you as jey did the same. Jimmy rose off the bed and jey held you by your throat as he laid you on your back. As Jimmy moved to the hem of the bed, jey then laid beside you and positioned you on top of him. You settled down onto Jey's eager dick, feeling the warmth and fullness as his arousal filled you. At the same time, Jimmy positioned himself at your mouth, eager to explore your sensuality.
Jey's grip on your throat tightened, his eyes locked with yours as he said, "Ride this dick, ma." His words were filled with raw desire, urging you to take control of the situation.
You rode him up and down, hard as you took jimmy in your mouth. You wanted to make him plead to cum, both of them. With every downward motion, your wetness coated Jey's balls, a testament to your arousal. Meanwhile, your throat welcomed Jimmy's length, accepting every inch he had to offer. "Oh fuck!" Jey moaned, his facial expression revealing his desperateness as he displayed his grillz. Jimmy couldn't help but add, "Mama, you're doing so good!" His head threw back in response to your skills. 
You bounced harder on jeys thick dick as you fully took jimmy's dick balls deep into your throat. “Why you fuckin’ me like dis, ma?” jey whimpered in agony. Jimmy said, “lemme cum in that mouth mama, p-please.” as jey agreed, “yea, lemme cum in this wet ass pussy. Fuuuck, please.” With that being said, you sped up your rhythm. Jimmy's thighs trembled as he released his climax into your mouth, his moans mingling with a stuttering "mmh, i- shit." Meanwhile, Jey's pulsating dick filled you, his dick expelling cum as his legs twitched in response to the heightened sensations, “fuuuuck,” he moaned. Far from finished, you began to grind against Jey's now sensitive length, your voice rising in a wail, "I'm gonna cum!" Jey nodded, urging, "Cum on my dick." And so, you did, your orgasm building from your sensitive g-spot and rapidly expanding, eventually overwhelming your entire body.
Gently lowering yourself onto Jey, you found yourself in a tender embrace alongside Jimmy, who sat up beside you. A moment of confidence passed between Jey and Jimmy as they shook hands. As Jimmy tenderly stroked your thick curls, Jey's hand provided a comforting caress to your back, enveloping you in warmth and support.
After thoughtful consideration, you realized that choosing between the two of them would be impossible. You found yourself in need of both the assertive presence of Jimmy and the reassuring comfort of Jey. Together, they complemented each other perfectly in every aspect imaginable.
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nahoney22 · 1 year
Text
Beyond the Fall***
Tech X F!Reader
word count: 6.8k
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*gif is mine so please credit if used.*
warnings: Spoilers for TBB Episode 9. Enemies to Lovers NSFW. Explicit Sexual Content, sex pollen, dub-con in both parties but also somewhat pretty aware, solo masturbation (reader), begging, swearing, slight mention of breeding kink, several positions, p in v, rough sex, creampie but reader mentions that she is protected. accidental confessions of true feelings I suppose. comfort at the end. Arguing at the start. Not proofread ngl.
When you take a tumble down a deep hole, you did not think for a second that Tech would dive in straight after you. With tensions on the high anyway, what fares when you both experience a certain aphrodisiac within the water.
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“Tell me, how exactly did you and Wrecker miss our ship being compromised?”
You watched in shocked awe as the Marauder, your home for going on the last eight months flying away without a crew member on board. Luckily, Wrecker answered Tech’s irritating question for you.
“Maybe if you hadn’t docked it out of view, we would have seen someone approaching.”
“Well, there was no other suitable landing zone, Wrecker.” Tech scolds.
“Yes there was,” you snapped at the goggled clone, eyes fuming with anger, “I suggested landing just on the ledge above and you said no.”
“The terrain was not suitable so I suggest you do not tell me where to dock my ship.”
You laughed mockingly at him, scoffing. “Your ship? How about next time you be the lookout then!”
“Perhaps I will.” He retorted, posture tense, “Although, the likelihood of getting the ship back is very slim.” His brown eyes are frowning at you from behind his helmet. His eyes always had that judging look when he looked your way which was enough to make your blood boil. 
But when you looked at Omega, your heart sank. The others may not have noticed but you didn’t miss the glistening of unshed tears in her eyes as the bunch of you argue. 
“Don’t worry Omega, it will be fine.” You reassure her softly, placing a hand to her shoulder.
Ever since Echo departed with Rex, the atmosphere had been tense. There was something about the man that had managed to keep the squad together, and with his departure, the cracks were starting to show. Nonetheless, this did not have a significant effect on your relationship with Tech, which had always been a bit unsteady.
“Other than the fact we have barely any food, shelter and mode of transportation, sure.” Tech interjects shortly before strutting off. You shot him an annoyed look before rolling your eyes. 
“Ignore him.” You tell her before the lot of you venture off to find any signs of life.
————
“What is your issue?”
With the Ipsium now gone, a rare and expensive mineral that you all came to this damned planet for, you find yourself trapped inside one of the vaults after the mineral exploded. So clearly, the mishap of the ship going missing was the start of the downfall.
His words were somewhat callous and lacked sympathy as he spoke down to Omega who was very frustrated and emotional, her young self looking to each and every one of you. Unfortunately, it was Tech who had to open his mouth.
