#(let them be pen pals when he leaves)

[sage-nebula]

Notes: I've been replaying Night in the Woods and I'm unable to get this little crossover idea out of my head. Set after Sonic Frontiers and after the main storyline of Night in the Woods, and slight AU where Tails is 11 or 12 instead of 8, so he can be closer in age to Lori, who is canonically 14 (I want him to have a friend closer to his own age). The idea here is that Tails has happened upon the tiny town of Possum Springs in his travels, and for some reason or another decides to crash there for a while, both literally and figuratively. For those who haven't played Night in the Woods, all you have to know is that Lori is a 14yo mouse who loves horror movies and lives out by the train tracks, on Chestnut Street.

- - -

It was weird, how peaceful and comforting just lying in the dirt could be. Tails stretched his legs out, letting his heels thump against the metal rail of the train tracks, and a similar thump from behind him told him Lori had done the same on the other side. They stretched out between the two sets of tracks, facing opposite directions, their heads next to each other. The sky above was grey and thick with clouds. Every now and again, a drop of rain fell and splattered against Tails’ forehead. For some reason, he didn’t mind much.

“I like going to sleep out here sometimes,” Lori said. Tails tilted his head to look at her, but she was staring up at the sky above. He tilted his head back to do the same. “The excitement of the trains rushing by makes it easier to sleep. I just pretend like I’m homeless, and go to sleep.”

“I was homeless once,” Tails said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, for a few years when I was little. My brother and I just . . . wandered around.” And fought badniks and Eggman’s mechas and— “It took a few years for us to get my first workshop.”

“And then you lived in a workshop?”

“It has a house area too, with a bed and a kitchen and stuff. But I really wanted a place to be able to store my tools and work on my inventions, and we needed a hangar to keep the Tornado out of the rain so she wouldn’t rust.”

“I thought your plane was called the Cyclone?”

“Mine is. Sonic’s is the Tornado. She’s back home, unless he took her out recently.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

The ground rumbled, the vibrations cruising up Tails’ spine and through his ribs, and he pulled his feet off the tracks. Moments later a train rushed down them, and from the gust of wind that kicked up behind him, he knew one was passing by on the other side of his head, too. It took a few minutes, but when the train passed, both Tails and Lori stretched their legs out again, letting their feet clatter against the train tracks.

“Was it hard?” Lori asked after a moment.

“Was what hard?”

“Being homeless. I’ve always wondered what it was like. You know, when I’m laying out here sleeping.”

“Not really? I was really little, so I didn’t do too much. Sonic took care of everything; I just followed him.” Because even back then, he was a follower. He just tagged along, not a thought or care in the world about the burden he was imposing on Sonic by doing so. Sonic had never complained—at least, not to Tails directly. But then, he wouldn’t, would he? Even though he had only been eleven himself. Even though they’d had to hustle pool to get enough money for food, something Tails had thought had been fun at the time, although it must’ve been stressful for Sonic, far more than just caring for himself had been. Tails laid his arms across the coiling guilt in his stomach, and closed his eyes as a raindrop splattered against his forehead. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Why did you?”

Tails shrugged, as best he could while still lying on the ground. “It was just . . . better than where I was, I guess. And I wanted things to be better. I wanted to be better.” And he still did, and still wasn’t.

“It was better being homeless?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your parents?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Oh.” A beat of silence, then, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be prying. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Tails pushed himself up on his elbows to look over at her, but Lori was very determinedly not looking at him, staring up at the sky as she took in shallow breaths. “I don’t mind, it’s fine. They disappeared a long time ago. I don’t even remember what they looked like. It’s okay. Okay?”

“Mm.” Lori gulped down a few more breaths of anxious air, still not looking at him, her whiskers twitching as her fingers toyed with the zipper on her jacket. Tails laid back down, figuring it was probably better to let Lori calm down on her own, rather than try to force her to.

It never helped when people tried to badger him out of panic attacks, after all.

The ground rumbled beneath them again, and as one they pulled their feet back from the tracks. The wind that gusted over them was nice; it ruffled through Tails’ fur not unlike the wind that teased it when Sonic sprinted past, although thinking of that made a bittersweet pang take root in his chest. He pushed it away.

When the trains passed, and they had their feet on the tracks again, Lori spoke again. “My mom’s gone, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My dad’s still here, though. When he hasn’t been drinking.”

Tails frowned. “That’s . . . not great.”

“No. But it means I can go wherever I want, at least. That’s kinda cool.”

“I guess.” Tails scuffed the heel of his shoe against the rail of the train tracks. “Is there anywhere you want to go? Away from Possum Springs, I mean. I could take you in the Cyclone.”

“I’ve got school tomorrow.”

“We could be back by tomorrow.”

Lori hummed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.”

Comfortable silence fell again. Tails could hear birds twittering in the trees nearby, and the distant woosh of cars driving down the street.

“What about you?” Lori asked. “Where do you want to go after this? Back home?”

“No,” Tails said, even as he had to swallow against the yearning he felt to fall asleep to the sound of the Mystic Ruins waterfall, or the comforting smell of metal and oil from his workshop. “Not yet.”

“When, do you think?”

“I don’t know.” When I’m better.

“Hm. Well.” Lori shifted, and when Tails looked over he saw that she was looking at him from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s cool if you want to hang out here for a while. It’s nice to have someone to talk to when Mae’s busy.”

“Yeah.” Tails smiled a little, despite himself. “You’re fun to hang out with.”

Lori grinned, and pulled her feet back off the tracks. Tails did the same, and they watched the trains rush by on either side of them.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With an uncertain future, Bradley gets ready to leave for Virginia. But he works on a plan to make sure you understand just how much he will be thinking about you.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley felt sick to his stomach as soon as he saw the stationery set. At this point, the only thing on his mind was quitting his job so the two of you didn't have to be separated. The paper looked expensive; he would have loved to sit in his bunk and write line after line to you and your class, but he wouldn't be able to do that at all. 

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered, your hand coming to rest on his thigh, giving him a little squeeze. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

He felt guilty even though he had no control over the scenario. His heart hurt with loneliness already as he set the gift you gave him on the coffee table and buried his face in his hands. "Gorgeous. That's not gonna happen." He swallowed past the lump in his throat and turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm confused," you said, hand still on his leg. He covered your fingers with his rougher ones and pulled gently until you climbed onto his lap. 

"Oh, god," he groaned, giving you a kiss before linking his fingers with yours. "I love that set of note cards. I would have taken them with me everywhere during my free time, and I would have written to your class constantly. And you would have been the recipient of some rambling love notes to be sure." Your brow was still creased with concern as he said, "No outside communication. For seven weeks."

Your expression went slack as a single tear rolled down your cheek. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley held onto your fingers as you whispered, "This keeps getting worse," through more tears. Your broken voice made his chest ache as you leaned closer until your cheek was resting on his shoulder. "I could go ages without you in person, but if I can't talk to you at all... Bradley."

Nobody else ever loved him the way you did. He'd be miserable without your letters, emails, dirty pictures and pretty face over video calls, but he finally had someone who would miss him equally. 

"I know," he muttered, wrapping his arms around you. "It's seven weeks of nothing."

You were crying in earnest now as you clung to him. "Nothing," you sobbed. "I won't even know if I'm supposed to collect you in San Diego or Norfolk when your deployment ends. And I won't know where you're being stationed."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Gorgeous, when I tell you that nobody would have much cared where I ended up before I met you, I mean it." He kissed you as you snuggled tighter against him. "As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll let you know."

"Seriously," you murmured, voice shaky. "You better tell me as soon as possible if it's San Diego or Norfolk in my future."

Bradley didn't know what else to say besides, "I fucking love you." He smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks as he added, "Are you really going to fly out to Norfolk and collect me if they make me stay in Virginia?"

You pulled away from him, eyes puffy with a scandalized look on your face as you said, "Of course. What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?"

The kind he was going to upgrade to his wife.

