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#(...who was acting more like Don Hard-to-Get)
l4long-winded · 3 days
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l4l presents... kinktober day two
today's act: dirty talk, starring kerry von erich
admonitions: fem!reader, use of petnames, fingering, college!kerry, dirty talk.
word count: 722
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“you gon’ be this tight f’me ‘round my cock, darlin’?” kerry whispers close to your ear, crooking his fingers further inside of your cunt. you whimper at the sensation, teetering your balance on one foot, your thigh gripped into his opposite hand, all per his insistence. your memory is foggy, no thanks to him, but you wound up this way because he said something along the lines of don’t worry, i gotcha, sweet thing and you fell enchanted by the hum of his accent. his left bicep flexes, but he has zero trouble holding your leg up for you whatsoever.
the more he delves his digits into you, the more that you realize how defenseless you are to his charm. it has to be that southern twang dripping from his voice, the same that enticed you here to this moment from a college party you attended by happenstance. you’re really glad your friends convinced you to go right now.
“course y’will,” he answers for you, a grin spreading along his mouth in reaction to all of those lustful sounds he’s ushering out of you. how you’re unable to respond logically. from your back and forth conversation at the party, he understood quickly how smart you were. it’s his favorite thing about this. fucking the brains out of that pretty head.
“you’re stranglin’ m’fingers and i can promise you right now, sweetheart, i’m a lot thicker than ‘em.”
to emphasize his point, he presses his hips into your inner thigh. his hardened length, covered by the stretch of denim, throbs against your skin. the bulk of his cockhead explains to you immediately how he’ll make you feel past full off the initial breach alone. such anticipation for it has you whining, rocking your pelvis into his hand for more. you need it inside of you now.
“uh-uh, watch that buckin’. ima’ get you there, trust me. gotta show me y’can handle this before i give ya cock.” kerry slips a third finger inside of you gradually. you seize up for a moment, your back arching into a bow.
“darlin’, if you’re this much of a mess, droolin’ all over m’hand, how’re you gonna behave when i’m slidin’ my dick in, huh? how am i ‘sposed to go slow when your pussy’s drawin’ me in this deep? so, so, so fuckin’ warm and wet for me, fuck…”
he strokes his fingers as he had previously been doing with only the two. like clockwork, you moan his name. the tips of his ears shade red. he’s grateful for his long hair covering them. as much as he holds confidence and pure bravado in every action he takes, his experience here is limited. college is breaking him in nicely. much like he’s breaking you in at this moment for the throbbing rod he has for you in his jeans. they feel cramped, his tip biting uncomfortably into his zipper. he locates something that almost makes you howl a high pitched thing. he’s a fast learner.
“please… please, not slow,” you manage. somehow through the scalding heat building up all thanks to him. who knew olympic athletes were this good with their hands. well, you do now. you’ll be more than happy to provide your friends with a raving review about your discovery. or… gate keep it. it depends if kerry’s dick game is as good as he claims his discus throw is.
“oh, you don’ wan’ slow? should’ve known.”
your eyes nearly roll back as he starts to increase the speed. he captures the correct pace he needs to get you there. and fuck, you’re right there.
“you deserve to be fucked hard, dontcha? i’ll give it to y’as hard as y’want. fuck you so hard that you’ll forget your major. what was it again, honey? can y’remind me?”
you have no fucking clue at this point. fuck that major. not a single thought other than his name, which you begin to chant, comes to mind as you cream around his fingers. that’s okay. he’ll tell it to you, because he remembers despite his words, after he sinks his cock into you and makes you forget it again. yeah. making the smart girls go stupid might just be his favorite thing about college. maybe making you like this is, worth keeping up with his studies for.
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abearinthewoods · 8 days
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This is what radical feminists do when you don't agree that 100% of men jerk off to rape.
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@radfemih8men Care to fucking explain yourself? (edit: she did, in the comments. long story, she confirmed it and thinks two wrongs make a right)
>mentions the darknet. 100% needs to have her hard drive check out.
Anyways, report this convo to the police, saying this kind of thing to a 13 year old is actually a sex offense PURELY ON ITS OWN in a lot of places.
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micrathene-w · 8 months
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Checklist Challenge 7
I feel like I should subtitle this one "The Hunt for Don!"
Since Mr Lothario didn't show up at any of the gyms (or anywhere else Alexa had visited), we had to venture to the Caliente household and hope for the best. Luckily -and unluckily - everyone was home. So she finally got the meet the infamous Don... but they couldn't just speed-run through to doing the deed, as Alexa wasn't about to incur the wrath of all three Caliente women.
For the moment, she settled for an introduction, then added him on Social Bunny and sent a couple of flirty messages there. After a little more fishing and Practicing Speech to get that Charisma up, she headed back to the Rattlesnake Juice Bar and called Don to see if he'd join her.
He agreed, showed up on the lot, walked up to the door - then immediately turned around and dipped out. 😒
Saturday, Alexa hit her goal for the Side Hustle simoleons.
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Since maxed Handiness comes into play later, these funds went to buying a woodworking table. Once she builds up a stock of little statues, a sales table can be the next purchase so she can sell those, her excess honey from the bee box, and collectibles.
(This is also about the point where her "Outdoorsy" Lifestyle started working against us. Even though the woodworking table is outside in the yard, apparently anything on her home lot counts as indoors; she kept getting Bored moodlets from "being stuck inside" even when there was rain falling on her little blonde pixel head.)
Saturday morning followed the usual routine: tend garden, eat grilled cheese, pop over to The Realm to see what tomes, crystals & ingredients are on offer for the day, then switch out between several different skills so she doesn't get too bored of any one.
In the evening just because The Watcher was feeling grudgy, she tried to spend time with Don again, this time heading to the bar in Evergreen Harbor. (Hey, Dumpster Woohoo is on the list too, and Don was being trash anyway, so...)
This time he at least walked inside the building - and even had a couple of interactions with Alexa. Then he walked back outside, coughed dramatically, and vanished again.
[I vented to @whyhellosims about this, then wondered if maybe Neighborhood Stories or MCCC had shoe-horned him into an evening job, and that's why he kept leaving. She suggested the "invite to hang out at current lot" might be buggy at the moment, and to try Travel With instead.]
SO to try to dodge both possible issues, Alexa skipped her first chance at the Flea Market, and at around lunchtime on Sunday invited Don to Travel With her to the Salty Paws Saloon after a quick switch of their regular garbage can for a dumpster.
Lo and behold, the bartender knew how to make Cupid Juice - a nice little boost to the mood I had not expected but certainly wouldn't complain about! And with that help, finally...
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The two-fer was accomplished! ...and now Alexa can dip out on Don, never to be seen again lol.
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I am still pissed off that i wrote something super cute about single mom reader and simon, and tumblr didn’t save it in my drafts
But more on the topic of nobleman simon riley with the young cute wife he got himself from the village to calm me down:
Simon never thought of himself as someone who would enjoy the little moments of life, when he looked at a sunset he would simply see that, a sunset, nothing more, but his wife, no no no she’s the polar opposite
When she picks fresh tomatoes from their garden and drops them into her skirt, she’s laughing out loud, her cheeks rosy pink from the summer heat and the pure joy that seems to run in her veins. She holds up the tomatoes to simon, yelling out his name to get his attention, and simon is just sitting on a chair reading a book trying to not think about all the dirt under his wife’s nails and how damp the garden walls smell during the humid summers, but his wife, oh no she’s running around grabbing tomatoes from the bushes, while she hums a melody quietly
“Mr riley!! Look at this one! It’s so red!”
“ ‘s jus’ a tomato, woman, please keep y’voice down”
And when her skirt is full of tomatoes she runs back to simon, dropping all of the red bulbs of freshness right onto his cleaned and steamed pants
“I got you all of these! Aren’t you happy??”
“ y’skirt is absolutely filthy, ‘s it so hard to jus’ act a bit more timid?”
She shakes her head, laughing at his comment, as she grabs one of the tomatoes from simon’s lap and rubs off the dirt on her dress, and takes a bite
“I think you should losen up a bit you know? Take that stick out of where the sun don’t shine”
She laughs at her own joke, simon on the other hand scrunches up his nose at the rude string of words that his so called wife just spat out at him
But you know
Even though he gets angry at his wife for rolling around in mud all day, for jumping up and down on the bed, for scaring the maid ten times a day, for chasing around the ducks and chickens, for swearing every time she drops something
He can’t help how his heart skips a beat when he hears her scream and laugh and shout and swear. And here’s the thing, simon is starting to like the chaos she seems to bring to everything
And before he knows it, he’s standing up from his chair in the garden, holding the girl’s soft hand, as he lets her walk him to the tomato bushes. And he actually kneels in the mud, cautiously grabbing a red tomato and lightly tugging on it, looking at his wife for reassurance,
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
And when she runs her fingers through his hair with those dirty hands, like she’s petting a lost puppy, simon absolutely loses it
And he laughs! Like an idiot who’s in love! He hates himself for it. But, you know, he can keep the anger for another time, right now he’ll just sit there and let his wife tug at his blonde hair while the warm sun shines down on his pale and freckled face. And he breaths, for what feels like the first time in years.
The maid runs out, holding her dress in her fists as she scolds simon
“Sir! Please for the love of god get up! I’ve just washed your clothes!”
“Y’know… i think ‘m good here, and i think… y’need to take tha’ stick out of where the sun don’ shine”
God he looks up at you with a proud look, like he’s done something so bad and he needs your approval for it, and when you nod your head with a smile he just melts.
Just saying, the poor maid does not like your behavior one bit, especially now that it’s rubbing off on simon.
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Post war/coma comic about Gai struggling with his recovery
Since tumblr hates long form comics, I have to split this into 2 bc its 36 images. This is the first part, part 2 i'll either do as a reblog or a separate post right after this, stay tuned! Links to support me in pinned post <3
tw: s*icidal thoughts, injury, a little blood
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Bisuke: Gai's Back!
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Gai: GRAAH!
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Kks: Im home Gai: Welcome back Kks: [wheels rolling] Hey,
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Kks: Ga-!? Gai: Im fine. The tile is cool on my face. Kks: Wanna go lay down in bed? Gai: I am so /sick/ of lying down. Kks: Ok. What do you want for supper?
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Gai: You're not going to comment? Kks: I already know what happened. You overdid it again. I should be able to keep up with chores, kakashi. Kks: You can. Just don' bull through it all in one go. Do you want to end up in the hospital again? Gai: Please don't. Kks: I know sitting still is hard for you, and "too much" is in your DNA, but you have to take this slow so you don't exacerbate your injuries, Gai. You went from hyper-aware to pretending your body limits dont exist. Gai: Like you haven't done the same.
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Gai: You've proved your point. Kks: It's not about that. And you've dragged me to bed and out of bed repeatedly when I needed it. You were burning alive from the inside. Tsunade told you your immune system is out of whack. You need to take it easy. /I/ know you're capable, but are you trying to prove to /yourself/ you are? Gai: You want me to admit my embarrassment? Kks: If something serioud happens, You'll be even more embarrassed then
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Gai: How could you possibly know how I FEEL?! How could you EVER KNOW HOW I FEEL?! Kks: I DON'T! But I've /been/ the one ouking and sobbing on your bathroom floor because I couldn't take living anymore! And I don't want that for YOU!
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Kks: I'm sorry, Gai. Gai: I'm sorry
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Kks: I can't stand knowing you're in pain, and I can't get you help. If there was a way, I'd do anything. Gai: You do so much to help me already.... And I yelled at you Kks: I've screamed at you so much, that was pretty tame. I wish I was like you with things like this. Not great with what to say...... But I can listen.
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Gai: I hate feeling so weak. I'm tired all the time, in constant pain, I can't even walk-..... I can tell tenten and the boys worry despite my efforts to appear positive. Kks: They're just not sure how to react. They know you hate being babied, but don't want to push you into hurting yourself. You hate being told you can't do something. They love you. You get stronger everyday, everyone is cheering you on.
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Gai: I know it's irrational, but... I feel like you gave up the Hokage position to take care of me. Kks: Haa!? I'm grateful if anything. I'd be retired too if I could. That'd be amazing. I'm dreading just helping Tsunade but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine. We're still equals, rivals, friends, partners
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Gai: Even if I can't- Kks: /Always/ wil be, dickhead. Gai: You worry about me hurting myself? Kks: I know you think about it
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Kks: We're the same in that regard Gai: I would never act on this, please believe me, these thoughts are rare........... Kks: It's ok, Gai. Gai: Sometimes I think i should have just died. I feel so out of place on the streets I used to feel so at home at. I never asked to live. I didn't plan to. I just don't know how to-...