You watched Omega leave, Hunter trying to get her to stay but after she insisted she wanted to be alone. As the team turned to Tech, you could sense their agitation and annoyance with his lack of empathy. You couldn't help but add your own thoughts to the mix, clapping slowly with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.
"Good job, Tech," you said, trying to make him understand the gravity of his words.
Tech, who had taken a seat on a boulder, was confused and looked over at you, frowning. "What did I say wrong?"
"You were stating the obvious," you voice with a grunt, grabbing your water canister and taking a gulp before saying, "but maybe you could've been a bit more empathetic."
“Would you rather me lie to her?” He counters, raising his brow as if to challenge you.
"It's not about lying, Tech. It's about understanding, especially in times like these." 
"I was simply using logic," Tech defended himself. "Telling her the truth is the best way to handle the situation."
You took a deep breath, trying to control your rising frustration. "It's not about just telling her the truth, Tech. It's about how you say it.” 
Although you did not particularly like Tech, nor did he seem to like you it seems, you felt a little bad that you had to discuss with him his lack of social skills and emotional response to certain situations. He had always been this way, down to his genetic programming but for someone so smart, he can’t see the bigger picture sometimes. “Can’t you see she is upset?”
“I am aware that Omega is frustrated at the present moment but that has nothing to do with me. Omega needs to be aware that these situations happen and one of us has to be the voice of reason and therefore, logical conversation is the best approach.” He holds his finger in the air, “I understand if this goes over your head.”
You gritted your teeth, trying to contain your anger but to no avail. "Will you stop being an arse to me? We're all in the same boat here, and I will not have you speak to me like that!" Your raised voice strained as you spoke. Never had you been so bitter towards someone in your life as of right now. Not only has he made matters worse with an already sensitive Omega, he blamed you for not seeing the ship being taken, he basically called you stupid to your face… you’re surprised steam was not coming out of your ears at this point.
You storm off for a few minutes to collect yourself and in the meantime, Hunter folds his arms and glares across at his brother. “Well that’s one way of telling her you like her.” 
Tech went to speak but no words came out, a little aghast at Hunter's insinuation. “I do not know what you’re talking about.” He mumbled a tad.
“Sure you don’t.” He unfolds his arms and begins to push away at some of the rocks. “Get back to work.”
Tech spots you from the corner of his eyes, your hands running over your face in presumed stress and just for a mere second, he is conflicting with his emotions.
———
The second you heard that Tech was off to find Omega, you don’t really know why Hunter and Wrecker suggested you go with him. Albeit, something in your gut was telling you to go along anyway, so you did.
Your heart was thumping with every step you took alongside him, the eeriness of the mine only adding to the palpable tension.
“Question, why do you think they wanted you to come with me?”
You’re surprised he’s making conversation but that wasn’t exactly unlikely of him. 
“I don’t know.” You grunt, not interested in talking to him at all at the moment. You also had a feeling it was so he didn’t upset Omega even more and to smooth things out but Hunter could sense how irate you got around Tech so this little mission together will be enlightening. 
When you nudged Tech and pointed towards Omega’s gear on the floor, you’re a little precarious to see her extracting the mineral that got them in this mess in the first place.
“Hey love, you doing alright?” You ask softly, peering through the small hole she had made to crawl through. When your heart landed on the large gaping hole beside her feet however you grew hot under your collar. 
“Fine.” She muttered, extracting the last bit from the section she was at. “What are you two doing here?”
"We came to see where you were, of course," you say softly, hoping to bring some comfort to her. That is until Tech decides to interject.
"And to find some Ipsium," he blurts out, causing you to shoot him a disapproving look. He quickly gets the message and coughs, trying to rectify the situation. "Which you are already cleverly extracting for us. Great job."
“No,” Omega mutters, pulling the drill away and finally looking up at you both, “why are you two here? Together? You hate one another.”
The pair of you froze. Even though it was clear that there was some kind of tension between the two of you, always bickering, hate was certainly a strong word. In fact, you knew what it was like to hate someone and you never felt it with Tech. You felt something, though you could not pinpoint what it was exactly.
Tech looks at you, gauging your reaction but he did not understand the look on your face. 
“Hate is not the word I would use.” You finally speak up, voice a little timid as Tech stood next to you. You didn’t want to add fuel to the already blazing fire between the pair of you, nor did you want to upset Omega any further. “We just have different thoughts about things.”
She blinks at you both before subtly rolling her eyes. “Whatever you say.”
You sighed, head slumped before moving out of the way to let Tech speak with her. 
Thankfully, Tech quickly changes the topic. “How much have you extracted?”
“Just this vial. Figured we could use it to blow ourselves out of here.” She holds it up to him, a little irritated that he didn’t take it from her grasp.
You stood back and watched the exchange and you can tell he is definitely trying to make it up to her. Although he is not apologising upfront nor discussing it, you figured his best approach is to forget it and move on.
When they both come up with an agreement, the tension slowly fading away between them, there’s one vial left but the extraction point looks just a little bit out of Omega’s reach.
“I’ll get that one if you want?” You suggest, not liking the way she was almost creeping over the edge of a large black hole.
Omega wants to finish the job herself but knows that you were probably better suited as you were taller. “Okay, I’m going to go back to the others then.” She wipes some sweat off her brow before swapping places with you.