-----------------------------

When you finally stopped crying, you were on the verge of a migraine, but you felt a bit calmer. Bradley got up to gather together some Advil, a glass of water, and a small gift wrapped in hideous paper.

"Your early Christmas present," he said, handing it to you after you swallowed two pills for your headache. "Well, it's actually kind of another gift for me, when you really think about it." He dropped down onto the couch again with his arm slung around your shoulders, and unlike him, you tore into the paper. Inside was a leather journal with little hand painted airplanes all over it. "Will you write in it every day so I can read it when I see you again?"

When you opened it to the first page, he had written you a note.

Gorgeous, I miss you with my whole heart. I can't wait to read about all of your adventures when I get home to you. Love, Bradley

"Yes," you whispered, closing it again so you could wrap your arms around his waist. "It'll just be a bunch of pages of me telling you how I argued with Jayden about his sloppy handwriting and how I asked Nia a hundred times to return to her seat. But yes, I'll write in it every day for you."

"I will eat up every page."

After that, he kept you by his side for the rest of the night. Even when you tried to dig around in the refrigerator to see if there was any food left, he was grabbing for you and kissing you. "You have no food," you said with a laugh, turning to face him. "What are we eating for dinner?"

"Hadn't thought that far," he muttered against your lips. "Just want you."

You took his face in your hands and ran your thumb along his scars. "If you don't eat, you'll get cranky. And you've got aircraft carrier food in your future."

Bradley grimaced and muttered, "Cabbage rolls," as he reached for his phone. "Let's get pizza today. And then maybe I'll try to talk the hostess at Salvatore's into letting us get takeout tomorrow. Then Thai on Christmas."

"And then you'll be gone," you whispered, dreading it all over again. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

"You're stuck with me, Gorgeous," he said, voice tinged with the tiniest bit of apprehension.

"I am." You kissed him before you said, "Pizza sounds perfect. Then I can help you pack a little more."

---------------------------

The last thing Bradley wanted to do was finish packing his duffle, but every time you looked up at him, eyes full of emotion, he was struck by several things. One, you really were so good at folding up his uniform components, something he noticed a few days ago. Two, every minute or so, you wrapped your arms around him, which made leaving with uncertainty so much harder. And three, you were absolutely nothing like Vanessa. 

Last time when he packed to leave, he was treated to her incessant whining over the fact that he didn't want to take her out to dinner. She was always annoyed with him wanting a quiet night in. She was always annoyed by his job. It was so obvious that she never missed him or loved him the way you did as he watched you carefully fold one of his flight suits before tucking it in his bag. 

"Gorgeous," he murmured, and as soon as your gaze met his, you had your arms wrapped around him again.

"That's enough for the night," you whispered, voice thick with emotion as he kissed the top of your head. Your face was pressed against his chest, and he could hear you trying to keep yourself calm. And god, he hated doing this to both of you. 

"I agree," he replied, keeping you close while he tossed a few novels he'd been meaning to read in as well. He'd have plenty of time to read a whole stack.

You wiped your eyes on his shirt as you said, "Make sure you read at night and stay away from all the women."

Bradley tipped your chin up so you were looking at him again. "Surely you're not worried about that." You shook your head. "Good. But now that we're on the topic... be a good girl and don't talk to horny assholes."

You started laughing as you slipped out of his grasp, wiping at your tears as you said, "Never. Now let me add one more thing to your bag." As you disappeared from the bedroom, Bradley put his bag on the top of his dresser. If he had time, he would move some of his clothing around so you had room for your things when your lease was up. Otherwise you were going to have to fend for yourself in his house and just make decisions for him. If he just had more time with you, everything would be easier. The one promising thing would be returning in time for Valentine's Day and Career Day at your school. If he was allowed to come back to San Diego at all.

"Fuck," he groaned, hating this unsettled feeling that was expanding in his chest, but as soon as you walked back in, he started to feel better. Seven weeks without you was going to be painful when he had such a visceral reaction to your touch and your words.

"Just in case you feel like jotting down your own thoughts every day for me to read," you said before tucking the stationery kit in next to his uniforms. You slid a large envelope that looked like it was bursting at the seams inside as well and simply said, "Some more reading material for you," before pulling him toward the bed.

And that's when Bradley figured out just how to make you feel a little less alone when he was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

-------------------------

When you opened your eyes on Christmas Eve, you were already smiling. Your body was warm and tucked up against Bradley's, his big, heavy arm draped over you as he snored softly. You wanted to stay here and not move a muscle, because right now, everything was perfect. You could pretend like his duffle bag wasn't sitting on his dresser, mostly packed and ready to go. You could melt into the sweet ache deep inside from the hour he spent loving your body last night. You could close your eyes and go back to sleep.

Bradley's phone vibrated on his nightstand, and he groaned next to your ear. "Baby," he murmured, lips grazing your neck. "Don't get up yet."

You couldn't help but smile. "Your phone is vibrating. Not mine."

"Shit," he grunted, rolling away from you. Once he looked at his phone screen he seemed to wake up. "Nat's on her way to pick you up for girls' day."

"What are you talking about?"

You definitely hadn't planned a girls' day. Why would you want to miss out on any time with Bradley right now? You could have a day with Nat next week or next month when he was gone!

He had a little smile on his face as he pulled you close again for a kiss. "You better get dressed."

"Bradley! I'm not going out with Nat. You're leaving in two days!"

Naked and spectacular, he climbed out of bed and stretched. "Just for a bit. She wants to take you to get coffee, and if she tries to get me a Christmas present, I need you to make sure it doesn't suck." 

"You planned this," you said, annoyed as he reached for you, pulling you away from the bed where you could pretend there was no scary uncertainty in your future.

"Just trust me," he whispered, holding you close. "Besides, I need some time to sweet talk someone at Salvatore's into letting me order dinner to-go."

You could handle an hour or two with his best friend while you counted down the time you had left before his flight out of San Diego. "Fine, but I'm wearing your sweatshirt, and I'll be thinking about you the whole time."

Bradley sent you down the walkway with a kiss, and he waved from the front door in just his underwear as you climbed into his best friend's car. "I won't keep you out too long," Natasha promised with a smirk. "I can already tell you want to get back to him."

"Why did he plan this?" you asked, wanting the answers he wouldn't give you while trying not to be rude. "No offense, because I would love to spend an entire girls' day with you, but why today?"

She simply turned up the Christmas songs on the radio and headed toward Starbucks with a smile on her face. "I was thinking after coffee we could hit up the mall for a few minutes? I need to find something truly awful to get for Bradley. I'm thinking some pink running shorts to match mine. High visibility colors are very important when you're out running, and I just don't think he fully appreciates that."

You laughed. "If you buy them, he'll probably just wear them to try to embarrass you."

"I don't embarrass easily," she said smoothly with a devilish grin. "And dare I say you might like to pick out a little something that you could wear as a going away treat?"

"Wear?" you asked before you quite knew what she meant.

"Sure. I mean, I don't want to know any specifics about what the two of you get up to, because gross, but deployments are long and lonely, and you're definitely going to miss each other."

While Bradley had seen all of your cutest underwear at this point, you'd never worn anything that you bought specifically with him in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you thought about it. Truthfully you didn't even own anything terribly sexy. 

"What would he even like?" you asked softly as she pulled into the Starbucks parking lot.

"On you?" she asked with a laugh. "Anything. Don't worry, we'll find something good."

------------------------

When Natasha texted to inform him that you were on your way back to his house, Bradley quickly hid everything that had been out on his coffee table while he juggled his phone. The woman he was talking to on speakerphone wasn't falling for his lines at all.

"Listen," he told her, making sure there was no visible evidence of what he'd done in his living room. "I just really want tonight to be special for my girlfriend and I before I leave for my next deployment. Just one order of spaghetti and meatballs? That's all I'm asking."

There was a deep sigh followed by, "Be here promptly at 5:00 to pick it up. I'll take your credit card over the phone."

"Perfect," he replied with a smile, digging for his wallet. "The name is Bradley Bradshaw."