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Kks: I understand that. Though, dying didn't feel any better. Gai: I know I didn't fully pass like you did. I didn't see papa. Just for a moment, I wish I could have seen him.
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Kks: As much as I'm sure he wants to see you again, It's too soon. Dai'd slap the shit out of you for wanting to waste your youth just to see him. Gai: [chuckle] probably. Kks: I have those thoughts less and less now, but they're still there. "why am I the one who survives?" "Burden" "Gai will come to his senses eventually"
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Gai: FALSE!! None of my grief is with you! I love living here with you! My love for you only burns hotter each day! You're so lovely inside and out! Kks: Maa What did I do to deserve such praise from teh mouth of the hottest man in Konoha?? Gai: YOU STILL THINK I'M HOT?! Kks: YOU-! [CACKLE]
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Kks: Your bad taste is the only reason I had a chance before someone snatched you up. Gai: The worst. Kks: Thought we'd irritate eachother, but it's been pretty smooth. Even though you still get played by the dogs. Gai: You really wanna throw those stones?
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Gai: They play you just as easily. don't lie. Kks: My point is, whatever you need from me, you have it. No questions asked. Even if you yell and scream, i can take it. You held me together when I was unraveling, and I'll never forget it. Didn't trust anyone else to see me like that. Broken
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Gai: I never saw you as that. Kks: I'll never see you as that
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kennedybaby · 8 months
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HAUNTING ~ JASON P. TODD. 18+
Summary: Maybe blocking Jason isn't such a great idea.
Contents: dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), fingering in the alleyway, fucking in the alleyway hence risky sex slash teeny tiny bit of exhibitionism, rough sex, size difference, unhealthy relationship.
Pairing: Jason P. Todd X Female! Reader.
Word count: 2.6k
Author note: an anon implied that they want a part two of the drabble i made abt ex! jason. it is here... and it's valentine's day special. sorry for dropping bangers and leaving for another 2 months. will do it again. enjoy!
🖥️ MAIN MENU. PART ONE.
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I know if I’m haunting you,
you must be haunting me.
You told yourself this was going to be the last time. The morning after Jason had left, you were already blocking his number and changing the lock to your front door the next day. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity that helps you realized that maybe… maybe this things going on between you and him wasn’t exactly healthy. Maybe it’s a good idea to ignore the calls you’ve been getting from ‘unknown’ caller knowing full well it was him.
You think it’s a little cute when he went as far as to text you from Dick’s number.
He thinks you’re a brat.
Besides, who cares if what him and you had going on wasn’t healthy? You didn’t have to blocked him.
Whatever, what’s done is done. “He’s going to stop reaching out eventually.” you told yourself only to see him leaning against his bike, waiting for you in one of the alleyway you always passes after your night shift a week after blocking him. The red helmet slightly glints in the dark when the streetlight hits, “come here,” he murmurs, head tilts slightly to the side. There’s a battered bouquet of red roses in his hand, the veins on his forearm pokes out from how tight he gripped the bouquet to the point that the stems are crushed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, princess. Come get your flowers.” Jason adds, his other hand reached up to removed his helmet as he placed it on the seat of his bike.
”I don’t want to.” A small huff left your lips.
”Just do it, goddamnit [Y/N].”
Old habits die hard.
Your shoulders drops in defeat as you dragged your feet to him, you can’t help it. As much as you want to keep up the ‘I’ve-totally-moved-on’ acts, you just can’t. So here you are, not even five minutes in and Jason already had his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips naturally finding their way to yours the second you had your head slightly tilts up. “Blocked my number, huh? What, you think you’re so mature, huh?” He snorts, letting the bouquet falls from his hand to hold you tighter in his arms. “I didn’t block you…” You whined, standing on your tip toes to keep him quiet by smothering his lips with small pecks.
”Yeah right, that’s totally believable.” He scoffed in between the pecks you're giving him, his head tilts down to make it easier for you to reached in for more kisses. “Because my texts and calls totally got thru.” You can practically taste the sarcasm dripping from the way he talks to you. “I might have accidentally blocked you.” You pulled back slightly to watch as his face gradually sours. He stared back at you with an annoyed look, his brows furrowed before a low groan leaves his lips. “Face the wall.” He groaned, his fingers running thru his black locks before you reluctantly turn to face the wall, “We’re doing it right here?” You stuttered as you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your eyes quickly widened when he pressed himself against you. His bulge slightly rubs against your ass, his hands digs into your hips to keep you still. “Damn right we are.” He says, his breathing slightly staggered as he moves his hips slightly to get more friction against his clothed cock.
You leaned the back of your head, fingers latching onto his forearms as a support. “You’re so annoying, you know that, right?” He speak with a gruff, there’s creases on his forehead as Jason looked back at him. “How many times are you going to do this, huh? Acting like I don’t exist and blocking my number the second we had sex. I’m gettin’ real sick of it, [Y/N].” His hand reached up to grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him  as he grinds himself against the curves of your ass. “Fucking brat.” He adds, his thumb gently brushing over your lips. “My fucking brat.”
“I don’t know,” you breathes, your lips instinctively parting as Jason slips his thumb into your mouth. “…until you’re bored of me?.” You muffled out your words, eyes slowly turning cloudy from the having his cock brushing up against you. He scoffed at your reasoning, rolling his eyes before he pressed his thumb down your tongue.
”As if.” He mumbled, leaning down slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’re gonna block me again after this?” His eyes flickered to looked back at you. You stared at him for a solid minute with only the sound of his jeans and your skirt rubbing together can be heard before he removed his thumb off your tongue to let you speak. “No?” You stammers, mentally cursing yourself when he smirked at your answer. “Good girl.” He replied, his hand falls to the hem of your skirt.
”I missed you,” A soft whine left his lips as his fingers desperately reached down to rub your clit. Jason leaned against you to leave kisses on your neck and up to your jaw as his fingers pushes your panties aside. “You’re so wet already, baby.” He mutters, massaging the bundle of nerves in a circular motion. He slowly swipes his fingers between your folds as you leave trails of your wetness on his fingers. “Looks like this pretty little thing misses me too.” He chuckled when you whimpers at the feeling of his fingers being pushed inside of you. “I missed you too…” You whined, eyes shut tight as he pumps his digits deeper into your sopping cunt. The wetness between your legs sticks to your thighs and clings to his fingers, his teeth hungrily leaving marks on your neck. “Sorry for blocking you.” Your body shuddered in sheer bliss when his fingers curls with his calloused palm constantly brushing against your clit.
”Yeah? You’re sorry?” He asked, his voice growing breathy while his other hand clumsily undo his belt and zipper. A small frustrated groan leaves his throat before he pulls his fingers out of you causing you to pout and whine. “Oh, come on. Give me a second.” He laughed, turning you around but this time facing his bike. He moves your leg up on the seat before he kneel down behind you. “Fuck… Look at that.” He whispers, his warm breath fanned against your pussy before he desperately buried his face in between your thighs. “Jason!” You squeaked, toes curling upon feeling his tongue lapping on your clit with his fingers tightly gripping your thighs. His thick fingers leaving marks on your skin as you squirmed on his bike, causing him to land a spank on your cheek.
You whined. “What’s that for?” You looked back at him only to be met with his dazed eyes and his mouth still latching onto your pussy, drinking every liquid that drips out of you. For once in the span of an hour filled with nothing but his sarcasm, he was quiet. Except for the occasional groans and moans every time you pushes deeper against his nose. Your nails digs into the cushion of his seat as you whimpers when he slide his tongue into your entrance, prodding in and out of your entrance before he finally pulled back for some air.
”Jeez, Jay…” He looked up at you when you pouted, his cheeks and chin were coated with your juices before his eyes cast down to the way you wiggled your hips at him. “…keep going.” You bat your lashes at him, the excitement in your stomach stirs as he tugs his pants and boxer just low enough for his cock to springs out of the tight confinement before gently slapping against his stomach. His thumb keeping your panties aside and your entrance exposed to him, "Calm down, princess." He sighs before his teeth digs into his lower lip, it's been a hard week since he felt anything close to this. Sure, he settled on his fist for the first two days before he completely stopped when he realised that fucking his fist to the thought of you wasn't as good as fucking you.
He slowly moves his hips, managing to bury the tip of his cock inside of you as he lets out a choked moan. "Still feels good as ever." He moaned, head tilted back with his eyes closed. His cock twitches in you when small whines falls past your lips, sending vibrations down to him as the muscles tightening around his length. "Christ, you're still not used to me?" His breath were shaky before he looked down to you, admiring at the clear size difference between the two of you as you tried your best to take every inch of him.
"S'not my fault," You huffed, your legs slightly trembles underneath him. Jason shifts your position slightly, holding you by the waist with one hand while his other hand makes their way under your shirt to fondled with your tits. "Never said it was." He replied, pushing his cock deeper inside of you until he’s halfway in when he stopped, noticing the way you tensed up. “It’s okay, baby. Just a few more inches and the hard part’s over.” Your body shuddered from his whispers, his breath tickling the back of your neck before you quickly nods at his words. His hand reached to wiped the sweats off your forehead before his hips slowly moves, “Mhm, just like that… Just relax.” Jason coos, planting small kisses on your temples.
A whine break out of your sealed lips when he completely buried himself inside of you, filling every crevices off your pussy with his twitching cock. The curve of his length itches just the sweet spot to make you see stars, “Jason…” The sound of you calling his name temporarily distracts him from the way your pussy clamped him down. His fingers had its deadly grips on your hips as you stand on your tip toes just to slightly fuck yourself on his cock, “Yeah?” He croaked, replying back to you with a deeper tone as he glanced down to the way your ass softly slaps against his pelvis, “You’re adjusting?” He asked before you let a small ‘mhm’ left your lips.
“You’re just fucking yourself on me.”
“No, I’m not.” You lied with a crooked grin. Jason rolled his eyes.
“Just look at the damn wall. You’re gonna break that dainty little neck if you keep looking back at me like that.” He mumbled, moving his hips into you in a more quicker pace. “Hold onto my helmet. Drop it and I’m stopping.” He grabbed a fistful off your ass while you quickly grabbed the red helmet, hugging it to your chest. The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the dark alleyway, your shared moans and groans reverberates and bounces off the brick walls. He moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers pressing down on your clit as he moves it in sloppy, circular motion. His other hand holding on the handle of his bike, “Lift your ass up, baby.” He grunted, brow furrowing as his hips moves back and forth, every thrust felt like he’s sending you over the edge.
”I’m trying!” You said in a hushed tone, too breathless. You weren’t sure if your knees can take anymore before they buckled to the dirty ground. In an act of desperation, Jason lifts you up with his forearm under your stomach causing your legs to dangled off the ground before he continue shoving his fat cock into your dripping pussy. You let out a small gasp, he’s really doing it-- he’s quite literally carrying you like a doll. “Can’t even do the simplest thing.” He huffed, eyes closed with his the tip of his nose tickling the crook of your neck as your fingers clings to his helmet, not wanting to dropped it lest he stopped just for the sake of making you miserable.
Your eyes lazily gazes at the other end of the alleyway where anyone that decides to passed the alleyway can noticed the both of you. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought, minimizing your moans into small squeaks and whines. You glanced at Jason, hoping he doesn’t notice only for him to sharply thrust into you to elicit a loud moan out of you, green eyes narrowing down at you. “Don’t be quiet,” He whispered, his other hand reached to traced the curve of your spine with his thumb lightly. “Let me hear you.” He dragged his voice to sound slightly whiny just to tease you even further.
You hated how much you expected this from the get go.
Blocking him was never an option, Jason has a knack when it comes to keeping you tied to him. One command from him and you’d rushed back into his arms like a puppy, hopelessly lingering around him. “Feels so good…” You whispered back, lashes thick with salty tears as wanton moans spills out of your swollen lips. You hated the fact that the both of you knows this. You’re not even sure if the both of you were even exes at some point. The feeling of the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot sends you shivering despite being half dressed, it doesn’t help how godly his cock is. The delicious curve that sends you whining for more, the noticeable vein on the side of his length, the way his balls slaps against your clit, the thickness of it-- all of it drives you insane, fills your body with nothing but carnal desires.