Tech peers through the hole you just crawled in, tapping away at his datapad. “Are you aware of how this procedure goes?” He asks once Omega vacates the area. 
You reach down and grab the drill, looking to the final piece that was in a very precarious place. “Yep.” You reply shortly, trying not to get distracted.
“Do we really need this last one?” You mutter more to yourself but Tech had a keen ear.
“If we are to have extra, then not only can we escape this place but we will also be compensated for it.” He pushes his goggles up his nose. “So yes.”
“Great.”
It was no easy feat and several times you had to alter your position, crouching, leaning and every other position to make sure you’re safe but it didn't help at all when you had someone breathing down your neck.
“Are you nearly done?” You jump a little, turning around to see Tech staring at you with a bored expression. 
“I’m trying my best, Tech.” You sneer, turning back to the task at hand.
“You need to lean closer.” 
You groan in frustration and enthusiastically point to the gaping abyss. “Do you need your goggles cleaned or can you not see this hole? I’ll be done, when I’m done!” 
In a moment of weakness, you had reached across as prodded by Tech but just a tad overstepped, sending you over the edge.
“Tech!” You squeak, clawing onto the jagged rocks to hold yourself up, panic shooting through you as your feet scrambled to cling onto anything.
His eyes widen in horror and in a blink he is by your side, reaching across to you. “Take my hand.”
You take a breath and let go with one hand, reaching for him. But as your fingers brush against his, you’re not strong enough to hold on and fall into the abyss.
He screams your name, standing up and with no second thought, he jumps down after you. 
The water was tumultuous as you struggled to keep your head above the water. Your arms and legs are kicking, the energy you had slowly fading as you struggle against the current.
Then you heard your name.
“Tech!” You called out with a sob as the water thrashed over your face and partially down your throat.
He swam towards you as fast as he could, shouting your name as you cried out for help while your body crashed against the jagged rocks, your lungs filling with water.
But Tech soon caught up to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you both rode the current into the unknown. When you were suddenly confronted by a waterfall, you both cascaded over it, splashing into a peaceful pool.
You emerged from the water, gasping for air but began to panic when you didn't see your savior; Tech.
“Tech! Where are you?” You gasp, searching the water to see if he had been swept under 
but relief washes through you as he quickly emerged from the water moments later, gasping for breath and searching for you.
You both lock eyes, panting heavily before you start to swim for an embankment, crawling onto land. You’re coughing violently, some water pumping out of you as Tech collapsed onto his back, pulling his goggles back to wipe away the water droplets.
You lay staring at the rocky yet blue illuminated ceiling, catching back your breath as your wet clothes hung to your body. You sit up eventually, looking at the bright pool of blue you and Tech just got submerged in before glancing around. 
“It appears we have entered an underground aqueduct surrounded by plenty of Ipsium.” Tech acknowledges, sitting up and looking around too. “Not the best place for you to lure us into but not the worst.”
You processed his words and even now, he had the nerve to put the blame on you. “Are you saying this is my fault?” 
“Partly, yes.” He replies nonchalantly.
You scoff, standing up and moving away from him. “I can’t believe you. Are you really doing this? Now?”
He watches you move and stands too but remains where he was. “Simply stating facts.”
You look at him in disbelief, running a hand through your sopping wet hair. “Did I ask you to jump down with me?”
He shifts, suddenly feeling a little warm under the collar. “Well no but-.”
“And was I the one to initially upset Omega?”
“It can be argued we all had a part in that-.”
“Was it you who allowed me to get the last bit of Ipsium?” You bombard him with questions, all of it leading up to now. “Was it you who told me to lean in closer?”
His jaw clenched, fists tightening. “If you and Wrecker had not let our ship get stolen, we wouldn’t be here at all.”
“I told you to dock it somewhere else! In view!” You shout, voice booming around the small hidden cave. 
“And why would I rely on anything you have to say to me? You have not an ounce of my intelligence nor knowledge of planets. You do not know how to drive a ship, let alone instruct the pilot where it should land.” He rants, eyes trained on you, both of your breathing hard and heavy, tension so thick it felt like nothing could cut it. “Know your place in this squad.” 
His words hurt. A lot. No matter how much you bickered he had never said anything so belittling to you. Stress is evident on both of your faces given the situation but to hear how he supposedly felt about you was difficult to swallow. “I… you’re impossible.” You whisper but he still hears it. 
The second he heard you sniffle, he wanted to instantly narrow it down that you instantly got a cold from the water but as you aggressively wiped away a tear and stormed off, he knew he took it too far. Does he chase after you? No. He figured you wanted to be left alone just like he learnt with Omega. So in the meantime, he tried to contact the others.
You sat on the other side of the cave, your knees hugged to your chest as you just sat and hoped that Tech could summon a message to the others. In the meantime as you sat, you tried to ignore the odd pulse circulating under the skin of your palms. But, it started getting progressive and a wave of scorching heat flushed your body.
A whimper parts your lips and you begin to quickly strip the gear from your body and throw it around you carelessly. “Why’s it so fucking hot in here?” You gasp to yourself, tugging on the high collar of your body glove.