You walked in with shopping bags in your arms, and rushed toward him as he finished giving his credit card security code, and he pulled you in for a hug as he reassured the hostess from Salvatore's that he would be there at 5:00.

"Hi," he said, kissing you after he ended the call. "Did you have fun with Nat?

"So much fun," you told him with a smile. "We're going to try out a wine bar next week up in Oceanside." The idea of you hanging out with his friend while he was away made him feel calm, especially since Nat knew how important you were to him. "Also," you said, pressing your lips together nervously, "I think I'd like to sleep here for the rest of my winter break." Your volume dropped to a whisper. "I'm not sure if it will make me miss you more or less, but I want to be here if that's okay with you."

"I love that, Gorgeous," he replied easily. Hanging out with Natasha and then returning to his house where you belonged anyway felt right to him. "Knowing you're sleeping in my bed might result in some dirty notes from me," he said with a laugh as you bit your lip.

"Please," you whispered. "Yes. Write me dirty notes to read when you get back." Just when he was about to kiss you, he watched you bend and rummage around in a bag. "Also, this is your gift from Natasha." You handed him some bright pink fabric that he turned around in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. "And she told me to hold up the gift receipt for you."

When he finally figured out that it was a pair of ladies running shorts, he grimaced. "She's so annoying," he groaned, reaching for the gift receipt, but you quickly chuckled and tore it up. "What are you doing?"

"You're not allowed to return them." You dropped the bits of paper, and he tossed the shorts onto the couch.

"Whose side are you on here?" he asked, peppering your face with kisses. "Don't think for a second I won't just put a jock strap on and run in those shorts."

"I tried to tell her you would," you laughed as he scooped you up. "I kind of want to see it."

"Play your cards right," he murmured, grabbing his keys and taking you out to his Bronco. "Let's pick up dinner."

------------------------------

Your belly was full of spaghetti and meatballs when you managed to sneak away to the tiny laundry room and quickly hand wash your new bra and thong set while Bradley loaded the dishwasher. Nat assured you that he would enjoy this tiny thing, and you were trusting her here. You set both items aside to dry before walking back out to the kitchen.

"You don't have a Christmas tree," you remarked, wishing you'd picked one up today from one of the many parking lots trying to unload them at the last minute.

"I told you I don't really celebrate holidays."

"You're doing a great job of celebrating this one."

He washed his hands and tossed the towel aside. It was barely seven o'clock, but he asked, "You feel like calling it an early night?" You agreed, ready to feel his warmth along your entire body as you fell asleep.

You got undressed and climbed in bed, and he did the same. Bradley's hands were everywhere, but his lips were gentle on your neck and shoulder as he whispered your name. "I love you. It's going to kill me inside when I can't talk to my favorite pen pal. Last time, you had my heart pounding every time you sent me a new email."

Tears stung your eyes in the darkness; you'd done a pretty good job of holding it together all day, but this was going to be your undoing. "I promise, every time you think about me, I'll already be thinking about you, too."

Bradley's arm tightened around you, his thumb stroking your skin, soothing you along with his sweet words as you fell asleep.

When you woke up on Christmas Day, his body was still right behind yours where he belonged, but when you rolled over to look at his handsome face, you knew the hours were going to go by too quickly. "Morning, Gorgeous," he murmured, voice raspy from sleep as he cracked his eyes open. "Let's go see what Santa brought."

You didn't have any other gifts for him, unless you counted your new lingerie which you were saving for later after dinner. And the printer you bought so he could have some photos of you without his phone on the aircraft carrier. But when you got out to the living room, there was an envelope on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked cautiously as you picked it up. But your heart melted immediately. It was a gift card for the wine bar in Oceanside.

"There's enough on there for you and Nat to take a few trips up if you like the place."

"The two of you have been plotting, I see," you remarked, taking a deep breath before snuggling up against his chest. "But nothing will beat the horribly expensive bottle of wine I accidentally made you buy on our second date."

Deep laughter rumbled through Bradley's chest as he said, "The look on your face just made me love you more." You groaned thinking about it. "Come on, we've only got one day left and then seven weeks of nothing. Let's make French toast and have sex on the couch and eat Thai food and watch movies."

You wore his sweatshirt around all day, licked maple syrup from his lip and rode him until he was whining for you. The Thai noodles went perfectly with Home Alone. Then you took a shower together and deep conditioned his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp until his eyes closed.

"I'm going to miss this," he whispered after every single thing you did. When you toweled his hair dry, he looked at you with so much emotion. "I'm going to call you as soon as I know what's going on with the Pacific versus Atlantic Fleet. And either way, I'll try to be as patient as I possibly can, but I can't live without you, Baby."

"Bradley."

"Shit. Even the way you say my name makes me ache."

"I want you here with me. I already hate this." A sob escaped your lips without warning. "I want you to come back for Career Day."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he said, "I will be here for Career Day no matter what. Disappointing you is bad enough, but I don't want the eighteen kiddos to miss out on spending the day with their favorite Naval officer."

You laughed. "You're not disappointing me, Bradley. This is just hard, because I love you so much."

If you couldn't see a future with him, this would have been easier. He set you down on the bathroom vanity, and you watched him carefully shave around his mustache, kissing you randomly so you had to wipe shaving cream from your nose, and then he started collecting his toiletries for his duffle bag. He was naked and perfect as you stayed huddled in your towel, wondering if you could even manage to pull off wearing the items that were surely dry now and draped over his laundry room sink.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you ducked past him toward the door.

"Meet me in bed."

You rushed down the hallway and threw your towel in the empty washing machine as you took a minute to touch the pretty lace fabric before sliding the thong up your legs. Next you hooked the bra in place, and it didn't matter if you didn't look perfect, because you felt good. And you wanted him to have this memory.

When you cautiously strolled into the bedroom, Bradley was still naked, laying on top of the bedding, looking at a small piece of paper. "I'm just double checking my packing list, and I..." His gaze shifted to your body, and you did a little turn for him. The paper drifted to the floor as he sat up, his hand coming to rest on his cock. "Come here."

Biting your lip, you did as you were told. Bradley's feet swung over the edge of the bed, coming to rest on the floor as his cock bobbed between his thick thighs. "Here I am," you whispered, standing between his knees with your hands on his shoulders. "Your going away gift."

One strong arm wrapped around you, and you squeaked as he pulled you flush against him. He kissed the rounded tops of your breasts above your new bra, one after the other before looking up at you. "What did I do to deserve this?" he rasped, his nose running along the lace as his fingers tangled in your thong.

Already so turned on, you tried to answer him twice before words came out. "I wanted to give you a proper send off. Something extra special." Then he kissed your furled nipples through the flimsy bra cups and you moaned, "Something to think about when you're lonely."

His fingers were digging into your butt as he grunted. His wide brown eyes were fixed on your face as he parted his lips and sucked on your breast, the black lace wet everywhere now. He was being a little rough, but it felt like he was worshipping you at the same time, and when his lip found your neck, he asked, "Is this little getup new?"

"I bought it yesterday," you gasped as his fingers slipped inside your thong, stroking your wet pussy. "Just for you."

Then you were on your back with your head on the pillow, Bradley's heavy cock resting against your thigh as he hovered over you. "Just for me, huh?" he grunted, biceps flexed as he fought to keep his breathing under control.

You nodded, running your toes up along his calf and thigh until your leg was hooked around his hip, ready to give him whatever he wanted. "Of course it's just for you. I'll wear it again when we meet back in the San Diego airport or in Norfolk. And I'll wear it when you're away and I'm touching myself."

"Fuck," he growled, pulling your panties to the side and running his cock through your wetness before pushing himself so deep inside you that it took your breath away. When you whimpered, his lips crashed against yours as his hands dug beneath you to unhook your bra. "Touch yourself right now." When the flimsy lace ended up on the floor while Bradley fucked you, he guided your right hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before placing them on your breast. "I want to watch."

Bradley's pupils were wide, lips parted. When you looked down your body as his cock disappeared inside you over and over again, you felt even more turned on. When you ran your fingers along your nipple and up between your bouncing breasts, his eyes followed your every move. "Like this?" you asked, feeling bold as you added your left hand as well.