“Outside? Inside?” He asked in between his groans, strands of his black locks sticks to his forehead as his jaw clenches. You know it’s near when his movement grow sloppy and inconsistent, his eyes darkened with sheer lust and the muscles on his bicep flexes. “Fuck, don’t just gimme puppy eyes, princess. Answer me.” He said with gritted teeth, purposely moving his hips rougher into you as you cried out of pleasure. “Out, out, out…” Your babbles almost went incoherent when you choked on your own moans while you blinks away the tears that welled at the corned of your eyes. He nods his head, burying his face into your shoulder as his arm around your waist tightens.
”Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He curses, his head spinning and leaving him dizzy. Jason wanted to stay inside of you badly, the warmth of your cunt wrapping snugly around him screams nothing but heaven. And the fact that you’re already cumming on his cock before he even gets to pulled out? God, you’re just torturing him at this point. He pulled out of you right before he finishes, wet and sticky seeds shooting on your back and staining your skirt as he winces when the cold air hits his cock. “Oh my god.” His chuckle were airy, skin were slightly flushed from the lovemaking. Jason cradled you in his arms, turning you around to face him before placing you on top of his bike.
”You okay?” He asked, softly massaging your inner thighs. His forehead presses against yours, his gaze softened at the sight of you looking back at him with tired eyes. “Yep.” Your answer were short as you steadied your breathing, your arms wrapped around his neck to pulled him closer while Jason fixes your clothes.
”Wanna go rest at my place?”
The both of you stared at each other for a solid minute. You give him a small nod.
“That’s my girl.”
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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR MODIFY ANY OF MY WORKS. ©️ KENNEDYBABY.
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classypauli · 6 months
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𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹’𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻
Part 2
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader
Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.
Word count: 3k
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It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.
Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-
God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.
„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.
„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.
„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.
„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.
But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.
She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.
„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.
„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.
„Oh! And on top of that-“
„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.
„-he even-„
„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.
„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.
„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“
Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...
„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.
Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.
She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.
„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.
„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.
The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.
„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“
Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-
Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.
Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.
She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.
„Mindy. She saw me.“
„And now she´s making her way here.“
„No, that can´t be real.“
„Oh yes, it is.“
„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.
„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.
„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.
„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.
What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!
„Uhm... I-“
„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.
Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“
„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.
The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.
Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.
You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.
Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.
„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“
Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.
„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.
„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.
Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.
You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.
Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.
On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.
„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.
Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“
„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.
Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“
„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.
„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.
„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.
„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“
Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.
„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.
„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.
 You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.
As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.
„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.
You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“
„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.
„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.
„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“
The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.
„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.
„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“
The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.
Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.
„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.
„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.
„Thanks for bringing her here.“
„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.
The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.
Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.
Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better
What? How did you get her number? It was really you?
„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.
„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“
Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...
„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.
You saw that fucking wallpaper.
Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍
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bratzkoo · 18 days
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still the one | joshua hong
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Author: bratzkoo Pairing: exes! joshua x reader Genre: fluff, semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 4.8k~ Warnings/note: i just want joshua to do something very loser of him just to get his ex back.
summary: 5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
You didn’t really see it coming.
The autumn breeze carried a hint of crisp possibility as you walked through the park, fallen leaves crunching satisfyingly beneath your feet. Life was good – you had a successful career that challenged and fulfilled you, a cozy apartment in the heart of the city, and a circle of friends who filled your days with laughter and your nights with adventure.
As you strolled along the winding path, you couldn't help but smile at the scenes around you. Couples walked hand in hand, their heads bent close in conversation. Families spread out on checkered blankets, enjoying impromptu picnics in the fading warmth of the season. A group of friends tossed a frisbee, their shouts and laughter carrying on the wind.
You paused for a moment, tilting your face up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Contentment washed over you, a feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely Ranee confirming plans for your weekly wine and movie night. Life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, one that you'd worked hard to create and maintain.
Little did you know that this carefully constructed peace was about to be shaken to its core. As you reached for your phone, you were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing, of the persistent force that was about to re-enter your life and turn everything upside down.
Somewhere across the city, Joshua Hong was steeling his nerves, his finger hovering over the 'Create Account' button on Instagram. He'd spent weeks crafting the perfect username, carefully selecting photos, and writing and rewriting his bio. Now, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he was about to take the first step in his plan to win you back.
But for now, in this moment, you were simply enjoying the park, the autumn day, and the life you'd built for yourself. The future, with all its unexpected twists and turns, could wait.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your reverie. A notification from Instagram – a new follow request. Your breath caught as you read the username: J_Hong_1996. It couldn't be... could it?
With trembling fingers, you tapped on the profile. The photos were sparse, but unmistakable. Joshua, looking older but still achingly familiar, in various locations around the city. Your city. He was back.
For a moment, you considered hitting the 'Decline' button, shutting this unexpected door before it could fully open. But curiosity – or perhaps something deeper – made you hesitate. Before you could overthink it, you hit 'Accept', telling yourself it was just to see what he was up to.
Within minutes, your phone buzzed again. A direct message.
"(Y/N), I know it's been a long time, but I'm back in town. Can we talk?"
You stared at the message, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Anger at his presumption, hurt that still lingered after all these years, and underneath it all, a traitorous flicker of... what? Hope? Longing? You shook your head, banishing the thought.
Days passed, and more messages followed, each one a little more desperate than the last.
"I understand if you're angry. I just want a chance to explain."
"I've missed you every day for the past five years. Please, just five minutes of your time."
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to earn it."
You continued to ignore them, hoping he'd take the hint. But Joshua, it seemed, was nothing if not persistent.
A week after the first Instagram request, your brother Seungkwan called. His voice was suspiciously casual as he said, "Hey, sis! Just finalizing plans for my birthday party next weekend. You're coming, right?"
"Of course," you replied, a smile in your voice despite your turbulent thoughts. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Great!" Seungkwan said, a little too enthusiastically. There was a pause, and then, "Oh, and, uh, just so you know... Joshua might be there. He reached out, said he was back in town and wanted to reconnect with old friends. I hope that's okay?"
Your grip tightened on the phone, knuckles turning white. "Seungkwan," you said, your voice dangerously calm, "did he put you up to this?"
Your brother's guilty silence was all the answer you needed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It's fine. It's your party. Invite whoever you want."
As you ended the call, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being maneuvered into a confrontation you weren't sure you were ready for.
The night of Seungkwan's party arrived, crisp and clear. You'd spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing your outfit – a sleek black dress that hugged your curves, paired with your favorite heels. You told yourself it was for your own confidence, not for any other reason.
The moment you stepped into the crowded apartment, you felt his presence. It was like a sixth sense, your body attuned to his proximity even after all these years. You scanned the room, your heart racing, but there was no sign of him.
For the first hour, you managed to avoid him, sticking close to your friends and keeping your eyes averted from the door. But as you stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, you heard his voice behind you.
"(Y/N)."
You turned slowly, steeling yourself. And there he was. Joshua. Five years older, a touch of silver at his temples, but still devastatingly handsome. His eyes, those warm brown eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now held a mixture of hope and trepidation.
"Hello, Joshua," you said, proud of how steady your voice sounded.
He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to back away. "Thank you for not running away," he said softly. "I wasn't sure you'd even talk to me."
"I'm here for Seungkwan," you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary. "This isn't about you."
Joshua nodded, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "I know. But I'm hoping... maybe we could talk? Just for a few minutes?"
You sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "What is there to talk about, Joshua? It's been five years. We've both moved on."
"Have we?" he asked, moving to stand beside you at the railing. "Because I haven't. Not really."
You turned to face him, anger bubbling up inside you. "And whose fault is that? You're the one who left, remember? You don't get to come back after five years and act like nothing's changed."
"I know," Joshua said, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I've regretted leaving every day for the past five years. You're all I think about, (Y/N). I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away from us, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make it right."
You shook your head, stepping away from him. "It's too late for that, Joshua. We can't go back."
As you walked away, leaving him alone on the balcony, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. You were right.
For weeks after the party, Joshua's attempts to reach you intensified. It started with flowers delivered to your office – a stunning bouquet of your favorite blooms. Your coworkers cooed and speculated, but you simply moved them to the break room, ignoring the card that bore his familiar handwriting.
Next came the letters. Handwritten pages that showed up in your mailbox, pouring out his heart, explaining his actions, and begging for another chance. You told yourself you were going to throw them away unread, but each night found you poring over his words, tears staining the pages.
Then there was the singing telegram – a mortifying experience that left your entire office buzzing with gossip. As the poor college student in a ridiculous costume belted out a heartfelt rendition of "your song," you wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
Each gesture chipped away at your resolve, even as you tried to maintain your distance. You found yourself lying awake at night, memories of your time together playing on an endless loop. The good times – lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, surprise picnics in the park, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world. But also the bad – the fights that grew more frequent towards the end, the distance that had grown between you, the day he'd walked out with nothing but a suitcase and a broken promise.
Your friends were divided on the issue. Ranee, ever the romantic, thought you should hear him out. "People change, (Y/N)," she'd say over wine and takeout. "Maybe he really has grown up. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least listen?"
But Jihoon, who'd seen you through the worst of the breakup, was adamantly against it. "He had his chance," he'd argue, eyes flashing with protective anger. "He doesn't get to waltz back in and disrupt your life just because he's decided he made a mistake."
You appreciated their concern, but in the end, you knew the decision had to be yours. And despite your best efforts to stay strong, to remember the pain he'd caused, you could feel your resolve weakening.
Then came the night that changed everything.
You were settling in for a quiet evening at home, a glass of wine in hand and your favorite movie queued up, when a commotion outside your apartment door caught your attention. Frowning, you muted the TV and approached cautiously, peering through the peephole.
Your heart nearly stopped at what you saw.
Joshua was on his knees in the hallway, a bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at your door, unaware that you were watching. His voice, muffled but clear, carried through the wood.
"(Y/N), please. I know you're in there. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me a chance."
You pressed your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you.
"I was stupid for letting you go, and I've spent every day since then regretting it. You're still the one for me, (Y/N). You've always been the one. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please, just open the door."
Your hand hovered over the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it. Five years of hurt, of carefully rebuilding your life, warred against the undeniable pull you still felt towards him.
"I'm not giving up," Joshua continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll come back every day until you're ready to talk to me. Because I know, deep down, that we're meant to be together. Please, (Y/N). Just give me one more chance."
You leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Memories flooded your mind – the day you met, your first kiss, the night he told you he loved you. But also the fights, the growing distance, the day he'd walked out. You'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life without him. Could you really risk opening that door again?
As if he could sense your indecision, Joshua's pleas grew more urgent. "I know I hurt you. I know I left you alone, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But being back here, being close to you again... it's made me realize that you're still the one for me. You always have been."
You found yourself standing, drawn to his voice like a magnet. Your hand reached for the doorknob of its own accord.
"I've tried to start again, to find somebody else," Joshua continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But I can't get you out of my head. The memories, the things we said to each other... they're always there. I can't move on, (Y/N). Not without knowing I did everything I could to make things right between us."
With a shaky breath, you turned the knob. As you slowly opened the door, Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He scrambled to his feet, the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.
"You have five minutes," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After that, if I tell you to leave, you go. And you don't come back. Understood?"
Joshua nodded eagerly, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, (Y/N). That's all I'm asking for. A chance to explain, to show you how much you mean to me."
You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. As he passed, his familiar scent – a mix of cologne and something uniquely him – enveloped you, bringing with it a rush of memories. You closed the door and turned to face him, arms crossed protectively over your chest.
"Talk," you said simply.
Joshua took a deep breath, setting the flowers on a nearby table. "First, I want to say how sorry I am. Not just for leaving, but for how I handled everything leading up to it. I was young and stupid and scared of the intensity of what I felt for you. Instead of talking to you about my fears, I pushed you away. I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do, that we'd both be better off. But I was wrong. So incredibly wrong."
You remained silent, watching him carefully. Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you remembered all too well.
"These past five years have been... empty," he continued. "I threw myself into my work, traveled, tried to convince myself I was living this great, exciting life. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home. Because home was always with you, (Y/N)."
"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"
Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "Because I finally realized what an idiot I'd been. Because the thought of going another day without you in my life was unbearable. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone a second chance. But I had to try. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you how I feel."
You turned away, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "And how do you feel, Joshua?"
You heard him step closer, though he didn't touch you. "I love you, (Y/N). I never stopped loving you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. Every good thing that happens, I want to share with you. Every bad day, I wish you were there to make it better. You're it for me. You're the one."
Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously. "Love isn't always enough, Joshua. You proved that when you walked out five years ago."
"I know," he said softly. "But I've changed. I've grown up. I know now that love isn't just a feeling – it's a choice. And I choose you, (Y/N). I'll choose you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me."