“I too am suddenly feeling quite feverish.” Tech’s voice sounded next to you making you jolt. As you look up at him, your eyes drank in his tall, slender figure. You swallow the saliva that started to pool in your throat, pushing the clouded thoughts to the back of your mind. 
“Did you get contact with the others?” You rasp, moving yourself onto your knees, staring down at the water as you try and steady your breathing that suddenly becomes ragged and scratched at your throat. 
Tech shakes his head and quietly sits beside you, unconsciously tugging at his now soaked clothes as he feels as though he’s been dipped in lava. “No, I can’t get a clear signal.” He says steadily, blinking quickly as sweat starts to seep into his goggles and blur his vision. 
You could almost moan in despair but the only whimper that parted through your lips was one of searing pleasure.
“T-Tech, do you feel… different?” You whisper, looking up at him through hooded eyes.
Tech looks back down at you, pulling his goggles up onto his head to swipe the dripping of sweat from his eyes and he almost gasps at the sight of you. 
Your lips looked full, parted and wanting. Your skin glowed with a distinctive hue that he couldn’t quite put his finger on but as he stands above you, seeing you on your knees a wave of pleasure shoots straight to his cock. He closes his eyes, tight. Mentally trying to snap him out of this precarious situation and then an idea popped into his head. 
His hands, now shaking and pulsing under his gloves reach to one of his many sections of his utility belt before pulling out a single vial, and swiping up the water the pair of you plummeted in. 
You chew on the inside of your cheek. Hard. So hard you think you think you could have drawn blood but it’s nothing compared to the bite at the center of your core as your heart races with nothing but desire. You needed to touch yourself. 
“Oh dear,” he finally says.
“What is it?”
Tech slumps against one of the boulders that surrounded the cave, a mixture of different emotions flushing through him. Confusion, worry and a whole lot of desire. “The water… it appears to be polluted which is why we are reacting to it.”
“You want to narrow that down?” You groan, falling onto your back as your fingers deep into the rough texture of sand beneath your body to refrain yourself from reaching down and begin to relieve this brewing sensation. 
Tech's eyes that were trying so hard to stare at the datapad in his hand only start to move to longing gaze at you, watching you physically writhe on the floor as a mixture of whines and moans erupt from your mouth. “It’s polluted with,” he gulps, trying to now ignore how physically aching it was to feel his length pressed against his pants, “aphrodisiacs.”
The word itself made you mewl and although you should feel panicked and alarmed, the burning feeling between your legs followed by the throbbing pulse all over your body was taking over instead. “W-what do we do?” 
Not knowing what he was doing, his hand lowers to his crotch and stars to slowly palm himself at the sight of you tugging and tearing at your bodysuit to rip it from your body. The moment of weakness stops and he quickly snaps out of what he’s doing and diverts his gaze and body away from you. “To erase the side effects you will need to masturbate in order to form the release. An o-orgasm,” he grunts, gripping onto the boulder as the word makes his cock twitch, “is the only way to stimulate. I will leave you alone to engage in this process.” 
The second Tech moves away to the other side of the cave to take care of himself, you have pulled yourself out of your body glove and began the impulse of pleasuring yourself.
Your hand flushed down your thigh and then to your bare sex, pressing two fingers harshly down against your clit that had you wailing out in ecstasy. “Oh f-f-fuck!” Your whole body arches in response to the touch to your bud, circling motions rapidly as you beg for the quick release that is brewing. 
Your moans and swears echo around the cave, deafening out the noise of the waterfall that poured down. But it’s not enough.
Frantically, your fingers move to your sopping  wet entrance, curling inside of you and rubbing back and forth as your opposite hand now rubs furiously at your clit. Although your body spasms, the burning that felt like your body was aflame with sexual desire would not fade. Moans become erratic, it isn’t long until you’re begging for your own release as you writhe pathetically on the ground. 
Then, you said his name. The one person who you knew could push you over the edge. “Teeeeeech,” you call his name. Wanting. Needing.
Within the space of maybe ten seconds, a shadow looms over your sweating and spasming body and as your eyes open, you melt to see Tech in the nude, pumping his cock that was glistening in precum.
“You look so wonderful like that,” he purrs, licking his lips as he stands over you and strokes his cock in frantic motions. “I knew it wouldn’t be long until you would be begging for me.”
“P-please Tech,” you grit, fingers going completely numb with the constant strumming against your clit, “it’s too much, I need you.”
The second your back arches, Tech falls to his knees beside you and slings an arm around your back. He’s swift in his movements and he’s uttering the most indiscreet filth he could before diving his fingers straight into your core without a second thought.
His fingers hook inside you, pulsing all the while expertly have his thumb rubbing at your bud. 
“Oh my stars! Tech, please don’t stop, please make this burning go away.” You beg him, writhing under his touch as his hand rocks against you, sending you into a flurry of loud groans. 
“That’s it darling, take my fingers. Maker, you’re sublime and a little begging mess for me. Glorious.” Tech grunts as his hand starts to spasm, his pace relentless and despite wanting you to cum all over his fingers so he could taste you, he didn’t expect for a second for your hand to come down and grab at his cock and balls.
Your hands look small in comparison to his length, his skin hot to the touch that felt like silk. With your touch alone, it has him bucking his hips as you both mutually pleasure one another. “You’ve got such a pretty cock, Tech,” you whimper, looking down at his member that twitched in your hands both somewhat aware and non aware of the lewd words that pour from your lips. 