He gave you a harder thrust. "Exactly like that, Gorgeous. And what are you going to think about when you do?"

"My boyfriend," you managed before his mouth met yours in a deep kiss that only lasted a few seconds. "I'm going to think about my boyfriend. I'll miss you so much."

-----------------------------

Bradley's hips slowed to a gentler pace as he listened to you gasping and panting beneath him. There was no way you'd miss him as much as he'd miss you. He closed his eyes and thought about returning home to your arms in seven weeks and heading back to work in the Pacific Fleet. He hoped you'd appreciate the little surprises he was leaving behind for you. More than anything he wanted you to think about tonight when you got yourself off.

His rough excitement at you in the new lingerie melted into something sweeter as he fucked you with long, languid strokes. Your lips were on his neck and collarbones as he whispered how much he loved you over and over. When you came, it escalated quickly, sudden and loud as he ran his thumb across your clip. He couldn't hold on after that, and he let your body hold him in place with soft squeezes as he caught his breath.

"I have one more thing for you to pack," you whispered, voice ragged as you ran your fingers through his hair.

"I really hope you fit in my duffle," he mused, and you laughed softly.

You kissed his ear and whispered, "I bought a small photo printer since you won't be able to use your phone." He shivered at your words. "You can print out a photo or two of us together... or maybe you want to take a new one right now to print out?"

"Jesus," he grunted, kissing your lips. "You're spoiling me." He reached for his phone on the nightstand and snapped a few pictures of your fucked out face and your body with his cock still buried deep. "I am very spoiled."

When you stood and plugged in the printer with lips puffy from his mustache in just your thong, he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had his photo gallery open on his phone and his arm around your waist as he selected the picture you sent him ages ago with the sun setting behind you. "This one is an absolute necessity. So is this one of us together. I don't think I should take any with me where you're naked, just to be safe," he mused, and you threw your arms around him.

"You'll just have to use your imagination," you told him as the photos printed.

"That'll be easy with this fresh in my mind," he murmured, looking down at your tits pressed to his chest. "I'll be thinking about you nonstop."

Bradley's hold on your body was unrelenting as he dropped the photos into his duffle and led you back to bed. It was getting late, and his flight to Virginia was early. You snuggled up on his chest with a soft smile on your lips. "I hope you do. I hope you think about me constantly and write me notes."

He kissed your forehead. "Not just you... your whole class. Have to keep them interested in aviation. But you're my favorite pen pal."

You laughed and buried your face against his neck, and he could feel your breathing grow a little more ragged as you whispered, "I love you so much. Just be safe. I don't really care if we have to figure out long distance or relocation as long as you're safe, Bradley."

That's how he fell asleep, wrapped up in your arms with your sweet sentiments in his ear. And the next morning, when his alarm went off, he welcomed your tears, because they made him feel like he was important to a woman for the first time in his life. You cried softly as you sat on his lap and went over his packing list with him one more time, and your cheeks were wet as you kissed him.

Bradley let you button up his khaki uniform shirt for him, your fingers shaking as you smoothed down the fabric along his chest. "Thank you, Gorgeous," he whispered, watching helplessly as your face crumbled into more tears.

When he drove the Bronco to the airport, your fingers were linked with his in the silence as the light from the rising sun hit the buildings downtown, promising to bring another perfect day to southern California. His hand tightened around yours, knowing he was going to be flying into so much uncertainty. His voice sounded strangled to his own ears as he parked at the curb under the signage for departing flights. "This is it. I'll text and call you as much as I can when I land before they lock me down, but this is it for seven weeks."

You crawled onto his lap, holding him tight as he kissed you, and now his tears mingled with yours. "I love you, Bradley," you promised, and he believed you as he held you in his arms and climbed down onto the pavement. He pulled his duffle from the backseat and dropped it to the curb as he held you against him, unwilling to leave before he told you a few more things.

"I'll keep myself safe, but you need to do the same. If you need something, you call Natasha right away, okay?" You nodded against him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "My stuff is your stuff, so do whatever you want at the house and with my Bronco. And tell me you love me every day in the journal so I can read about it when I see you."

"I will," you sobbed as he finally set you down. "And I'll be waiting to hear you tell me if it's San Diego or Norfolk."

He swiped your tears away from your cheeks and kissed you one last time before he picked up his bag and headed for the door. When he turned back one last time, you were clutching his car keys and crying. "I love you, Gorgeous."

----------------------------

We'll see how they manage apart. I think she might do a bit better than Bradley will. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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[stylespresleyhearted]

THE MAJOR’S WIFE

warnings: mentions of miscarriage, adultery, nsfw, marital problems, oral (m! receiving), spanking, being turned on even when your brain isn’t in it, bucky in 1x04, bucky married pre-war, slight age gap bc reader can come off slightly immature (i think?) angst, historical inaccuracies, new mediocre writer be nice

summary: John Egan gets to know his wife again

word count: 9.7k

notes: i’m not sure where this came from i wrote it all today and got no part of my research paper done. there’s really no point to it and also irl john egan was actually really close to his mother so i emphasized that here. he wrote to her so much. no disrespect to any of the real people, this is based on the show/show timeline as well.

Lila gets the call on the 2nd of October and her dreams come true.

Not entirely, no. The real dream would be having him home safe and the tragic war being over but she knows how fortunate she is to have the next best thing happen. Her husband’s been granted a few days leave and Colonel Harding believed it would do Major Egan some good to have his sweet, young wife join him during those days overseas. For the good of John’s mental health the Colonel or the President - or whoever was in charge, Lila really had no idea - had agreed to pay for her ticket and their hotel. There was only one thing they asked for in return and although it wasn’t explicitly said, Lila caught their drift: sort your husband out.

Lila knows it would do her no good to sit and wonder how horribly John must be doing in order for them to declare an all expenses paid trip for his spouse. All she does is worry for him anyhow so she forces herself to focus on the one good thing of the entire ordeal - she’s going to see her man.

There’d been letters, although not as many as she liked and she tried not to let it show how it hurt as every other wife received more than one letter at a time. Her John wasn’t the sort, she knew that when she married him. He was the kind of person who needed endless skies and land to maintain his sense of stability. Having him cooped up would do him no good and she partly wondered how much of what he was struggling with was the trauma he witnessed in the air and how much of it was feeling caged on base. At least his plane, good ol’ Mugwump (he wrote about her quite often) offered him the opportunity to head anywhere he wanted.

The only person he wrote consistently and readily to was his mother. It was rare if a week went by and she received no letter. During these instances it was more times than not an issue with the postal service.

Be that as it may, Lila knew who she married and it made her love him no less so she tried not to let it get to her. His mother was a saint. Firm and strong and loving all the same. Lila would have never survived sending John off if his mother wasn’t who and how she was. She held Lila at night when her cries woke her and she let Lila sleep in his old childhood bed. She kept food on their table and ensured everyone got their work done through the worry.

When John first left and Lila was sick to her stomach and vomiting multiple times of the day it was his mother who consoled her through the night when her sheets turned a crimson red and any ideals of having their baby through the war was lost.

Frances Egan was the glue holding them together. All of them, even her son who was an entire ocean way - so no. Lila would not be angry that she was John’s preferred pen-pal.

“You fix him right up,” Mama Egan had said in lieu of goodbye when leaving her at the airport, “you give him the loving he needs as his wife and the smacks he needs from me to get on the straight and narrow before sending him off to continue saving the world. You do it for him, not for any of them war bastards. You hear me?”

All Lila could do was nod. Dropping her bags on the floor and clutching her pseudo mother tightly. She was excited as she was frightened.

They had only gotten two months together before he had been pulled away. She didn’t want to complain, loads of women had gotten less time at all while others had only ever been left with the promise.

But her two months as Mrs. Egan? They’d been a dream. Her man was a romancer. He hadn’t hesitated in introducing her as the newly (and younger) Mrs. Egan, always resulting in an arm slap from his mother, he held open doors and he never stopped courting her; however she thinks the best times were when he was teaching her how to act married.