You turned to face him, taking in the earnest expression on his face, the love and hope shining in his eyes. "And what if I say no? What if I tell you to leave and never come back?"
Pain flashed across Joshua's features, but he stood his ground. "Then I'll respect your decision. It'll break my heart, but I'll go. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn't include me."
His words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility. You found yourself at a crossroads, the path forward unclear. On one side lay the safety of the life you'd built without him – predictable, stable, but tinged with a loneliness you'd never quite been able to shake. On the other, the unknown – the risk of heartbreak, but also the potential for a love deeper and stronger than before.
"I can't..." you started, your voice breaking. You took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't just forget everything that happened, Joshua. The pain, the years of trying to move on... it's not that simple."
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking for a chance to make new memories, better ones. To show you every day how much you mean to me, how sorry I am for the pain I caused."
You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. When you opened them again, Joshua was still there, waiting patiently, hope etched in every line of his face.
"I can't promise you anything," you said finally. "I don't know if I can trust you again, or if I even want to try. But..." you paused, hardly believing the words about to leave your mouth, "I'm willing to listen. To take things slowly and see where they lead."
The smile that lit up Joshua's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's more than I could have hoped for," he said softly. "Thank you, (Y/N). I promise you won't regret this."
As he turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at you with eyes full of renewed determination, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whether it was the beginning of a new chapter or the final closing of an old one remained to be seen. But one thing was certain – Joshua's persistence had finally broken through your defenses, and now, for better or worse, you were embarking on a journey neither of you could have anticipated.
The door closed behind him, and you sank onto your couch, emotions swirling within you. You picked up your phone, needing to talk to someone who could offer an outside perspective. Ranee answered on the second ring.
"Hey, what's up?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
"I think I'm in trouble," you said, your voice shaky. "Joshua... he was just here. On his knees in the in the hallway," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Begging me to give him another chance."
Ranee gasped. "Oh my god, (Y/N). What did you do?"
You closed your eyes, still hardly believing it yourself. "I... I let him in. We talked."
"And?" Ranee pressed, her voice a mixture of concern and excitement.
"And... I told him I'd be willing to listen. To take things slowly." You let out a shaky breath. "Ranee, what am I doing? Am I crazy for even considering this?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Ranee spoke again, her voice was gentle. "You're not crazy, (Y/N). You're human. And whether you want to admit it or not, Joshua was a huge part of your life. It's natural to have conflicting feelings."
"But what if I'm making a huge mistake?" you asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since Joshua left. "What if he hurts me again?"
"That's always a risk in any relationship," Ranee pointed out. "But let me ask you this – do you think you'd regret it more if you gave him a chance and it didn't work out, or if you turned him away without ever knowing what could have been?"
Her question gave you pause. You thought about the past five years, about the life you'd built for yourself. It was a good life, comfortable and safe. But there had always been something missing, a void you'd never quite been able to fill.
"I don't know," you admitted. "I just... I'm scared, Ranee. I worked so hard to move on, to be okay without him. What if letting him back in undoes all of that?"
"Then you'll pick yourself up and move on again," Ranee said firmly. "But this time, you'll do it knowing you gave it your all. No what-ifs, no regrets."
After hanging up with Ranee, you sat in the quiet of your apartment, mulling over her words. Your eyes fell on the bouquet Joshua had brought, still sitting on the table where he'd left it. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. He'd remembered your favorite flowers after all these years.
Your phone buzzed with a text:
From Joshua: "Thank you again for giving me a chance to explain. I meant every word I said tonight. I'll wait as long as it takes. You're still the one, (Y/N). Always."
You stared at the message, your heart racing. Slowly, you typed out a reply:
To Joshua: "I meant what I said too. Slow. I need time to process all of this."
His response came almost immediately:
From Joshua: "Of course. We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm just grateful for the opportunity. Sleep well, (Y/N)."
As you got ready for bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Part of you was terrified of the vulnerability that came with opening your heart again. But another part, a part that had been dormant for far too long, felt a flicker of excitement at the possibility of reconnecting with Joshua.
The next few weeks were a delicate dance of tentative steps forward and cautious retreats. True to his word, Joshua respected your need for space, never pushing for more than you were ready to give. Your interactions started small – text messages exchanged throughout the day, brief phone calls that gradually grew longer.
Then came the coffee dates. The first one was awkward, both of you unsure of how to act around each other after so much time apart. But as the weeks went by, you found yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm. You talked about your lives over the past five years – your career advancements, his travels, the lessons you'd both learned.
One afternoon, as you sat across from Joshua in your favorite café, he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.
"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Nothing, I just... I can't believe I'm here with you. There were so many times over the past five years when I thought I'd lost this chance forever."
You felt a familiar pang in your chest – a mixture of old hurt and new hope. "Joshua..."
"I know," he said quickly. "I know we're taking things slow. And I respect that. I just want you to know how grateful I am for every moment I get to spend with you."
His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You found yourself reaching across the table, your hand covering his. It was the first time you'd initiated physical contact since he'd come back into your life, and you felt him tense in surprise before relaxing into your touch.
"I'm grateful too," you admitted softly. "I won't lie – there's still a part of me that's scared. That's waiting for the other shoe to drop. But... I'm glad we're doing this. Whatever 'this' is."
Joshua turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours. "It's whatever you want it to be, (Y/N). I'm here for as long as you'll have me."
As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself slowly letting your guard down. The walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble, brick by brick. Joshua was patient, attentive, and consistently present in a way he hadn't been towards the end of your relationship five years ago.
But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of old hurts resurfacing. Arguments where past grievances bubbled up, threatening to derail the progress you'd made. But unlike before, you both made a conscious effort to communicate, to work through your issues rather than letting them fester.
It was during one of these conversations, late one night as you walked through the park where you'd first met, that Joshua stopped suddenly, turning to face you.
"(Y/N)," he said, his voice serious. "I need you to know something."
You felt your heart rate quicken, a mix of anticipation and anxiety coursing through you. "What is it?"
Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know we've been taking things slow, and I respect that. But I want to be clear about where I stand. I love you. I'm in love with you. And if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day."
You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the emotion behind them. For a moment, you were transported back in time – to the day he'd first told you he loved you, to all the dreams and plans you'd made together. But this time, instead of fear or doubt, you felt a sense of certainty wash over you.
"Joshua," you said softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you too. I think... I think I always have, even when I was trying so hard not to."
The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any you'd ever seen. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You took a deep breath, your heart full of hope and possibility. "Forward," you said simply. "Together."
As Joshua's lips met yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges ahead, old wounds to heal, and new obstacles to overcome. But for the first time in five years, you felt truly, completely whole.
You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through you – love, frustration, happiness, and a touch of amused exasperation. Joshua's persistence had not only won him a second chance but had also reignited a love that had never truly died. As you stood there, hand in hand in the park where your story began, the future stretching out before you, a realization hit you.
"DAMN YOU, JOSHUA HONG!" you exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise.
His eyes widened, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his face. "What? What's wrong?"
But before he could say anything else, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close again. "Damn you and your persistence," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips despite your words. "Making me fall in love with you all over again."
Relief and joy flooded Joshua's features as he understood. "I told you I wouldn't give up," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Well, congratulations," you replied, your tone a mixture of sarcasm and genuine affection. "You win. Are you happy now?"
The smile that lit up Joshua's face was answer enough, but he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Happier than I've ever been."
With a playful roll of your eyes, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. As you lost yourself in the moment, you realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that withstand the test of time and separation, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before – even if they require a little (or a lot) of persistence along the way.
When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but laugh. "You know," you said, intertwining your fingers with his, "if you ever pull a disappearing act like that again, I'll hunt you down myself."
Joshua grinned, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Noted. Though I have to say, I kind of like this feisty side of you."
"Oh, you haven't seen feisty yet, Hong," you retorted, but your eyes were sparkling with happiness.
And if this man ever forget how lucky he is? Well, you'd be more than happy to remind him – right after you kissed him senseless, of course.
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brynn-lear · 2 months
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Sugar Pills (Yandere!Capitano/Reader)
Questionable Overview: You're getting real tired of Dottore's theatrics. Which is a great shame, considering how it's only now that Capitano learns the value of surface acting and masking. (from my series: #Capitano's So-Called Liability)
CW/Tags: there is no "real" age gaps since this is a Howl's Moving Castle scenario, slowburn/soft yandere themes, afab!reader, mild violence. While this fic isn't "too dark", the reader isn't mentally stable. Please prioritize your mental health first, you matter.
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When coming up with a proposal, you've learned that it's best to approach a harbinger when they're in the middle of an arms race. It's been ages since you've applied this knowledge, but luckily, dusting off memories of yesteryears isn't challenging.
"Can't even spare me a proper welcome?" You yawned, dropping a beaten and dead fatuus just inches away from an unforgettable metal-laced shoe. The sound of their empty vision clunked on the hard floor. "I might not be as much in the spotlight these days, dear, but isn't it good manners to greet your elders properly when they visit?"
The aforementioned shoe brushed the body away. "Hah. You make a terrible habit of flaunting that cosmetic age of yours."
And yet, there you stood, glaring with a smug head up high. No ordinaire can don the demeanor you flaunt in front of the second-ranked harbinger. You'll always keep the cloak-and-dagger act. Dramatics are second nature to those who earn their keep through blood money. You only saw it right to greet him with a more appropriate entrance. Bold and unfaltering in resolve.
"And you have a great habit of looking younger with each passing day," you feigned a chirpy tone. "Isn't that right, Doctor?"
Behind a crow's mask, crimson eyes bore holes into your very being.
Since you received that "birthday present" from him, he had sent out men to secretly nag you behind the Captain's back. They ask you why you haven't taken the medicine at best and attempt to drug you at worst. This rendezvous had been going on for weeks. Enough times that could manifest anger and murderous intent out of you until it did.
After reaching the limit of your patience, you murdered the last person to spike your perfectly fine water, took his vision and portable waypoint, and teleported to his master harbinger's base. Too much work just to get someone to stop pestering you.
The feeling is mutual. Il Dottore— the last of his perspective— also found your presence troublesome.
The second-ranked harbinger spent his "free" time in a painfully bright, pale room. He likes to dub this phase a "recovery state." Typically, there would be plenty of "him" to go around— but striking a deal for a gnosis always beckons a great deal of self-sacrifice. Or self-sacrifice-s. 
Hence why you pushed to visit him this instance. Despite his placid demeanor, you're confident he's eager to prove that there's a method to his madness. Oneself is always the greatest competitor. 
A proper arms race. 
"You know very well that I do not take youth as a compliment," he retorted, though his tone was considerably friendly. He made repeated tapping motions on his armchair, almost impatiently. "What trivial matter have you dared to interrupt my brainstorming session with? Speak now— I'll let you know I'm engaged with matters of greater significance."
"I've done my due diligence of personally replying to your last letter." You glared down at your last victim. "Consider this my thanks."
Without tearing your gaze away, you fished the medicine from your coat and threw it at his chest with all your might. The bottle shattered on the floor.
Greatly "offended" by your rude antics, Dottore defeatedly abandoned his scrawls and turned to properly look at you.
"You decided to skip the pills. How delightfully reckless of you, Granny (Y/n)." He sardonically smiled.
At least he has the decency to name you correctly.
You rolled your eyes as you approached. Once you were just a foot away, you stabbed the corpse's head once more with your cane's pointed base— the force harsh enough to splatter the livor mortis flesh and brain matter on the floor of his beloved laboratory.
What an unnecessarily extreme scene, befitting of your old title.
"I grow tired of your games, Zandik." You spat back. "Must you constantly send your men to make futile attempts to lace my food with your de-aging concoction? I don't appreciate discarding their bodies— much less some perfectly fine meals."
If Capitano were here, he would've made a vague comment about how your value on human life is concerning.
But he doesn't have to know about this interaction.
"You complain about my work, yet I vaguely recall an era in your life in which you'd routinely wake up screaming like a rooster in the morning." Dottore shrugged and pointed to himself. "And who provided you with a cure-all for those night terrors? Go on. I would be enthused to know."
You crossed your arms. The jaded look in your eyes heightened his interest. Hence, Dottore stood up, his footsteps crunching the shattered glass strewn about.
"Let me wager a proper hypothesis for this ...irrational behavior. A possible psychological or existential leaning toward death may be at the root of the patient's ongoing resistance to the recommended treatment." He craned his head like a bird inspecting its prey. "In simpler terms for meager minds like yours to understand: you're not accepting my charity since you wish to die. Is that right?" 
Dottore is a reasonable man. Disarmingly charming, even.