“And you’ve got the most perfect little pussy that needs pleasuring. And am I doing that?” Tech locks eyes with you, dark and filled with an unspoken need. “Am I pleasuring you enough?”
“Yes! Fuck yes, you are. I think I’m going to cum soon.” You tremble and in your heart, you didn’t want him to stop the incessant rampage of his fingers against your cunt. 
As you pump along his throbbing cock, Tech feels himself start to edge closer and close to his release. He’s whimpering, a sound you never thought you’d be blessed of hearing but there’s something about him that makes you tingle. His eyes trail down from your face to your breast, mouth salivating at the thought of ramming his cock between the perfect mounds.
“Kiss them, please.” You had caught his leering and without a second thought he bends down and latches his lips to your stiff peaks, tongue licking aggressively against the sensitive skin. 
Your legs begin to shake, the touch of his hands agaisnt you, the feeling of his tongue licking feverishly against you followed by the gesture of you wanking caused your body to shoot, making you wail as you hit your climax. 
Tech follows soon after, his hot ribbon seeping over your fist as he his hips stutter.
You let out a longing gasp, elbows shaking as you prop yourself up to see Tech’s glistening fingers pull out of your body lewdly. 
The silence was ringing and for a moment, you didn’t dare look to Tech. Your heart race is the realisation of what just took place began to hit but not as quick as another jolt of pulsations straight to your clit once again.
“Tech,” you rasp out and consciously grip onto his wrist, shaking, “I’m sorry but-.”
“I’m aware.” Tech whispers and as you finally meet his gaze, you look down and see that his cock was already hard and twitching for your touch. 
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you manage out before the aphrodisiac overpowers you once again.
Tech nods quickly in understanding and in the faintest of touches, he cups your cheek, “I know.” 
Quicker than before, the wave of desire washed over you both and simultaneously you both lean in, lips slanting over one another as his tongue plunged straight into your mouth. Both of you fought against each other, thick muscles that spent so much time bickering at another now dancing in a fiery passion. 
He’s crawling on top of you now, his cock sliding against your thigh and stomach as you maintain this intense make out session but it was going on for too long. You just couldn’t bear another second without his cock inside of you.
 “Fuck me,” you plead, “I need you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk for a week. I want you to ram your cock so deep inside me, please.” You moan against his lips, words of filth that were almost unholy to hear that made Tech let out a guttural snarl as he pulled away from your lips and quickly positioned himself between your now spread legs.
His tip presses to his entrance but he’s not shy in letting his hands roam your body, tweaking your nipples before resting them on your hips. “Maker, you do look breedable.”
In one quick motion, he’s breached your entrance in a swift motion, buried inside you.
“STARS! TECH!” Your cries in delight boom around the cave, your body beautifully glowing from the pool of water beside you both as he almost bottoms out ontop of you. 
“K-Kriff,” he stutters, feeling your walls clench around him like a vice, the burning through his veins temporarily subsiding before absolutely rocking his cock in and out of you like a man desperate for air.
His hands clasp at your waist, fingers biting down into your flesh as your body shoves down against the ground with every resounding thrust he gives you. “Could fuck this little pussy all night if I have to,” he grunts through gritted teeth, eyes dark.
If you weren’t intoxicated by this sensation you would be in complete shock at his words, but instead you let his words carve into your mind as his hips rock back and forth all the while your gazes are locked on another. 
In a moment of weakness, his hand moved from your hip and over your breast, caressing the soft mound with his fingers as a devilish smirk plasters his face. “I’ve always imagined your breasts to be divine to touch. So wonderful to know I was correct.” He sings, admiring you from above.
“They’re all yours Tech,” you submit to him, eyes heavy, “you can have me whenever, wherever. Just please don’t stop.”
A noise emits from him and you gasp as he manages to flip you so you're now on your front, forced to your hands and knees before he starts to take you from behind, spanking your cheeks with his thighs with every hard thrust. “You shouldn’t have said that mesh’la, can you not understand that I have wanted to fuck you for so, so long? Having to, ugh fuck-.” He pauses his unfiltered words, in awe of how pretty you looked arched downwards as he seethes his aching cock into you, “having to watch you all day everyday and never being able to express my desires.”
Again, your mind is too boggled to completely comprehend the seriousness of his words. Your cries of pleasure strain in your throat and your eyes burn with desire as Tech’s hands grip to your lower back, pushing you down to the ground as he hits you with wanting thrusts. 
“You’re fucking me so good Tech. Why haven’t we done this sooner?” 
Tech’s low chuckle does something to you as your words did to him, “Next time instead of fighting, we should just fuck. Or maybe, if you want me to submit,” Tech breathes through each thrust, seeing himself pull his cock out that’s now glistening with your juices, “be a whore and suck my cock. You obviously like it, don’t you?”
“Y-yes! Yes I love your cock! It feels so good in my pussy. Bet it’s even better between my lips.” You entice, looking over your shoulder at him which sparked something wild in him.
He pulls out despite being spurred on, leaving you almost begging for him. But this time you’re being pulled into his lap, tongues already dancing against each other the moment your lips meet as you seethe onto his thick length. 