In their bed, at a home he had spent a year building for them. Using any extra pennies he had to pay off younger boys to help him hurry it along. Giving her the wrap-around porch she had always envisioned.

He showed her how to kiss. How to undress him. He had laid her underneath him, using his large frame to cover her completely, protecting her from the cold as he threw the sheets off them and making her feel tiny compared to him. She had never felt safer.

It had hurt the first time but he had held her through it. Never allowing any inches of space between their bodies; as if telling her they were in it together. She’d always known he was large, everything about him was large in general, but she never thought how much it would hurt to have all of him fit inside her. Lila hadn't wanted to disappoint him so she tried to muffle her tears and whimpers but he had swallowed her cries and gone slow, soft.

“If this is it, it’ll be enough,” he had promised, only about half way inside her and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. As a thank you she had taken that calloused thumb into her mouth and sucked. He allowed her; hiding his face in her neck and pressing wet kisses along there.

And for the first few times that had been it. She couldn’t take all of him and his thrusts couldn’t get too deep so he would only slip inside until her tight hole resisted and pulsed and he’d hump against that spot until reaching his pleasure.

“Do other girls take all of it?” She had asked a couple days later, trying to wrap her head around it.

She was no idiot. John Egan was no virgin.

“Yes.” Lila could always count on him to be honest. At least there was that. Meanwhile she couldn’t even fully pleasure him. She was failing as a wife. “Hey,” he lay facing her and she lay on her back. He tapped her cheek until she turned her face. “You’re my wife. That’s what makes this feel better.”

And she had beamed at his reassurance even though she didn’t feel much better. She knew John would never push her, and he couldn’t stand to see her cry, so if she ever wanted to learn to be a good wife she would have to take it upon herself.

So that’s what she did.

He was always on top and she was always on her back. That’s the first thing she had to change. From her understanding of it, from her talks with friends that always ended in giggles and blushing cheeks and from what she learned from John, it could be done in many different ways.

“I prefer to be in charge,” her school friend, Linda, had admitted to her. “Not like that -” she clarified, cheeks pink, “Just - if I’m gonna take it, I’d rather do it at my pace. Be on top. Some husbands are good like that. They’ll allow it.”

And knowing her husband wasn’t just good, he was great, she knew he would hold no qualms about it. The next time they lay in bed kissing it was easy to turn him over and straddle him. Move her wetness against his belly to let him know there was still more she just needed him to accept it.

Except he thought she was asking him to do it so he flipped her on her back again. And without breaking their kiss, she turned him over again.

It was more like they were wrestling.

Lila pulls away from his mouth, reluctantly, noticing his lips were wet and red and swollen and wondering if hers were much the same. They had been kissing for so long her mouth felt raw.

She loved it.

Straddling him, she reached behind her, feeling him standing straight and hard against her backside in between her cheeks. Sticky.

He gasped, bucking into her fist with a loud, guttural groan. It was so manly she rocked against his stomach again in need.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, “what’re you doing?”

“I want to try it like this,” she breathed, leaning over to whisper in his mouth, her tiny hand still wrapped around him and lining her up to her hole. “I want it all.” Lila clarified.

And John allowed it, like she knew he would. Let her take control and go at her pace. Let her swivel her hips on the way down to help with the tightness of being stretched so wide and thick.

Nothing but curses and promises of love leaving his lips. Gasping mine, mine, mine and my perfect fucking wife and I’m gonna fuck you forever.

He felt large inside of her, like if she was being split in two but it felt so good as the tip of him repeatedly hit a spongy part inside that had her coming with no contact to her clit for the first time.

She was beautiful, red splotches appearing on her body from the heat of their love-making, her hair tangled in his fists, her mouth falling open as she threw her head back - all of it was too much. He was flipping her over and pounding into her trying to chase his peak and a second one from her, their headboard banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.

Things changed from then on. Sexually, that is. Becoming aware of how badly she needed to feel like she was pleasing him, John was not above using it against her. Like letting him lick at her.

“Good wives allow their husbands everything,” he would say, lips wide in a smile and eyes bright at the prospect of getting his way but Lila always knew the choice was really hers. He would respect what she wanted.

He was just too damn addicting. She couldn’t stand to tell him no.

His favorite times were when she allowed him to sit her over his face and let him feast. It drowned the outside world for him and he kept at it even after she had reached multiple orgasms and was pulling on his hair and the only thing keeping her up was his forearms locking around her thighs.

Her favorite was when he allowed her to taste him at the same time he was licking her. It was a tie between those times and when he held her down until all of him was in her mouth and she was spluttering, choking, gagging. Knowing she made a filthy vision and he adored it did something to her.

Now she was in London, closer to him than she had been in years, and all their intimacies were within reach. She could almost taste him, feel him petting back her hair and settling a hand at the low of her back. She still remembers the smell of his after shave and sweat, how he’d come into the kitchen asking for some of her homemade lemonade to help with the heat.

Jack Kidd was tasked with picking up Mrs. Egan from the airport and having her arrive at base with him. She remembers meeting him a couple of times before John shipped out early. Originally she was meant to wait for John at their hotel but there had been an issue when planning her flight and she arrived sooner than intended.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, placing a friendly kiss on her cheeks and taking her bags from her. “Bucky’s gonna be happy as hell to see your face.”

The tone in his voice - relief? alleviation? - had some of her happy wife's facade crumbling. How badly was her Johnny hurting that everyone was looking at her at his only chance to remain sane or alive?

Stop it. Maybe everyone’s just aware Johnny misses you. You’re his wife.

“Not as happy as me, I wager,” she returned with a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, Jack. Glad to see you still kicking.”

His shrug didn’t soothe her worry but she saw him try to mask it with a smile.

“All we boys can do is pray.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, gathering his attention. “You boys have got the prayers of our entire country protecting you.”

Jack simply nodded in response.

For the most part the ride to base was quiet. Her bags would be kept in the trunk until her and John were ready to drive out to London in a couple of hours and until then, she’d be his surprise at the officer’s club. Silver Wings, Jack called it. Where all the boys gathered and had drinks and celebrated accomplishments. And where some chose to mourn, too.

Her stomach was turning as she neared the hut, following Jack’s footsteps. There was so much that could go wrong and although this was meant to be a surprise, the U.S Army showing their gratitude towards a brave Major, she suddenly wished she would have called John and told him. She wished he knew so that she wouldn’t have to walk in feeling alone and unwanted.

Not that Lila thought John would turn her away, she simply wanted to have him hold her hand as she walked through the threshold.

“Stick close by,” Jack murmured, being respectful of where he touched her before deciding to lead her by her shoulder. “It gets crowded but I’ll take ya to him.”

As she walked through different groups, she felt the offending eyes of men and women alike. Wondering who she was. With a pang in her heart she realized she had met John’s squadrons before but all these crews were new. The boys she met, most of them at least from what she could tell, hadn’t made it. John never wrote about who passed away (except to inform her of Curt) ; most of their letters were him expressing his love and how he missed her so and asking what she got up to.

Having walked around the roundabout bar in the center of the room, her stomach in knots and fingers tangled in front of her - she caught sight of her husband smack middle in the dance floor. Pressed against a beautiful brunette.

Lila caught sight of him before even Jack did. That’s how connected she was to her husband. Jack whistled from beside her to gain Gale’s attention who was resting against the bar holding his signature ginger ale, also watching John Egan chat up the woman he was swaying with with something like disapproval in his eyes.

His large hands were occupying most of the space of her waist, keeping her body tethered to his as she laughed.

“Lila,” he gasped, eyes wide. He was smart enough to not turn and look at his buddy. To act as if nothing was amiss and she expected nothing less from Gale Cleven, “damn it all to hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Egan.”

Because he was close to John, he didn’t hesitate in wrapping her up in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her tinted cheeks. He knew John wouldn’t mind.

When he pulled back she patted his chubby cheek in return, “You still shame the rest of us with your good looks, Gale,” she laughed. “I’ll let Marge know when I see her next.”