This particular segment just hates you.
You smiled back, returning the same malice.
"Who knows?" You tapped the beak of his mask. "Doesn't matter. I didn't come here to get psycho-analyzed. I came here because I want to strike a deal."
Dottore paused.
"I had a prediction that you would ensnare me with a gambit. No small wonder that Omega has found you a captivating individual, (Y/n)."
Many miss the fact that the good Doctor has a "seductive" air about him. He has a charisma that people will either dismiss in fear or fall victim to. You're part of the secret third group— the coworkers immune to his antics.
"Yes, well, I do pride myself on hosting the best picnics by the meadows of Ardravi Valley." You spoke, voice oozing with the same playful banter you once reserved for his deceased copy. "I've got no abundance in lifespan like you. I'd dare say I'm selling myself at a very limited-time offer."
However, this Dottore was not the one you befriended. This was his murderer.
"Playing the card of wisdom with that appearance may fool the world, but you can't dissuade me." Dottore clicked his tongue. "Are you mimicking Sohreh?"
What a surprisingly plain question.
You shrugged. "Am I?"
Feigning impassivity while he could, the Doctor placed a hand on your shoulder.
"Talk."
"I've only one wish, which is for you to stop being such a nuisance." You scoffed. "What can I do to get you to stop trying to make me your side experiment, Doctor?"
Intuition rarely fails you. You knew that this was a matter that could be reasoned with. The problem is that you needed to figure out what your bargaining chip would be. But by the look on his face, he had already sorted that out minutes, maybe even months, before you arrived.
His hand that once hovered on your shoulder slowly snaked towards your neck.
"I have a proposal," Dottore spoke softly.
You hardened your expression. "Spill."
"I can assist you in experiencing that honorable death you craved so much— at the right time and place." Using his thumb, he applied mild pressure against your throat. "However, I'll need you to befriend the upcoming tourists in Natlan."
You blinked.
… What a strange request.
"Befriend… The tourists?" You grabbed his intrusive hand, yanking it away. "What are you on about?"
"Under favorable circumstances, I would have had a copy extract these, but the old conventional tools are unavailable."
"But why?" You raised an eyebrow. "Dear, I just can't quite wrap my head around why this is the gamble you're betting your chips on—"
"And that is precisely why The Tsaritsa dubbed you La Ruffiana and not a respectable title," Dottore smirked, chuckling lowly. "Hence, I'll gladly elucidate you with brief guide questions in a language you're sure to comprehend."
"I'd rather we both save time by revealing the answer, pronto."
Since you had forgotten to let go of his wrist, he used your grip to pull you closer to him.
"Tell me, (Y/n), during the Sumeru fiasco…" With faces just inches away from each other, he tilted and teased your ear with his breath. "Who, indeed, served as the paramount subject in my quest to engineer a being that transcends even the might of the archons?"
… Who?
You placed a hand on his chin to create a respectable distance. "Child, I really hate to say this, but the world doesn't just spin around you and your little experiments. I wouldn't know a thing about that poor, nameless puppet you're on about. But if I had to take a wild guess, you're talking about that man you went and turned into a sorry excuse for an All-Knowing God, aren't you?"
Dottore grinned, baring his sharp teeth.
"I perceive that our memories from that period have been tampered with. Nevertheless, your hypothesis remains merely superficial. There exists an individual whom I regard as the genuine subject of this experiment. Would you toss one last conjecture?"
You let out a strangled air, unable to properly articulate your disbelief.
It's the traveler. Of course, it's her.
Dottore aspires to transform humans into gods, yet his attempts have thus far been in vain. Save for one young woman who sought refuge in both Mondstadt and Sumeru, all subjects have perished during testing. In your days as a harbinger, you've watched others toil over the vulneraries and prosthetics the Doctor would jam into them. Your visit to certain hospitals by the desert is your testimony to his apathy. He is driven by relentless curiosity, never pausing for the ethical implications of his research, but would spend hours on the feasibility of his experiments.
You were relieved when you heard he used an inorganic lifeform in his last experiment. But if that was a mere dud, then…
"Don't tell me— all this time, your real goal revolved around how the traveler could ascend into Godhood?" You gawked. "So whatever that puppet was, is nothing more than a self-fulfilling prophecy in failure? Your experiments in blasphemy will always find new ways to make me utterly sick."
You flinched as Dottore caressed your cheek. It wasn't the contact that shocked you.
It was the respect in his eyes.
"Hmm... About a year ago, you'd make conscious efforts to bite your tongue. I must remark that I am fascinated with the concerning spike of confidence your senile age brings."
"Things change." You mocked him. "You should try growing older. About a year ago, I wouldn't have this deal with you, too."
With that, the verbal contract was set into motion.
"We'll keep in touch."
He pulled away.
You scoffed. "If I believed in Celestia, I would've prayed you'd become a decent person."
"How unfortunate that you'll need a stronger God to achieve that ambition," Dottore laughed. "And materializing a stronger God is precisely part of my current objectives."
This heretic.
"I see now why you and Capitano are far too different to be colleagues."
You glared.
"Have your glory. You may receive everything— the ego in victory— the spoils of war. Celestia may even watch you steal the blessings of ascension. But you have no honor. You live with no happiness."
You grumbled while you walked away. The erratic sound of your cane reflected the rhythm of your anger and disgust. Before you left, you gave him one high note to end on.
"You dance with no music."
As soon as you were out of the vicinity, Dottore quickly returned to his near-incoherent scrawling.
"I'd rather be a fool who performs for no one," he grinned, his stomach tucking in from stifled laughter. "Than a blabbering grandmother scared of sugar pills."
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"(Y/N)!!!"
Upon your supposedly quiet return to the inn, you were greeted by a pair of large hands squeezing your cheeks with trembling worry.
"I told you to call me Granny—"
"Where have you been?!" He tilted your head, inspecting for wounds like an incompetent father. His strength would usually cause grief, but you've grown used to this. It's a sensation that's hard to hate.
His hands are rough but not unkind.
"When I awoke, I realized you were not in your room." He spoke, evident that he was reeling himself from rambling. Been a long while since you saw his long and gorgeous hair this messy. "Had I not instructed you not to wander alone without one of our men at your side."
The inn's staff whispered among themselves while his men stiffly avoided gazing at you two. You cringe at everyone's bloodshot eyes. There's more room to pity the Natlan locals— they didn't ask to be involved. Capitano ordered a search party this late on your behalf when there was zero need for it. The attention was getting embarrassing.
You should've known that he'd notice your absence.
Damn it. You were barely gone for half an hour.
"Steel yourself, child. I don't need your men to coddle me." Months have passed, and he has yet to accept that you do not have a respectable position as a personal assistant. "I can wander around Natlan as safe as I please, kid. Are you seriously doubting my strength?"
That dirty tactic sobered him up.
"You know that isn't so." Capitano sighed, letting you go. "I know you're plenty capable, however..."
"Need I remind you that before the incident, I was originally the Harbinger tasked with retrieving the pyro gnosis?" You shook your head, feigning disappointment. "You should know by now that I've studied this place's typography and wildlife. No encounter could shock and harm me— even with these old bones."
"It's precisely why I worry over you," Capitano glared slightly. "With your curse, you could've been marked by foes out there."
"I didn't go anywhere far. I was just sightseeing."
"That explanation doesn't wash. I saw the glow of a portable waypoint when you came back."
… How observant. That's the first ranked harbinger for ya, you supposed.
"Okay, maybe I went home for a bit, so what?" You pouted. "It's a bit too warm in here for my liking."
The inn's staff immediately froze up.
"N-Not that it's bad, of course!" You laughed nervously. Ah, shit, let's not involve them. "It's my fault 'cause I didn't raise that concern with them. Old ladies such as myself are so stubborn. Hmm, hmm!"
Gradually, Capitano relaxed.
"I understand. At least, I'll choose to understand your fib for now."
"Not quite out of the cage yet, am I?" You joked.
"Not at all." Capitano exhaled softly, a hand barely covering his gentle smile. His voice made it painfully apparent that you're off the hook.
He's such a terrible liar.
Before you could comment on this, Capitano reached out his hand.
"Come with me." He wagged his fingers towards him, beckoning you to come closer. "Let's continue our conversation somewhere private."
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Out of the 11 harbingers and those who had come and gone, you know Capitano the most.
"I didn't realize Natlan nights can be cold." You spoke thoughtlessly.
He stared at you blankly. "Cold enough to prevent you from running back home, clearly."
"Ah."
And likewise, he knows you best as well.
You digressed in an instant. "Why did you bring me here, Little Captain?"
You stood by a cliff, staring at the quiet night in the humble town. There's a noticeable increase of guards on patrol since the Fatui arrived in Natlan, but with Capitano as the lead, you saw no reason for their alarm. Obviously, Capitano didn't bring you here to make that observation. Judging from how his stare is on the ground and not the beautiful sight, public perception is pushed at the back of his mind.
"Your cane…" He whispered.
"What about it?"
"You forgot to wash the blood away."
Inspecting the cane without lifting it, you realize what he meant.
"Oh."
"Who was it?" His voice sounded a bit more stern.
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Who was what?"
There was a shift in the air.
"Who attacked you?"
You laughed uncontrollably.
"W-What?! Pfft— puh-lease! No one attacked me." You poked his helmet. He stared you down, unamused. "No-bo-dy."
Capitano has yet to let his anger go. He spoke steadily, but he wasn't fooling you. "I'll ask once more: who attacked you?"
"Don't tell me your memory is worse than this old lady's," you clicked your tongue. "I just told you, it's nobody."
Capitano shifted his foot down slightly. "Elena reported that you were assaulting a fatuus with your cane in an isolated dining area."
Curses. You thought you were alone. To be caught by Elena, of all people? Your senses must be dulling.
"Well, one of your men— I suppose— was disrespecting their elders."
"I ordered a headcount. None of my men have gone missing." Capitano crossed his arms. "Besides, they know better than aggravating my most prized assistant."
Should've known that lie won't fly.
"Okay, maybe it wasn't one of your men." Obviously it was Dottore's, but you bit your tongue. "But you should know I'm a polarizing figure in the Fatui. I heard someone say that getting rid of me is a noble act cause they'd be removing your right from employing an absolute loser."
"(Y/n), where did you get those ideas?"
Honestly? Straight out of your 'lovely' imagination. If not inspired by Pantalone's past remarks as well— just cruder.
It’s almost commendable how easy it is to assume everyone is out to get you. The work environment certainly helps. A strange grin or remark is sufficient to validate any doubts. Probably illogical for you to live life this way. You're aware enough that not every whisper is about you and that not every grin hides some hidden agenda, yet the uncertainties still seep in so effortlessly that it almost seems like breathing.
You've yet to find someone who will prove your inherent distrust wrong. That body you hurled at Dottore earlier was no exception.
"Whoever attacked me doesn't matter; I got rid of them."
"I know you did. I don't reserve any doubt whatsoever. That is not the issue at hand." Capitano shook his head, his last words hiding a slight growl. "What I am perturbed by is how you had hidden this from me."
Your eyes widened.
"I-I'm sorry, forgive me, Capitano." You fumbled. "It was genuinely not as big as you think it is. A traitor was in the mist, and I took care of it."
"You were targeted, (Y/n)," Capitano said, nearly whispering as he gently took your hands. No matter how callous he was or how much his skin resembled etched maps, they held yours with great care.
His eyelids drooped slightly, hiding unspoken grief. "You were attacked when I made an oath that I would protect you while you are under my care..."
Capitano's tone softened further, almost withdrawn from hurt.
"I should have been there..."
You've never been one to immediately process emotions in a snap. When you and Capitano share ideas, theories intersect like constellations on Teyvat nights. But that look in his eye? You can't read what he's thinking.
"Why do you fret over it, dearie? Death is but a doorbell away for me." You hummed with a wide smile. "I'll be claimed soon enough. Maybe tonight might even be the night. Oh, honey, it's no skin off the Tsaritsa's back if an old gal like me bites the dust."
You have a feeling you said the worst thing imaginable at that moment.
Capitano said nothing.
In fact, you'd wager that was on purpose.
There's a glint in his eye. A look that you couldn't place— a dangerous thought you can't hear. It ringed endlessly in his ears, and the slight tremor in his fingertips proved it. His blue eyes stared straight into your soul.
A revelation. An epiphany. A newfound raison d'etre that he refused to let anyone know— you specifically.
Something about him drastically changed.
But that look vanished in an instant.
Capitano's mouth curled upward.
The smile did not reach his eyes. 