“You may think my cock would be better between your lips, but I have never felt anything better than it being inside you.” He whispers to your lips, almost a glimmer of reality snapping back to you both as his words weren’t exactly driven by the intoxins - rather something else.
You’re smirking against his mouth and that’s when the desperation of needing to be fucked hard again, boils. As you begin to move your hips, frantically back and forth and rocking against his cock, his eyes shoot wide open and he’s whimpering tirelessly in front of you.
“That’s it, that’s my girl! What an edacious creature you are. Riding my cock like a good slut. Can’t get enough, can you?” He is holding onto your waist, fingers biting against the flesh once more as you tilt your head back, rhythm changing from back and forth to up and down. Your tits are bouncing in his face that he wasted no time in burying his face into the mounds, kissing and sucking against your skin.
 He had lost his sense of self completely now and was driving in pure instinct alone that when his tongue slid over one of your nipples, you gasped in approval. With your hands coming up and wrapping around his neck, your breathing is ragged and exacerbated whilst he uses you.
“You like it when I ride your cock, Tech? Huh? You love my pussy don’t you? Maker, could sit on your cock all day and never get enough.” Words of filth ooze out your mouth ease, making Tech react to your words with wanton moans.
Tech’s lips glaze over your beasts, leaving marks of today's antics as a reminder all the while claiming you. “Don’t stop darling, don’t you dare stop until you have milked every last drop of my seed until it seeps out of your little hole.”
You’re wet, warm, and velvet soft around Tech’s cock, taking him to the base with greed. He picks up a rhythm, matching yours as rocking his hips up and into you steadily as the blue shine of the cave reflects on your naked and sweating bodies. 
Minutes that felt like both hours and seconds passed, Tech pounding you at such a rapid pace that you were confident your pussy was getting warmer. Skin prickling with tingles, you knew you were about to cum. 
“Tech! Oh fuck, Tech I think I’m close to cumming! Make me cum! Please make me yours with your cum.” As you finished your thoughts, you cried out with joy, your entire body feeling like it was lighter than air while simultaneously being filled with every possible positive sensation it could possibly handle. Your mind lost all semblance of where you were, what had happened to you and what had gotten you to this point, instead focusing solely on Tech beneath you, still diligently pounding himself into you like he was sex starved. 
As your mind slowly returns to reality and your breathing catches up with your body's senses, you’re aware of what was happening. Especially as you felt him still pounding into you. Tech was whining, grunting and groaning as he maintained smashing into you rapidly, and you could tell by the way he breathed and his determination that he must be close to climax. 
Suddenly, he groans out your name. Shouting it so loud that it wouldn’t surprise you if the others had heard his cries from above. You could feel him driving himself as deep as he could go. A gasp emits from your lips as the burning that once was scorching your body from the water was replaced with the warm feeling of him filling you up with more cum than before.
Your lips part, words strangled in your throat as you felt his warm cum stuffing you while you guiltily enjoy the sensation. In fact, you could have sworn he was filling you to the point that you thought you may have had a second, smaller orgasm as he began his. Tech grunts with exertion as he finally finishes, his head flopping forward to rest against your shoulder, tiredly.
“Tech,” you whisper after what seemed like forever, hand gently resting on his shoulder to bring his head back to meet his gaze.
As the pair of you locked eyes, it clicked instantly what just happened. How one second you were arguing and then the next… Similar to you, his lips parts but this time he is speechless. 
A wave of new emotions flooded over him, none of which he understood or could process. Though the more you looked into his eyes, the more you understood that jittering feeling in your stomach. But now was probably not the time to look into it.
Eventually, Tech carefully removed you from his lap and you had to hold your breath about how lewd it was feeling his now softening length pulling out of you. 
He is silent when he collects his gear, slipping the damp clothing back on his body meanwhile you do the same. 
He glances over his shoulder at you and a wave of worry hits him when he notices grazing over your back. 
“Did I hurt you?”
Pausing, you quietly turn to look at him and see him gesture to your back. Awkwardly you glance down and audibly wince at the markings. But, from what you were aware, he wasn’t the cause of it. “No. It would’ve been from when I fell.”
“I see. When we head back to the ship I will gather supplies to help you clean it up.” He is fumbling around with his belongings, trying everything in his power to ignore what just happened but a pressing matter infiltrated his mind. “Speaking of supplies, we will need to head into the nearest village to locate any means of contraceptive-.”
“I’m on the pill, Tech.” You sigh, running a hand through your damp hair as you finish getting dressed before plopping yourself back on the sand, pulling your knees to your chest. 
Tech looks down from over his datapad at you, unsure how to approach this. But after taking a deep breath, he silently sits beside you, both of you gazing into the water that did unspeakable things to you both.
“I am unsure what to say to set your mind at ease.” He starts, trepidation on his words. “Though I can imagine it is hard for you to also summarize how you’re feeling about his moment.”
You close your eyes, hoping that burning behind your eyes would subside because although he had seen you, all of you, you weren’t ready to let him see your tears. “You don’t have to say anything,”
Tech looks in your direction, eyes drinking in your features. “I… I am sorry.”
“What for? You did what you had to to help me.” 
“I’m aware, but I am not apologising for that.” Your eyes open and a flurry of confusion crosses your face. 