Lila also knew she would share with Marge that while Gale was being loyal, standing off to the side her husband was exchanging oxygen with a woman on the dance floor.

His cheeks tinted at the mention of his girl. Buck and Bucky were both aware Lila and Marge wrote to one another and visited each other whenever time made it possible.

“Colonel Harding said Major Egan was in need of something from home,” she said, studying his reaction to see what she could read but Gale had always been aloof, cold. He wasn’t close to her like he was with Marge and John.

Gale thought back to a few moments earlier when John had disrespected their Colonel and all his actions before that too - disrespecting superiors, drinking more consistently, becoming angry - hopelessness in his eyes.

“He’s in need of you Lila,” Gale clarified and it wasn’t lost on either one of them that he they were referring to was currently on the floor wooing another woman.

“Holy shit! It’s Mrs. Egan!” Hambone animatedly announced and suddenly it felt like the eyes of everyone in there were on her. Her cheeks tinted pink, never having been one for the spotlight like her husband.

She was greeted with welcoming cheers and hugs.

John, for his part, disentangled from the woman he was holding at the mention of his missus. He was sober enough to appear sheepish and guilty, but in the next second it was gone as he stalked towards her. Determined. Quick. His smile growing the more he neared like he was becoming more aware she was really there and it wasn’t a fucked up scenario in his head.

“God, Lila,” she managed to hear him say before she was elevated in the air, his arms tight around her waist and lifting her high so they were at face level and he could kiss her. Channeling his love and exuberance and aggression into kissing his wife. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s really you,” he was saying in between smooches, “I missed you. So fucking much, doll.”

Basking in his love she didn’t feel the need to mention the woman that was so kindly keeping him preoccupied before she entered.

She couldn’t help the first tear from falling or the rest from following. It was like the tightness in her chest unlocked as she finally got to hold him and feel his heat surround her. He still smelled of after shave and the same hair gel that was kept in their bathroom at home but he tasted strongly of whiskey and cigarettes and strawberry lipstick.

John tucked his face into her neck, setting her down and bending to her level. Sniffling in there as he continued to hold her.

“None of that,” she did her best to stop her voice from wobbling or breaking, “we’re together. That’s all that matters.” She drew his face out from where he had hidden to pepper him with a few more kisses.

None of it was enough.

The rest of the guys were kind enough to return to the dance floor and act like they couldn’t see them.

“Who? What - why? How?” He was obviously having trouble forming coherent thoughts in between the kisses he continued stealing from her.

She was crying and laughing and trying to return all his touches. It was a terribly difficult ordeal but she had never been happier.

“Colonel Harding called and said you had a weekend leave. He said he talked to some of the higher ups but they couldn’t allow you a leave home so this was the next best thing,” she explained, cupping his cheek as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. He had minor scars that weren’t there before.

She wanted to kiss every single one of them.

He was still bent towards her height, taking her in as she was taking him in.

She forgot how blue his eyes were.

He was whole. Complete. Hers.

“You’re here for the entire weekend?” He asked to confirm and she nodded, laughing when he lifted her again with a loud whoop to celebrate. That got a few of the guys to join in although they had no idea what their Major was celebrating.

“I need you,” his voice suddenly dropped, setting her down as he turned to the door. “Let’s go.” He was buckling up her coat to make sure she was protected from the freezing London air. She was lucky he was too far gone to scold her for arriving with it unbuckled in the first place - she could get sick.

“John, John - relax, my sweet man,” she laughed, cupping his cheek to get his attention. “We can stay for a while. We don’t have to go yet.”

It’s why she was at the officer’s club in the first place. She had arrived early.

John turned stiff in her hold, straightening to his full height as he suddenly loomed over her. “I’ve got you in my arms for the first time and you want to stay here?” His voice was tight. His face stern.

“Yes - no, I -” she was unsure of where she went wrong or how to fix it. She clasped his hands in hers but he didn’t allow her to thread their fingers together so it was just her holding on. “I just meant we’ve got time, John.”

The way he was looking at her made her want to cry. She felt her lower lip quivering.

She felt ashamed, whispering, trying to get him to keep his cool.

“Time? Time?” He laughed loudly. She was mildly aware of Gale breaking away from a group of guys to near them, worried but she was mostly focused on John. The tense lines on his face even as he laughed and the quirked eyebrow even though she found no amusement in their situation. “You think I’ve got time? You have no idea what it’s like up there.”

She shook her head but didn’t try to verbally explain herself. She wasn’t sure she could manage a few words before breaking into tears.

“Come on, Bucky,” that was Gale stepping in to save the day. Perhaps the only person who could get John to listen. “When have you ever left before dancing with your girl? You gotta show these rookies how it’s properly done right?”

With Gale slapping a hand to John’s shoulders, he seemed to snap out of it. Releasing a deep breath and seemingly all the tightness in body with it.

He leaned down again, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, clasping a hand around her neck so she wouldn’t pull her head back. As their eyes locked she felt a tear fall again and this one wasn’t happy. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. It’s this place. It’s fucking with my head.”

And she chose to believe him, nodding her head in understanding and trying not to think about how she wasn’t his preferred person to write letters to or the one who could clear his head.

Maybe the Colonel should have allowed a weekend pass for Gale and John.

Lila swallowed the thought, allowing John to pull her to the dance floor as he lost all anger and aggression and became charming and loving all over again.

“Everyone, this is my wife!” He bellowed and everyone cheered in response. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and -” he hiccuped and she realized he was drunker than she thought, “and I bet we can out dance any couples here tonight!”

So for the next hour she found herself being twirled around the dance floor by her husband. She almost forgot their prior negative interaction; his love and energy was so infectious. For the slow songs he would hold her close and she would rest her head against his chest, letting it lull her to a relaxing state. He was alive and she was with him. That had to be enough. For the more upbeat songs, he was challenging any couple beside them. Asking those sitting who were better dancers? Who could perform certain dance moves better?

And all throughout, he was like he used to be back home. Loud and happy and the center of attention, keeping everyone entertained. He kept announcing to his boys that his beautiful wife was there and then he’d place a wet kiss on her mouth that had their cheeks (and hers) turning red but all he would do is smile and continue on.

She was finally able to disentangle herself from him when Crosby pulled him in for a conversation. Lila wonders if her state of disheveled hair and panting breaths made him want to aid her in allowing her to sit and grab a refresher.

Once she accepts Crosby’s hug and cheek kiss, she excuses herself to go grab a drink. John only pulls her back once to steal a kiss before she gets too far.

Her lips might be bruised by the time they leave if he kept it up.

She orders a cup of ice water from the man tending the bar, looking back out at her husband as she waits. He’d always been tall and strong, but she notices the change in his posture. The bulges in his arms as he twirled her around and lifted her in the air. His eyes were only bright when he forced it. They had lost their shine and she wishes she brought the picture from back home. Where he looks young and full of life and joyful. Even when he smiles he seems hollow; hopeless.

She’s there but he doesn’t really care because in his head he’s already thinking of when she leaves again.

She wasn’t used to that. Her John only lived in the moment.

“He keepin’ you busy?”

Gale settles up behind her and pushes the glass water towards her. She didn’t even notice when it was put down.

“Dizzy, more like,” she jokes and gets him to crack a smile. She thinks to when she walked in and seen Gale, how he’d been watching the scene unfold but with a disapproving look in his eyes. How he didn’t try to hide the scene from her or excuse it. He let it be. And she knows John has never shied away from attention. He’s always been handsome and charming and girls always swarmed but Lila wasn’t aware she had to be around to keep him loyal. She thought he just was. And she knows it’s not too long before they leave now so she decides to be direct with him. “So, does that happen often?”

She sees Gale’s expression split for a second, like he debates playing dumb before deciding against it and she respects him even more for it.

“I think you should talk to John about it.” He decides on.

“Is it something that needs to be mentioned?” She doesn’t like playing this game with him but she knows at the first words of cheating and adultery Gale is going to excuse himself and her chance will be lost.