"I prefer if it's kind sleep who takes you tonight," Capitano muttered. "Death is far too early for a woman like you."
"A woman like me?" You chuckled. "You meant grandmother, right? And what do you mean by that?"
"A woman like you deserves all the time in the world, not to be taken prematurely. Your spirit is far too bright to be dimmed so soon." He took off his cloak. "Because a woman like you is a woman loved by many."
Capitano wrapped his cloak around you before you realized it. As you looked down, you noticed how much larger his frame was than yours. The cloak reached the floor when you donned it. Though it was night, the cologne he put on reminded you of sun-drenched clothes and steel— but it's possible that this was just Capitano's natural scent.
"I should add cloaks as an interest for your late birthday present." You could practically hear the smile on his face as he said, "It suits you."
Something about the way he sounded was way off now.
The weariness from your conversations with Dottore seemingly washed away. You grabbed a fistful of the cloak and raised it. "I think every tailor in Teyvat would beg to differ."
Capitano chuckled. "Respectfully, they wouldn't know any better."
"And you do?" You raised an eyebrow, but that grin on your face is too difficult to wipe off. "I don't think you know me well, little Captain."
You continued.
"Anyone can learn to like me, but to love me…"
Is devastating.
You trailed off, eyes back on the quiet streets. You've always admired those who teased on the edge of retirement and eternal sleep, their bravery surpassing the young's. They act on reckless abandon, unburdened by the opinions of others. Alice saw this in you, and she knew— deep in her heart— that she'd be more than willing to help you embrace that freedom in whatever form that may take.
Since you became a "grandmother", seemingly everything and nothing has changed. You've pushed away those who pretended to care, only to find that no soul can stand to be with you. Maybe it was a glorious boon or just as the witch said— a desperate cry for help, nothing more. The experience so far taught you things you already knew you hated about yourself that you wondered if this were all for the sake of mastery. Have you destroyed yourself for nothing? Who knows. But you'll continue to take solace that maybe, just maybe, death may end the loneliness you've endured for so long.
But if you so badly chase for death…
"████████."
You looked at him.
"Can I ask for a favor?"
You're going to do it right.
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Taglist: @macaronilovingracoon, @lucienbarkbark, @meimeimeirin, @notthefib987, @meowmeowakutagawa
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shalomniscient · 2 months
Note
i need kafhime to take turns in fucking me until i can’t think of anything but their cocks/straps pounding into me😞
[nsft utc]
himeko is normally a lot gentler. sweeter. she prefers to take it slow, to dot kisses like constellations on your soft skin as she slowly coaxes you open around her strap. she likes watching you accomodate, the pleased flutter of your lashes as pleasure blooms through your limbs like a rosy dawn. she likes a more languid pace, trading speed for depth, ensuring the tip of her strap kisses the spot right below your cervix with every drive. himeko likes to kiss you as you moan and mewl for her, your legs wrapped around her waist as you clutch onto her broad shoulders. she likes to be gentle with you, to treat you with the reverence you deserve.
himeko usually likes to go slow—until kafka shows up.
the stellaron hunter has an uncanny ability to slither beneath himeko’s skin, especially with how ruthlessly she fucks you. kafka is the antithesis of everything himeko is; kafka likes to go fast and go hard. kafka doesn’t wait for you to get used to the size of her thick strap, setting an unforgiving pace right from the start and delighting in the way you scream for her. kafka doesn’t cradle you in her arms and call you sweet things, she pushes your head down into the mattress with one hand and lifts your hips with the other while she calls you her darling, filthy little whore.
and you like it.
himeko knows you like how she fucks you too—she’s made you squirt just like kafka has, made you brainless on her cock like kafka has, but something about the hunter’s stupid smug smirk as makes you see stars has himeko’s blood boiling. hence why she now has you on all fours on the bed as she fucks into you with harsh thrusts, all while kafka watches on from the side of the bed, amused.
“go harder, ‘meko,” she croons, gloved fingers reaching out to caress your cheek, “she can take it.” you pant and moan against the hunter’s hand, and himeko scowls as she drives in particularly hard on the next thrust, earning a pleased cry from your lips.
“don’t tell me what to do,” she huffs, and kafka laughs, unbothered by himeko’s sharp tone. her eyes settle down on you instead, at the way your arms tremble from the effort of holding yourself up as himeko fills you over and over again. kafka kneels on the bed before you, the deep burgundy of her own strap stark against her milky skin. it’s shiny in the low light, covered in the slick of your previous orgasm that she had wrung out of you with nothing short of a virtuoso’s touch. she tilts your chin up, barely supressing a shiver of pure lust as she notes the nearly fucked-out look in your eyes. she rests the tip of her cock on your cheek, idly shifting her hips to drag the tip from your cheekbone to the corner of your mouth, smearing your face with your own cum like some poor imitation of a caress. you shiver at the act, pussy squeezing around himeko’s strap, and the navigator sucks in a breath as she notes the way more pearls of your gossamer slick drip out of you to coat the base of her strap.
“say, himeko,” kafka asks casually, her thumb swiping over your lips before slipping inside to press on your tongue, “how about a little competition? let’s see who’s really the best at making our pretty girl cum herself stupid.”
you moan around kafka’s finger as you suck on it, and himeko chews the inside of her cheek. she’s half tempted to refuse; she doesn’t need to prove herself to kafka at all, she knows that, but there’s a competitive streak that burns deep within her and it has her agreeing maybe a little too fast. in any case, it’ll be enjoyable regardless, in the end. and if she does in fact ‘win’ this little competition, she gets the added bonus of rubbing it in kafka’s face.
“fine,” she says, almost petulantly, and kafka grins. “but no spirit whisper.”
kafka rolls her eyes and leans back on the bed, fingers winding in your hair to guide your lips to the tip of her cock. “don’t worry little miss navigator, i won’t need it.” her gaze flicks down to you, dark and dangerous as you slowly take her strap into your mouth. “isn’t that right, pretty girl?”
kafka and himeko take turns fucking your cunt and your mouth, until your brain turns to mush in your skull. kafka pulls you up as she fucks you from behind, her fingers playing your stiff clit like she plays her violin. then himeko has you ride her strap, coaxing you up and down its length as she presses her hand flat against the bulge in your tummy. it goes on and ok until at one point, kafka is balls deep inside you while himeko braces your body from behind, her fingers toying with your kiss-swollen nipples when your safeword falls from your lips in between stuttering gasps of air. kafka stills immediately, and himeko’s hands go to your waist, petting you soothingly. despite their competitive streak, they treat you as if you’re made of porcelain now. kafka even whispers a few sweet words into your ear as you lay down in himeko’s arms. it doesn’t take long for you to drift off, tired as you are.
it’s such a shame their competition ended in a tie. but that’s fine; you’ll happily agree to have a do-over later so they can finally crown a winner, won’t you?
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bluerthanvelvet444 · 6 months
Text
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆。˚ ⁀➷
(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)
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tags: sfw and nsfw.
warnings: none.
character count: 7k.
this was a request!
ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆。⁀➷
He LOVES playing games with you.
Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.
He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.
His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.
“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.
“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.
“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.
“Who said I paid for it?”
He takes you anywhere you want.
You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.
You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.
In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.
He always matches your mood.
If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.
If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.
If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.
He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.
You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.
“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.
“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.
“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.
“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.
“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.
“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.
“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.
He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.
His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.
“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.
“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”
“Oh.”
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆。˚ ⁀➷
He’s horny 24/7.
Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.
You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.
“I barely touched you…” You teased.
“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.
He’s such a switch.
You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.
“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.
“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.
He’s open to all types of sex with you.
Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.
Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.
Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.
Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.
No toys!
One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?
He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.
Quickies in public are more common than you think.
With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.
“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.
“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.
He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.
“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind
a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶
all rights reserved!!
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ohnoa · 27 days
Text
₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚...𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡
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.☘︎ ݁˖ 𝐬𝐲𝐧. 𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 ᥫ᭡. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭. 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ༯ 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑫𝑵𝑰
...word count: 1.1k
...note from irene: don't ask.
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nanami kento rests languidly on the edge of the bed, your back in his view as he graciously takes the mantle of an attentive husband.
“i literally can’t with you. you’re a natural at this stuff,” you huff, somewhere between a vent and a bout of praise that he found endearing nonetheless. he raises an eyebrow, albeit dazed by the hypnotic show of you being able to reach your own zipper - who’s a natural at what? you, who resumes your tirade with an obliviousness towards his wandering eyes, is a natural at enchanting him. your hair was blown out, almost reaching your shoulders in cloudy tufts - that had been the last mission of tonight, a hairstyle more laborious than the act of lifting weights. “you can easily get away with being stand-offish, which…i’m not saying you are but…”
he releases a soft chuckle, adjusting his cufflinks, “now, humor me for a second, my love. when have you ever seen me get defensive?” 
“huh?” you tilt your head in confusion eyeing him expectantly through your reflection as you secure your earring. 
“you don’t need to worry about insulting me, darling. i can take it. if you think i’m stand-offish, just say it.”
you briefly turn to face him, bestowing a histrionic look of indignation. “i wasn’t saying that! okay—” you raise your hands in surrender, “you are quite stoic. does that do you justice?”
he offers a hum, one of satisfaction, an invitation for you to continue to the point you had intended to make. and you do just that, bending over the vanity to apply your lip gloss as kento’s attention blithely averts to the curve of your ass. “so, yes. you could get away with what will earn me, at best, some auntie in the corner asking me if i’m okay like…please! i’m fine! i just wanna be left alone!” 
he chuckles along with you again, silently basking in your mirthful exchange… until he notices it. within seconds. the brief drag of hesitation as you began working on your hair. your makeshift puff remains put, arms raised for your hands to take the temporary role of a hair tie and…
…oh dear.
you were staring at your underarms again. in acute disdain. 
he needn’t say a word - this conundrum was as foreign to him as a blue sky. but you’ve only complained about it once, a main focus on the fruitlessness of your spending. all these regimens, remedies and receipts the length of the great wall of china for them to still be there - sizable splotches of pigmentation that you just can’t seem to get rid of, no matter how hard you try.
once, you’ve verbally lamented. 
but more than once, you’d been reluctant to don anything without sleeves, participate in anything remotely related to summer - and if you did, not lifting your arms was the war you were prepared to die in. and tonight, well, you’d had the misfortune of learning life’s indifference. the thin straps of your silky, cream white dress were well in torturing you with a reminder.
a click of the tongue bounces off the walls of your bedroom, and kento tries to think less about how your beauty terrifies him, opting to soothe you with his adeptness in subtlety. 
“darling,” he begins, standing to walk towards you, “i think you should wear your hair down.”
“hm, i think so too,” you smile warmly at him through your reflection, conducting his suggestion by letting go of your hair and instead opting to comb it out, “let’s just hope it doesn’t rain tonight. i honestly don’t get the appeal of outdoor parties.”
all that follows is a soft hum, one of admiration. truly, you are an angel sent from heaven. more than just the angelic glow of your skin under the vanity light, your smile - your soul - can account for that. he watches you, deftly pulling at your coils to maintain the perfect shape - watching you fruitlessly strive to perfect the one thing that has always been just that. you. perfect.
“what?” you meekly acknowledge his stare with a shy smile, halting your movements. 
“my love,” he drags, moving close enough for his hands to reach your hips. your attention moves away from your hair, prompting you to put your comb down and heed the sensation of his chest meeting your back. kento’s hands are calculated, a dexterous trace of your curves striving for a different kind of tenor - a lead from one thing to a delectable other. he moves his lips towards your ear, hazel eyes meeting yours through the mirror in a wordless declaration of unabashed desire. “you know that every inch of you is perfect, right?”
you shiver, at your best to conceal your want to reciprocate by scoffing playfully, “fancy, i’ve never pegged you for the corny type.” 
“i mean it,” he rejoins, ignoring your jest, softly kissing the shell of your ear before he performs the unexpected, a hand moving to gently grab your wrist, lifting your arm up above your head. “every…inch.”
oh. 
he really means it.
heat rises to your cheeks, noting how observant he had been towards your behavior earlier - this wasn’t new to you. you could stain a white shirt with pasta sauce and he’d counter your dismay by saying that it should’ve been there when you first bought it. he’d praise any part of you from head to toe. that realization had been made many moons ago. now, as all attention falls upon your exposed underarm, you forgo the need to protest, keeping your arm raised and resting your hand on the back of your husband’s head, fingertips blissfully pricked by the sharpness of his undercut. 