You turn your head to look at him, shocked a little to see him already looking back. “Then, what are you sorry for?”
A sigh parts his lips. “I am sorry for all the times I have been hard on you. I am also apologising for what I said previously about you having to know ‘your place in this squad’.” Your mind is reeling and all you can do is let him continue. “It has come to my attention, for a long time now, that you are a valuable asset. My behavior towards you is unwarranted.”
“But,” you lick your lower lip idly, not quite processing what he was saying, “I thought you hated me?”
“Hate is a strong word. And as we discussed with Omega before, I do not hate you. Differing ideologies is all.” He breathes out shakily, feeling a minimal weight leave his shoulders. 
“So why are you hard on me?”
He rubs the back of his neck, a little unsure on how to answer. So often he had been judged for his blunt responses and now, he was finding it difficult to be honest. But, if the two of you were to never make it out of here - he may as well lay it all on the line.
“There is no denying that I struggle with emotions and how I reciprocate certain feelings from others. Truthfully, there is something about you that I find both irritating yet fascinating.”
He sneaks a glance at you as he speaks and he expected you to appear annoyed but instead, you appeared quite intrigued. Subtly, you nod your head to continue. “What I am trying to say is that I have a rooted attraction to you and feel as though pushing you away would help. But, it does not seem to be working.”
As you try to let his words sink in, you couldn’t help the feeling of your heart seeming to somewhat flutter at his admittance. All this time… he liked you? Truthfully your mind was still a little hazy to take it all in but there was now a burning question in the back of your mind. “Did you mean anything you said?”
“Indicating to what?” Tech asked gently though he had an inkling as to what you were referring to.
“You know…” you say shyly, cheeks emitting a certain heat.
He chews on the inside of his cheek, fully aware of what filth had poured from his lips only minutes ago. “From what I gather from aphrodisiacs is that it sends even the most sane people wild. All in all, a lot of truths are or have been told when under the influence.”
With a shaken breath, you close your eyes. “So it’s true that you’ve always wanted to fuck me? That’s what you said.”
“Yes. Yes, that is true.” 
Oddly enough, you’re okay with this information. Although you can’t say you have felt the same but in the back of your mind, you still remember the sight of him above you and remembered word for word everything he said. 
“I hope you do not think I have taken advantage of you - that would never, ever be the case. If I could have thought of a different solution then of course, I would have. There could be many anecdotes but-.”
“Tech.” You cut him off softly, clearly your silence was playing on his mind. You tilt your head to hom and offer him the softest smile he had ever been blessed to receive from you. “Thank you for saving me.” 
A gasp echoes through the cave as you gently lace your fingers through his, a gentle squeeze that speaks a thousand words. 
You weren’t too sure what was going to happen from now on. Would the others ever find you? What was to become of yours and Tech’s relationship? All you know is that if you were to fall into a cave filled with water with dangerous toxins with anybody - you’re somewhat glad it was Tech. 
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ultrone · 8 months
Text
settle down !
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thought abt this while listening to settle down by the 1975 ҂ fluffy angst; homophobia, physical abuse, mentions of jackie being a girlfailure as always. . .﹙1.6k wc﹚
"shhhh," nat whispered, urging you to be as quiet as possible. "let's go," she said in a hushed tone, leading you into her trailer while holding your hand. carefully sneaking past the living room where her mom lay passed out on the couch, you both headed towards her room.
once inside, she gently closed the door, and both of you placed your backpacks on the floor. as your backpack thudded softly on the ground, nat's hands seized the collar of your shirt, pulling you in for a long-awaited kiss. smiles adorned both your faces as your lips met, and you savoured the faint taste of tobacco on her tongue. as your lips intertwined, she gently guided you backward, causing both of you to tumble onto her bed.
as she lay on top of you, your fingers delicately traced her waist, pulling her closer. in response, she rested one hand against your cheek, softly caressing it as your tongues playfully danced together. after a few minutes, you both separated to catch your breath.
“fuck— i’ve been waiting all day to do that,” nat breathed out, her energy drained from the kissing. her lips looked plump, and a faint blush coloured her cheeks.
"you have?" you asked her, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on your face.
"yeah," she confirmed with an equally mischievous smile, sliding her hand from your cheek to your upper chest, gently caressing it with her thumb. "seeing you get angry at jackie during practice and yelling at her was hotter than you think," she teased. "you'd be surprised."
“oh, shut up,” you said, poking her side softly. "she literally scored a goal in our own net. i know it was practice, but it's like the third ti—"
your words were cut short by nat's lips, which found yours once again. but this time, it wasn't a hurried kiss filled with desire; instead, it was tender and longing. after a few seconds, you broke the kiss, rubbing your noses against each other before pulling back slightly to gaze into her eyes.
her eyes were a beautiful greenish-blue, barely visible due to her dilated pupils, which were locked onto yours in an intense gaze.
“i wish we didn’t have to hide,” you whispered out. "and i wish you’d leave travis and just be mine," you said as your eyebrows began to furrow.
"i am yours, you know it," she said. "we've talked about this before, y/n. you know i can't leave him or people will start to—"
"i don't give a damn about what people think, nat. i'm fucking tired," you shot back, averting your gaze from hers.