She can’t be simple and ask: Does my husband cheat on me?

“Another ginger ale, Marty,” Gale raises two fingers to grab the man’s attention and mutters a thanks as his drink is immediately refilled. He turns his attention back to Lila. “He still loves you, Lila. It’s just - hard. Being out here.”

“You seem to be coping fine.”

She feels bitter. Crazy. There’s a sob she has to choke back.

Lila’s too embarrassed to meet Gale’s gaze. Ashamed that everyone knows what’s been going on and she was the ditzy woman being twirled on the dance floor.

“I think I was used to loneliness. He isn’t.”

And he says nothing else as he leaves her behind heading back to his boys. It’s just Lila and her shattering heart and her husband calling to beckon her back to the dance floor.

Luckily they didn’t stay much longer. She walked over to Bucky but he wasn’t able to pull her back out for a dance - it’s my song, Lila! - because Jack Kidd was approaching, letting them know it was time to leave them at the train station.

Lila waited in the car while Bucky ran into his quarters to pack his bag. He didn’t have many things to take, he would be stuck wearing his uniform anyway. Gale walks him back out to the car and despite the earlier conversation Lila exits the safety of the interior to say her goodbyes.

“Take care of yourself, Major,” she squeezes him, “I need you to stick around after this weekend to look after my man.”

“It’s a hard job but I try,” he replies, both of them ignoring Bucky’s protests.

Besides that, Bucky’s quiet on the ride to the train station. He carries her bag on board but he’s quiet for the duration of the train ride. Lila doesn’t disturb him; he might be tired or hungover or both.

And if she’s honest she’s scared of him snapping at her like the night before.

Instead she takes the time to take him in. He’s handsome in his suit. Tall and big and strong, his sharp jaw and powerful mouth, his eyes blue like a sunny day and his curls coming undone from the gel after all the dancing he did.

Lila doesn’t allow her mind to wander down this path too often but suddenly she can’t help it. Would their baby have looked like him or like her? She wishes more than anything they would have had his ears. She wishes they would have had his heart and his strength - but her loyalty. Her faith in them.

It’s crazy when she stops to think she was nineteen when she married him and now she’s twenty-one. She’s loved him for more than she’s been allowed to have him. She has changed without him like he has without her and it’s frightening to think neither of them could be accepting of those changes. Whatever they may be.

Lila shuts those thoughts out, closing the distance between them to sit on his lap. Passerby’s and his horrible mood and what scares her could be damned to hell - all she wants is her man.

John doesn’t deny her; she admits she was a little scared he would.

“I love you,” she tells him, catching his eyes.

“I know.”

He doesn’t return the words as they continue staring at one another but she refuses to let it get her down. This is her husband. She has the rest of her life to get to know him; new or old habits, she doesn’t care.

So instead, Lila plasters a smile onto her face. “What’re you gonna show me first in London, Major?”

“Well I really wanna show you our hotel room,” he plays along, allowing her to trace the edges of his mustache. She lets out a knowing chortle. “And I really want to show you -” he cuts himself off to look around, making sure no one was near them as he leans in to whisper, “- my cock, Mrs. Egan.”

She turns a bright red, trying to sputter out a proper response for that but all she can do is indignantly scold him. “John Clarence! If your mom were here -” and they both break out in loud laughter at the many possibilities of what his mother would exactly do to him if she heard his wicked mouth.

“Wanna grab some grub first?” He asks instead, knowing she hadn’t eaten at the officers club and before then she had been stuck on a plane. “I know a few places.”

Lila nods happily, pressing a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and as plump as she remembers them. His mustache tickles her.

“Let me feed you first, woman!” He groans, trying to be a gentleman. “When’s the last time you ate?”

She puckers her lips to think about it and that’s the only answer he needs: food is definitely first.

When they arrive at the hotel John enters to check them in but he slips a few bills into the bell boy’s hand with strict instructions to leave the bags in their room before pulling her back out to the London streets.

Lila felt underdressed surrounded by women in diamonds and fancy hats, and it didn’t help that John was beside her in his uniform looking dapper and catching the eye of many. They were stopped multiple times on the way to the diner; men wanting to shake his hand and show their gratitude while the women introduced themselves, uncaring of Lila under his right arm.

As long as he wasn’t ignoring or dismissing her she realized she didn’t really care. It wasn’t much different back home; everyone knew and loved John Egan.

The diner he chose was small and cozy and his legs were too long to fit under their table so his boot and his knee kept bumping into her own and she adored it. She wanted to feel close to him and since sitting on his lap currently wasn’t an option she figured this would have to do.

He tells her many stories but none of them are sad or tragic. He only shares the happy ones. He talks about how he convinced the Colonel to allow Buck, Curt, and himself a London weekend pass one time and they had shoved Gale into a haberdashery where he tried on a multitude of top hats worth more money any of them would ever see combined. But because they were soldiers and majors at that, the owner allowed it. There’s a museum nearby he talks about wanting to take her too, it showcases art from as early as the 1400s and he says he’s gotten lost in there plenty of times and it was lovely.

All the while, she listens without hearing him. Choosing to take him in and letting her mind wander to how it would be if things were different. It pains her to think how much older he looks since she last saw him. Looking more like it was ten years instead of the measly two. John’s always been one to smile freely but the wrinkles by his mouth, eyes, and forehead aren’t from smiling or laughing too much.

Lila knows they’re from worrying and stressing and being scared and she hates that she can’t understand him or be there for him. No matter how hard he tries.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes when a sob breaks free. She curls in over the table and John’s reaching over to rub her shoulders. She grabs a hold of her hand in his. “I just missed you so much.” She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t think I know how to not miss you.”

John doesn’t say anything but he motions a server over to settle the bill and once that’s done, he’s taking her hand and pulling her out the chair.

“You got enough food in you?”

All she can do is nod.

Her body feels electric on the short walk back to the hotel. He doesn’t do more than hold her hand and she thinks that is what has her nerves jittery, his palm in her hand sets her alight. She can feel his rough skin and the calluses on his fingers and the fingertips he runs over her skin and she bites back a moan.

Moaning in the middle of a bustling London street? She’d be thrown into an asylum she’s sure.

Beside her he’s quiet but his steps are quick. She has to lightly jog to keep up with long strides. He pulls on her hand to help her keep pace. It makes her think he’s as impatient for it as she is so she was surprised when upon closing the hotel room behind him he stays by the door. Not nearing or touching or kissing.

Just - nothing.

Her throat becomes tight again as she remembers the girl from the night before and her conversation with Gale. Is that the reason why?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says before she can spiral any further. Approaching her and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss, wasting no time in sliding his tongue alongside hers.

“I love you,” she responds and once again he doesn’t say it back. She figured he wouldn’t but she wanted to try. He takes her mouth in his again.

She gets irrationally angry, suddenly feeling the need to claim him so she bites at his bottom lip. He pulls back to press a finger to his lip, wiping the blood there.

Lila pulls on his belt, dropping to her knees right there in the middle of the room.

Mine. He’s mine.

“Make me your wife again,” she’s not sure but it sounds like she’s begging as she manages to unbuckle his belt and pull them around his strong thighs.

“God,” he breathed, “fuck. Look at you.”

Swollen lips parted for him to put to use. John wrapped his fist around her long hair to maintain a good grip, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat. There was no resistance, no gag, her body remembering how it was taught to take all of him even though time had passed. John loved that fucking mouth and he found himself angry as thoughts entered his mind - if anyone had fucked her mouth while he’d been away - and he jerks his hips more forcefully. Rough.

This time Lila does gag. Her hand goes to push against his hip but he doesn’t allow her to pull away.

“Did anyone else do this?”

She splutters, eyes on him and confused with a mouthful of cock, unable to talk.

“Did you suck someone else’s cock? This is mine, Lila. Mine.”

He holds her down for a couple of more seconds before allowing her reprieve. She sputters and coughs, looking at him the entire time.