“mmm…every inch, you say?” you murmur with feigned cynicism, a grin rising as Kento’s hand gently slides down the tricep of your raised arm. 
“mhm…every…inch” your heartbeat is the toms of an acoustic drum set, as he reaches your underarm, lightly grazing the skin with his fingertips, prompting you to shiver at the ticklish sensation. “god, you’re breathtaking…”
he breathes it out like it’s the first time, and the sight before you is…sinful? a burlesque plays out in your reflection, a hand sensually caressing your hip whilst the other continues to draw reverent patterns on the area you’ve detested for eons. your husband, so fucking handsome, buries his face in crook of your neck, inspiring every last bit of your scent, and you still can’t help but huff in amusement, “hm, my black armpits were the ones to bring you to that revelation?”
“you amuse me, my love,” is the muffled, half dismissal towards your counter, followed by a kiss on your neck, “now, let me enjoy you.”
you giggle softly, meek at how your husband's brief praise towards your underarm has ever so slightly titillated you, “we’re gonna be late, you know…”
he perks up, privy to the suggestion you so dared to make, “if memory serves me correctly, it’s you who fails to see the appeal in these outdoor parties.”
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rakurairagnarok · 9 months
Text
I dedicate this story to my good friend and writing buddy @idesofrevolution. Merry Christmas buddy and please PLEASE Enjoy. Happy holidays to everyone and Happy TF's.
A Green Christmas
`What!!`
Ryan screamed at the news.
You sighed.
´I have no choice, my family has to move, and I have to go as well, I don´t have any accommodation here.´
Ryan grumbled. `Bro... you can´t leave me man... you´re my best bud.´
You grimaced. Your friend had been acting weird lately. You used to be super close, and you honestly still are, but your interests had began to shift. You used to play games, watch cartoons and study together, but lately Ryan had become absent from you life. He had been ´busy´ with other things but his grades had been plummeting and he had picked up smoking. Ryan had no idea you knew this, but you had seen the pictures from your classmates. His wardrobe had changed too. Before he would wear shirts and khakis, now its oversized shirts and hoodies. He started wearing contacts as well, which, to be honest, was a great look for him, he looked very handsome without glasses. His lingo had switched as well. No more academic jargon. Just simple sentences, which almost always had at least one bro in them.
`Look Ryan, I really am sorry, but I just can´t make this work´
Your family was moving, and while you were a college student, who by all accounts should have received some form of scholarship due to your amazing grades, you never did. The truth however, was that you wanted to move. The alienating feeling you got from your former best friend broke something in you, and you had to put some distance between eachother. You could easily apply for the on-campus dormitories but you just couldn`t bear staying near the now almost stranger.
`Look you´d better go, I want to be home before Christmas and I still have a lot of packing to do.'
Ryan sighed and left. After closing the door behind him, You let out a grunt.
"Why does it have to be this way! What happend to him?"
Reluctantly you began packing. Your father would come and get you and your things on Christmas eve, so you had your work cut out for you. You were currently staying Ryan, but this had always been a temporary solution. Ryan's landlord didn't want two friends staying together only couples or families. Ryan had become quite open to you about his sexuality. He had told you he was bisexual and that he could always tell the landlord the two of you were dating, but you had declined. You had a hard enough time not getting picked on. If word would get out that you two were dating, you would not be able to survive. What Ryan didn't know is that you were in fact also bisexual. You really liked girls but men really were where you got your satisfaction. From porn that is, because you were still a virgin. You grew up in a strict Christian household, with a Father from the south. Your parents would never approve and they were the reason you didn't have to work, so coming out was never an option.
A loud knock shook you from your deep train of thought. You opened the door and Ryan was standing right there, smiling.
"Steven, can we talk bro?"
"Ryan, I told you. I need to pack for..."
"Please, just for a little while."
"...Fine..."
Ryan walked in and sat down on your bed.
"Look man... I've been thinking... I need to be honest with you about something."
You looked at your former best friend with confusion. He had been so dominant and confident these last few weeks, and all of a sudden he looked shy and insecure.
"I... I picked up smoking... and... not just cigarettes. Weed too"
You sighed.
"I know Ryan, I have seen you. Don't worry, it's whatever... Your body, your choice."
Ryan smiled.
"Yeah for reallll broo but, I wanted to ask you a favor."
"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient.
"Come sit down first" Ryan had this shit eating grin on his face, his perfect white teeth on display. Wait that doesn't sound right. he had braces right?
Because you took so long, Ryan grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the bed, right next to him.
"What the hell man!" You exclaimed.
He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, his musky scent drilling into your nose, and holds something up to your face.
"I really, really want to smoke this with you man. Like dying wish and shit."
You look down and see a blunt in between his fingers.
"I don't smoke Ryan, you know this" You point out.
" Just one hit bro, that's all, I won't tell anyone, you don't have to smoke any more, just humor me with this man."
You took a deep breath and wanted to decline, but then something clicked.
"You know what. Sure."
Ryan's grin widened. 'Let's fucking go bro!!!" He quickly grabbed a lighter, and lit the blunt.
He took the first hit, blowing the smoke right into your face, the fumes invading your nose and throat, leaving you gasping for air.
"Sorry there bro, just wanted to give you a little taste."
"I'm only taking one hit bro... fuck" Your eyes widen not only did you just curse, something which you rarely do, you also just used bro in your sentence. Hoping he didn't notice you hold out your hand to take the blunt.
Ryan, who's grinning from ear to ear, hands you the blunt, and you quickly take a hit. You deeply inhale, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the weed invade your brain. A single hit, and you can almost feel your brain stopping.
"W...whaaat the fuuuuuck" You mumble. Your jaw slacks a bit as the smoke escapes from your lips.
"You gonna take that hit or not bro?" Ryan asked with a sly grin on his face.
"Huh didn't I just?'' You asked confused.
"Bro are you already tripping? I just blew some smoke in your face man, thats all. Now come on bro, you promised."
You took a hit, taking a deep breath, feeling the smoke fill your lungs, and your whole body. Slowly blowing out you feel constricted. You look down to see your buttoned up shirt bulging. You tug on it a bit, and it flies open, revealing a chiseled abdomen and two meaty pecs.
"Brooo wat the fahk' You mumble. "My chest is so big... what the hell"
"Yeah bro I know right. I love that strain. Made me who I am today" Ryan smirks as he takes off his hoodie showing his massive arms and chest.
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You look in awe as he stretches a bit, his smooth torso , and bulging muscles on display. He drops his sweats, showing off a massive bulge in his white briefs as he looks at you and smirks.
"Wanna take another hit bro?"
Before he even finished his sentence the blunt was back in your mouth, filling you up with even more smoke. You look down and begin to giggle as you bounce your growing pecs.
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"Huhuhu broo they are so bigg... what the shit..." You say as a familiar musk begins radiating from your growing body.
Ryan smiles back.
"Yeah bro you're getting so fuckin huge. You're so hot"
You look at him with a flushed face.
"What... did you say?"
"You're hot. You look amazing."
"Thanks..." You can't help but blush, seeing as he himself is a fucking model.
"You're really hot yourself" You say with a beetred face
Ryan stops smiling and looks at you. He sits down and looks you in the eyes.
"I don't want you to go Stevey. I love you..."
Your eyes widen at the words, and before you know it, his lips get pressed against yours. Before you can react he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and a torrent of smoke follows suit. It's almost as if hes blowing you up, and it feels that way too, Your muscles getting bigger, your mind hazier, and your dick... well...
You manage to push away and look at him.
"Ry... I ... "
"yeah?"
"I think... no ... I know... I love you too man"
Ryan signature shit eating grin flies back onto his face.
"Fuck yeah bro!!"
A sheepish smile creeps onto your face as you grab the blunt from his fingers, taking a massive hit before grabbing his neck and blowing the smoke into his mouth.
"You're so sexy." You say as he blows the smoke back into your face.
"What about you then, such a fucking cute stud you are"
The two of you continue laughing, finishing the blunt before crawling into each others arms.
You text your dad that he doesn't have to come get you anymore, as you will be staying with your boyfriend, and promptly block him afterwards.
You nuzzled up to your boyfriends pit and took a deep breath. It smelled amazing and it bricked you up knowing you smell the same.
This will be a pretty special Christmas.
__________________________________________________________
Happy Holidays Everyone!!!! Feel free to send in some asks or order something at Rakurai Inc.!!!
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directdogman · 2 months
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Super stoked for the Roger DLC and WILL be playing it on release, but something that’s been bugging me ever since the first few teasers was Peter, his personality feels quite different to me and my Peter obsessed friend, is there a reason for his personality change or was it completely unintentional?
He feels a lot more hot headed now, not completely the same as but similar to Steven, which feels like a complete 180 for Peter, I always remember enjoying him more in DSaF 2 because he was the more relaxed Phoney who when he had geniunely serious moments, it was incredibly impactful and gut wrenching when Peter would yell at me. 😔
Also, will Steven ever be real in dialtown please sir I miss my wif-
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The comparison just always bothered me slightly.
Different universes. I should note that while Peter IS chiller in DSaF 2, if the restaurant goes under, the main consequence is that the company will get mortally wounded and he might die. The other employees will (for the most part) be fine. Peter cares. He cares if you hurt employees, he cares if you fuck up but is also willing to look the other way a few times if the fuckup isn't bad enough (without letting it slide, because he still cares what you do at work too.) I'd say his attitude at work namely stems from that, rather than the other way around. Steven does NOT care. He is literally willing to throw you under the bus to save himself and his sole goal is keeping the place open specifically so he can save his own hide, and his hot-headedness comes from that.
In DT, Peter is at the end of his rope and has had to deal with a LOT up until this point, arguably even more than his DSaF counterpart in terms of his day to day job, as shocking as that may sound. There's also WAY more on the line this time. He isn't the one that's going to face the worst of what'll happen if things continue at their current trajectory (unlike Peter or Steven in their original games.) He explains this pretty early into the DLC, which may explain why he's testier than you remember him, namely what's on the line. He's trying his damndest to fix it but is failing. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place with Roger, recognizing his bad leadership is sinking the plant but caring too much about the guy to effectively deal with it until this point.
His guard is up because it has to be, but he does have a few nice moments where it's clear how much he cares and if you listen to Roger's dialogue carefully, you'll see just how much Peter has put up with that would've made any sane person walk away. He's also noticeably nicer to Gingi if you don't waste his time and seem to actually care about Roger, and he acts closer to how he does in the DSaF 2 screenshot you showed off, though perhaps with slightly less energy (since he is, like I said, at the end of his rope.) There's even a scene in the evil route where you can identify this and use it against him in a pretty sinister way.
To mention another thing that even Gingi sees as far back as his original scene in DT: He's a natural manager who's playing second-fiddle to someone who clearly doesn't know what he's doing.
I didn't just wanna do more of the same, so I played with the dynamics a lil. Peter is in a very different role here, one that he's not exactly suited to. He's out of his element. He's inundated with work and in this scene, is thinking about the lives of the employees who are going to be laid-off in a week or so time if things don't change FAST, and while this is happening, his boss is bantering with a weird cryptid on the street and talking about random garbage.
There are times in DSaF 2, like you said, where you do see him get like this. It's not as much that his character is different in my eyes, but that the context is. This is a version of Peter who is one bad day away from having to make a difficult decision. Literally. I'll gladly talk more about it when the DLC's out (namely I could compare + contrast certain decisions he makes!) For now, I don't wanna spoil anything that isn't explicitly stated in the first major scene he has.
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majesticarlette · 6 months
Text
Enemies
Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Ladybug!Reader
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"Surrender your Miraculous, Chat Noir!" You shouted as you glare at him from above on top of the Eiffel Tower.
"Dream on, Ladybug." He smirked and fires multiple Cataclysms in your direction. You used your yo-yo as a shield to protect yourself and fled the Eiffel Tower.
The city of Paris is once again troubled by a megakuma and after you just de-evilized the butterfly, a wild Chat Noir appeared. It's exhausting to deal with two birds with one stone but it's worth it. He was able to expand his powers, making the fights between you more difficult. He could fire multiple but limited cataclysms now. If he expanded his own powers, you sure also did. It's only fair to fight a lion if you're also a lion.
Chat Noir followed you as you escape the Eiffel Tower. Fortunately, he isn't as sharp as a knife, and with your street-smarts, you were able to lose him.
"This is taking too long, I have a date later." You groaned and you activated your second lucky charm, and it gave you a superglue. At this point, you're not going to question how it is used, but to figure out what to do about it fast.
You came back to where the fight was and scanned the environment, and you didn't spot anything to use the superglue with.