"look at me," she insisted, moving her hand from your chest to the side of your head, tangling her fingers in your hair as she softly caressed played with it. at her touch, you slowly met her gaze, your eyes a bit watery.
"when i said i'm leaving this town with you, i meant it," she reassured you. "we just have to wait a few more months until graduation," she reminded you. both of you just stared at each other in silence. you were at a loss for words, and she was uncertain about what else to say to ease your mind.
suddenly, she stood up from the bed and walked to her closet, passing her hands over her jackets until she found the one she was searching for. she slipped her hand inside its pocket and retrieved a little box. returning to her spot on the bed, she sat down in front of you. slowly, you lifted yourself from your lying down position, now seated facing her.
she seemed a bit nervous, something you noticed from the way she bit her lower lip and moved her hands more than usual.
“i meant to give you this for our anniversary, but i guess i’ll just do it now,” she said, handing you the little box. you grabbed it and scanned it with your eyes; it was a small velvet black box. nat stared at you intently, her lip still between her teeth while she played with her fingers.
quickly, you opened the box, eager to see what was inside. your heart fluttered against your chest as you saw a beautiful silver ring, with some text inscribed inside it. you squinted your eyes as you brought it closer to your face, trying to make out the date.
“june 21st, 1996,” she said, catching your attention, before redirecting your gaze to the ring. “i wanted to make sure you knew i’m not fucking with you, so i thought about giving you a promise ring,” she explained, “that’s the graduation date. the day i'll take you away from here, and we’ll start our new life away from everything and everyone—just the two of us,” she said.
you remained completely silent, just staring at the ring in awe, before sliding it onto your finger. however, your silence started to make her feel a bit anxious.
“i-i know it’s not the best, but it was the best one i could afford. but when i save more money, i’ll— whoa!” she cried out as you suddenly jumped into her arms, causing both of you to tumble to the ground. you held her face in your hands and showered her with little kisses all over her face, making her burst into laughter.
“it’s beautiful, nat. i love it," you said excitedly, staring into her eyes which sparkled with a joy that's only there when she's with you. "i love you,” you corrected yourself, your gaze shifting between her eyes.
“i love you more,” she whispered back, a smile forming on her face as she started to get closer to you.
“impossible,” you managed to whisper right before she closed the short space between you, sharing yet another passionate kiss.
this time, however, your kiss was abruptly interrupted as nat's door swung open aggressively, causing the two of you to quickly pull apart. it was her dad; the commotion of both of you falling onto the ground and nat’s laughter had caught his attention, prompting him to come check. his gaze fixated on you, still on top of nat, the unfinished kiss hanging in the air.
“what the–” his voice carried a tone of shock, disbelief, and growing anger. his fists clenched at his sides as he continued to stare at you, his breathing becoming audible.
the joy that had enveloped the room only moments ago had turned into a tense, fearful silence. he glared at you and nat, his eyes settling on the both of you in a way that sent shivers down your spine. without a word, he stormed forward, his steps heavy with anger, and before you could react, he reached out and seized your arm with an iron grip. pain shot through your wrist as his fingers dug into your skin.
"get away from my daughter, you filthy...!" he spat, his voice laced with anger and disgust.
your heart pounded in your chest, fear and anger coursing through you. nat, panic etched across her face, moved instinctively. she darted forward, her voice a sharp plea. "dad, stop!"
he didn't heed her, his free hand balling into a fist. with a guttural roar, he swung it towards you, the blow landing on your cheek with a sickening thud. pain seared through your face, a burst of stars clouding your vision. the force of the punch sent you stumbling backward, and tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.
“you think you can just come in here and corrupt my daughter?!” he bellowed, his voice shaking with rage. his eyes were wild, and his face was contorted with rage and revulsion.
nat's heart-wrenching cry cut through the air. “get the fuck away from her!”
she rushed forward, her hands gripping her father's arm with a strength born out of desperation. she pulled with all her might, trying to tear him away from you.
as nat struggled with her father, her voice trembled but remained firm, "go!" she screamed.
with those words ringing in your ears, you didn't need further urging. tears ran down your cheeks as you scrambled to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. you quickly snatched your backpack from the floor and bolted towards the exit. the trailer door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing in your ears.
the outside air hit your face like a cold, harsh slap, and you stumbled a few steps before finding your footing. as you sprinted away from the trailer, your breaths came in ragged gasps, and tears blurred your vision. the pain in your cheek throbbed, matching the ache in your heart.
amid the pounding in your chest, a distant sound pierced the air—a gunshot. yet, strangely, the sound didn't register in your mind. your thoughts had turned into a repetitive mantra, numbing your senses: "june 21st, june 21st, june 21st." the significance of that date echoed through your consciousness, each repetition adding weight to your determination to run as fast as you could.
you ran through the tears and the pain, the echoes of that gunshot fading into insignificance against the backdrop of your racing thoughts. it was as if your mind had created its own barrier, shielding you from the external chaos.
and so, you ran, driven by an unwavering hope, your footsteps falling in rhythm with your heartbeat. both carried the same sentiment: escape, freedom, and a life together. it was a sprint fueled by the hope that one day you would break free from all this pain and finally find peace—a hope that the endurance would be worth the wait.
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