"You sure ain't good at hiding, huh, Ladybug?" You turned around and saw Chat spinning his baton, and you finally knew how to end this thing at once.
"Eh, you didn't even catch up to me given your cat abilities. Lame." You rolled your eyes trying to provoke him. He charges at you, and you two get into a fight worse than a catfight.
You love angering the cat in front of you, and the way he's slowly losing his cool from you dodging his scratches satiates an itch in your brain. You don't really hate him in the beginning, you actually wanted to cooperate with this kitty but something about the two of you just don't click. He doesn't plan his punches, he's impulsive, arrogant, doesn't like getting told what to do, and claiming he's a solo flight in fights.
Even actual cats don't behave this way, they won't exert much energy for this crap. Ugh!
Chat Noir growls and starts exerting more strength in his moves trying to bring you down.
"Oh... I see sweat, Kitty. Are you having a hard time? You think you're the only cat who's gonna lose to a bug?" You laugh earning a yell of rage from him. At this point in the fight, you're just dodging his offenses and waiting for a sign to use your lucky charm.
"You think you're all that?! You can't even defeat the megakuma by yourself!"
"Please, you think you did anything? You acted like a cat who broke a glass and thinks he did something great. In short you made it way worse!" He managed to scratch your suit earning a clean incision on your arm. You flinched at the sensation and let out a gasp.
Distracted, Chat Noir took this advantage to reach his staff from behind. He extended it to knock you out of the fight.
You flew from the impact and held onto his staff. You groaned from the pain and checked yourself from any more damages. As you were standing up, Chat Noir used his extended staff to knock you out of your balance, once again falling on your ass.
He chuckled at your state retracting his staff. "You think highly of yourself--"
"And you don't?!--" You hiss
"Shh! I'm talking!" He glared at you. "This is why you're so hard to deal with, you're so stubborn!" As he was about to rant his troubles about you, he saw you wiping blood from your injured arm. His eyes grew wide, did he cause this? If he did... Why would he even care? You deserved it! You don't believe in him! Is it deep, though? It might get infected...
He shook his thoughts and tried to put his staff back but it won't budge. He furrowed his eyebrows and held onto the other end to try and get it off the other but both ended up stuck. He groans in annoyance while putting much force to get it off, yet no luck.
You laughed at the scene and stood from where you were. "I told you, you don't plan ahead. I guess curiosity really killed the cat." You used your yo-yo strings to wrap around his ankles and yanked him up on the street lamp.
"Admit defeat?" You held up the super glue you used on his staff and pinched the cheeks of his upside down face. He only furrowed his brows further. "You know your face could get stuck on that expression--" As things were getting your way, beeping was heard from the two of you. "Not now!" You retracted your yo-yo from him. "This isn't over!" You ran away, leaving him on his own.
You let out a sigh after de-transforming back to your civilian self. You were exhausted from fighting two people today. Why can't Chat Noir surrender his miraculous so you can give it to the person who deserves it, like Marinette! Why did Master Shifu give it to him to begin with?
Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone was alarmed. "Oh, no! I totally forgot!" You really need to have a hero/life balance, how will you get to know your other half if you always prioritize hero duties?
You ran your heart out to the park to meet your date today. Panting, you scanned the area to see any signs of him but he was nowhere to be seen. Yeah, he already went home, it's really rude to make your date wait for a while, he might've felt embarrassed.
Sighing for the second time, you turned around and decided to walk home. "(Y/n)! Wait!" The familiar voice alerted you and looked around for the source, and there you saw him, Adrien. He was running towards you.
"I'm sorry, I was late! We hid from the megakuma and only stepped out when it was clear." He panted, catching his breath. Yeah, you and Chat Noir really contributed to his lateness.
"Are you okay? Were you hurt from the villain?" He cupped your cheeks checking you for any injuries.
"N-no! I'm fine, really!" You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling flustered by his presence.
Little did you know, Adrien noticed your arm injury. It's really identical to what he did to Ladybug.
Yeah, you did not only forget one thing.
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sickeninglyshoujo · 7 months
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a/n: finally finished this after being left such an essay about dad!price by @connorsui that made me want to cry with joy that someone liked my silly rambling that much so now have dad!johnny
part 1: simon here
part 2: price here
part 4: gaz here
masterlist here
buy me a ko-fi
warnings: pregnancy
word count: 1.7k
Soap has always told you that he wanted a house full of babies with you and will not take no for an answer
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You rolled your eyes everytime thinking he's exaggerating but he never was.
He tells you so during your romps “Gannae pump you full of babies, mama” With any other man it would ruin the moment but the way soap snarls it out sends heat spiraling through you and having you begging him to cum inside. He’ll wear the condom if you ask him to, but he won’t bring it out on his own volition. He knows you’re the person he wants to build a family with, has known since the first date when you rolled your eyes at all his corny jokes and groaned in mock pain.
Soap will not heed doctor’s advice and tries to palm at you before you’re ready, not even caring when you whine about things not being tight and firm like they used to be
“You’re positively bonnie lass, even more now that I know those stretch marks came from our baby that you carried for me.”
Feral for a man who calls me mama
Soap will absolutely come up behind you and grab at your flesh every time you put the baby down for a nap, “Cannae help myself lass,” he’d pant as he’s rutting against you, a man possessed,  “You’ve been teasing me all day!” Even though you don’t recall doing so
You’d been taking care of the baby all morning and hadn’t paid much mind to your hyper husband as he flitted around doting on you and the little one. Little did you know that’s what he meant. Seeing you be such a good mom and a mom to HIS baby had gotten him rock hard
It was tough for him to get through your pregnancy because each time he looked at your growing belly he got turned on 
“Johnny I’m already pregnant you know, we don’t have to keep trying,” you teased every time his hands began to wander down below your hips.
“Ah cannae help it, mama, you’re glowing!” He mutters trying to nuzzle under your shirt
Asked the doctor explicitly if pregnancy sex would hurt the baby. 
“Johnny!” You hissed
“Need to know if I have to behave myself for nine months lass”
Thankfully the good-humored doctor laughed at his requests. Johnny listened intently as the doctor discussed the pros and cons of both the act and different positions with his chin resting on intertwined fingers. Soap asked question after question about your limitations much to your horror.
Once the appointment was over and you two were safely confined into your flat again, his hands were on you before the door had even closed.
“You heard the doctor's orders, Mama.”
You laughed loudly at that, “I don’t think they’re doctor’s orders as much as yours!”
“Then listen to your sergeant and let him take care of you”
“Yes, sir.” 
Johnny was constantly stumbling over himself to try and help you with chores through the pregnancy. You move to wash a dish and he’s hopping up from the couch to plush the sponge from your hand before you’ve even wet it.
“I’ve got that love,” He constantly says, trying to herd you towards the couch, “Don’ even worry about it.”
You’d still hover each time, ensuring that he completed the chores to your satisfaction.
“Johnny! The yellow rags are for dusting! Not wiping up!” You fussed.
“It doesn’t matter! They all go in the wash the same!”
“It does matter! They’re color-coded so that they stay cleaner and we don’t go through so many!”
“Johnny,” You waddle into the bedroom one morning after getting up to get a cup of tea, “It’s time.”
“Time?” The tired man pulled his head up from where he’d buried it into his pillow, “Lass, is still early, come back to bed.”
“Johnny the baby’s not going to be born in the same bed it was conceived in.”
“Yer not due for weeks yet lass, she won’t be.”
“There’s a puddle in the kitchen that says otherwise.”
“A puddle?”
“Johnny, my water broke.”
He jerks his head up from the pillow, “It’s time?”
“Yes, Johnny, I have the bag, I just need you to get dressed and drive.”
He stumbles out of bed and shoves his legs into yesterday’s jeans from where they lay on the floor, he’s nearly to the door before you hold up a hand, “Shirt, Johnny, you’re going to the hospital. You need to put on a shirt.”
He looks down at his bare chest, “Shirt? Shirt,” He turns on his heel and scoops up yesterday’s shirt too before returning to you.
“Shoe’s, Johnny.”
Johnny grabs a pair of slides from the closet and you finally let him through, happy that he’s finally presentable for your daughter’s birth.
Johnny ends up pacing the room while you rest in the hospital bed, flipping through channels on the wall-mounted television, “Thought you said it was time lass.”
“It is,” you flip past game show, news, game show, soap opera.
“Then where is she? We've been here hours now.”
“They don’t just slide out, the body has to prepare itself to squeeze out a daughter who probably has as big a head as her daddy,” He doesn’t notice your insult, instead rubbing his hands over the stubble he hadn’t gotten to shave.
When Johnny see’s the baby crown, he faints.
Your big strong army man who had been through war and back fainted at the sight of his daughter entering the world and had to be woken up by an attending nurse, “Sir, you’re going to want to wake up, your baby’s coming now.”
He ends up on wobbly feet, deposited by the head of the bed this time where he surely won’t see anything to make him faint.
After the baby’s born he makes you promise that you won’t tell anyone on his team, particularly Ghost.
“I’ll never hear the end of it,” Soap begs, “L.t. would make it known base-wide before the day is out.”
You roll your eyes, “You don’t give Simon enough credit, he’s nothing but a gentleman to me.”
“Ya only say that because he hasn’t made you run drills! He’s a right mean bastard to me!”
Soap brings the baby on base to meet the 141 at your request after moaning that you didn’t want his team to see you when you were wearing mesh panties even if you were wearing pants over them. Soap loudly announced his arrival, depositing the large carrier onto the table in the briefing room.
“Here she is,” he coos at the baby in her carseat, pulling the blanket covering her off the carrier, “The latest addition to the Mactavish clan.”
“She’s so tiny!” Gaz can’t help but note, leaning forward. 
“Didn’ think you actually had the balls to make one of them,” Ghost starts.
“How’s the missus doing?” Price asks, leaning forward to offer his finger to the bundle who takes it and grasps it.
“Sore as all hell and still mad abou’ it,” Soap bemoans, “Keeps telling me about the frozen pads she’s wearing and that it’s my fault!”
“Frozen pads?” Gaz frowns at him, finally taking his eyes off the baby.
“Aye, the lass has cleared out half the freezer so her unmentionables can be kept below thirty two degrees at all times.”
“You’re in a hell of your own making Soap, she’ll be right as rain before long and yelling at you for something else you’ve done.”
“Hope you learned to wrap it for next time, Soap,” Gaz this time.
“The poor bastard came out of the womb as dumb as this and he’ll return the same way, he’ll have another baby before this one’s out of diapers.
After the baby’s born, he takes you and her on a flight to visit the Mactavish clan. He insists on holding the baby through the flight so you could nap. He also falls asleep with the baby in his arms and his head laying on your shoulder.
His sister’s crowd around you before you can even take your shoes off when you enter the house.
The energy in the Mactavish house is the same as Soap’s when he’s first off deployment and wired, full of energy and yelling. You silently send a thanks up to heaven that the baby was already awake and well-rested as there likely would be no keeping this family quiet.
Johnny’s mother fussed over you, smoothing your hair and holding your hand, apologizing already for something her son did.
“Ma!”
“Don’ ‘Ma’ me! You gave me hell growing up, I have to make sure you’re treating her well!”
Baby Mactavish grows to be a whirlwind like her father, constantly getting into cabinets you swore you baby-proofed, leaving piles of tupperware scattered on the kitchen floor.
“Sergeant John Mactavish if you don’t come get your daughter this second!” You yell into the house while you fight against your daughter’s grip of steel on the plastic spatula.
He skids into the kitchen and scoops up the baby, turning her over in the air and using the element of surprise to snatch the utensil from her chubby hands.
“Ah, dinnae be so mean to the bairn lass, she’s jus’ explorin’,” he continues turning her over and over until she’s weak with giggles.
True to his word, Johnny gets you pregnant within a year after you're medically cleared. This time a second and third baby on the way. At once. When you learned of the split embryo at the ultrasound you scowled at Johnny, “Now see what you’ve done, John Mactavish!”
“Ah promised it to you, remember,” He took your hand in his and planted kisses on the back, ignorant of the ultrasound tech pointedly keeping their eyes on the screen, “Toldja we’d have a house-full when we first started dating.”
“I didn’t think you meant two at once!”
Not to mention the dogs that lingered on the stoop. Or the barn cats that hung around the outbuildings. The highland cows that Johnny had begged you for. The donkeys that he rescued from a feedlot. None of them were in the plan. Mactavish, the devil he is, ruins all your plans.
a/n: reblogs/comments are most appreciated but i cherish every like too, someone please talk more about this to me
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