His dick is still hard and long, standing to attention, and he’s not sure whether he should apologize before she’s taking his bobbing dick back into her mouth. To the back of her throat and gulping and fondling his balls. Her nose kissing the coarse hairs on his belly trail and although it feels fucking amazing - he can feel the anger too. Her anger.

How dare he accuse her.

When she pulls off there’s a strand of saliva connecting his prick to her tongue. She has half a mind to go back for more but he’s pulling her back by her hair.

“I’m so lucky to have a wife who’s cock hungry,” he groans, pulling her to her feet by her hair and connecting their mouths in a rough kiss. Their teeths crash and tongues wrestly and he feels fucking crazy that she tastes like him. Simultaneously ripping each other’s clothes off.

Lila didn’t have any warning. One second she was kissing him and ripping open his shirt and the next she was bent over the bed with her ass in the air. John ran a finger over the wet patch on her underwear. The bite on her cheek was also unexpected and she clawed at the sheets, sure she could come from the feeling alone.

“This is mine, Lila,” he leaned in close, burying his face in her underwear. “Mine.”

All she could do was whimper and agree.

John smacked her ass so hard it jiggled. Lila yelled and after the pain ceded, time seemed to stop. Nothing but their rough breathing filling the room. John had never done that before.

She wasn’t sobbing but there were tears escaping. She was sure he didn’t know. He was waiting for a reaction.

Lila wasn’t sure where this side of her husband came from. Had he held back those two months? Did he learn it in Europe? Was that why there was another woman - because she couldn’t satisfy him?

She can’t lose him.

“Please,” she begs, hiding tears in the duvet, “do it again.”

Lies. It was all lies but John believes her and he strikes again. She yelps, fisiting the sheets. He believes it’s in pleasure.

Ten slaps. That’s how many she endures before he begins shushing and petting her again. He runs his fingers through her folds and although she didn’t enjoy the punishment mentally - she did nothing wrong, he was the liar - her body certainly did. She’s sopping wet, she’s gonna have to throw out her underwear because they’re destroyed.

“Did you enjoy that?” He grabs a fistful of her hair to sit her up, her back against his sweaty, matter chest. “You like being spanked, baby?”

“Yes.” It’s only half of a lie.

“Now - now, I’m going to fuck you. Nice and hard, just how you like it,” she wants to scream at him. She wants to hit him. When did she ever like it hard? When was hard ever nice? Who was he thinking about because it wasn’t her.

But at the same time she rocks back against him to feel his cock hard between her cheeks. She can’t say she doesn’t want it. Him. This.

He pushes her back down at her teasing, using his now free hands to spread her cheeks and show her tight asshole. Untouched and pure. He presses the tip of his cock against it but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t move.

She jerks at the pressure. Drools on the mattress as she tries to bite down to temper her screams.

Do it.

No, don’t.

“One day,” he promises, pressing deeper so her hole opens but not deep enough to push. “But today, today I want this.” And without any prepping like she’s used to, without any more warning, he’s sliding down and pushing into her. Hard. Deep.

She screams, can’t help it, claws at the mattress in an attempt to crawl away.

It hurt but it felt so good.

Who was she?

“You think you can go be with other men? Let them use the holes I trained? The ones that belong to me?” He pumps into her deep. Once, twice. She’s so wet the noises filling the room are pornographic, her yelling and his panting and her sopping wet vagina smacking against his thighs and taking his cock so well. “You like it like this, Lila? Like when I fucking own you?”

“Yes, yes,” she swears and this time she isn’t lying. It’s all she can manage; she thinks she’s gone cock dumb. There are no words, no feelings, just the feeling of him filling her.

She clenches tight when he slides out. She wants him inside her forever.

He releases his hold of her hair, stepping away. He’s tired of muffling her moans and words. He’s tired of not being able to see her beautiful face.

John’s favorite face in the entire world.

“Turn around,” he commands.

Lila kneels on wobbly legs as she turns over, having little to no energy and bouncing as her body lands with no grace on the mattress. John grabs one of her jiggling breasts in his large hand, squeezing tightly.

“I fucking missed these.” He takes one in his mouth, biting down on her nipple hard. She shrieks but holds his head to pull him closer.

Her thighs are forced open by his hand and then he’s taking hold of himself and thrusting in deep again. Releasing her breasts from his mouth in order to look at her mouth. Lila’s face when he’s fucking her is as close to heaven as he thinks he’ll ever get. She’s incoherent but she’s begging for more - that much he can make out. She manages to gather the strength to grab hold of him and pull him down, clawing at his back.

He hisses at the pain and bites on her collarbone to reciprocate it.

When she grabs the nape of his neck, the cool touch of her wedding ring against his skin, it gives him pause. This was his wife. His wife.

John has been gone so long he thinks he forgot he was married.

“I love you,” he finally says it, pressing his forehead against hers as he slows down. He sniffles then, leaning down to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against hers and swallow her moans. John can’t believe he forgot he had this; can’t believe he forgot for a minute how lucky he was. She’s gorgeous (and not just externally) and he’s quite sure he somehow managed to dream her up. “I love you,” he swears again.

This time she’s the one who doesn’t say it.

She clutches at neck and pulls him down to take a boob in his mouth. Looking him in the eye hurts too damn much. Why did he have to do this now? She was lost in the pain; she had been taking her punishment.

Lila squeezed her eyes shut, moaning loudly as she thrashed around the bed. Her orgasm taking over her body. She wrapped both legs tighter around John, squeezing and pulsing around him and dragging him to the edge with her.

“Fuck, fuck,” he roared, “so damn tight. Yes, Lila. My perfect wife.”

For a couple of seconds, they lay in the aftermath. Lila could feel the heat of John’s breath against her neck. She counted how many breaths they shared in between one another as they recuperated.

Forty-seven that’s how many breaths they shared as they stayed connected.

Forty-eight that’s when John managed to lift his head and place a peck against her mouth. One she didn’t return.

Forty-nine that’s when John pulled back in concern. Lila was so still.

Fifty. That’s the breath she used to say, “you cheated on me,” looking him right in the eyes as she broke out in uncontrollable sobs.

She cried and cried underneath him. Unable to move because her legs felt like jello and they held no power. Unable to push him off because she didn’t want to let him go. Unable to speak because she was suffocating in her heartbreak.

John watched her until he couldn’t, until he was afraid she was going to choke on her own tears and then he was sitting her up, trying to ignore the way she fought against his touch.

I’m sorry, I’m here, he kept saying.

I hate you, she thought but didn’t say.

Until finally, “don’t touch me!” She yelled when he got too close and made to wrap her up in a hug. “Get away from me, John. Stay away.” She crawled to the edge of the bed and curled herself into a tiny ball. Aware she was fully naked and he was still leaking out of her but she couldn’t find it in herself to do anything except cry.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t open her lungs and get any air in. She slapped at the headboard, aware that she was having a panic attack as suddenly everything hit her all at once. It was entirely consuming and she couldn’t do anything to fight against it except cry. All the feelings rushed her at once.

This was going to be it. The weekend of two lovers reunited was the weekend from hell and this was going to be it. She was going to return home in a day and he would stay in Europe and continue to fight the war and seek out other girls and when he returned she wouldn’t be his wife anymore.

Lila would be scornful and full of resentment and miserable and he would leave her. This last time was going to be all she had and she hated him for ruining it.

Why couldn’t he hide his affairs better?

Why did she have to surprise him?

She was perfectly happy not knowing. She was worried and stressed to hell and crying every night missing him but, oh God, all that was better than this.

Lila isn’t sure how long it’s been since she last took a breath but she feels herself fading. She’s shivering and naked in their bed and she can only slightly take in that John’s wrapping her up in the duvet and curling himself around her to warm her up. She’s trying to tell him she can’t breathe, she’s suffocating, at the same time he’s blowing air in her face.

She’s fading when she feels it. A sting on the left side of her face. Hard and sharp and enough to have her gasping for a deep breath.

“Baby, please, wake up,” he’s crying over her, his head on her chest, “wake up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Her chest aches. She coughs.

He whips his head up so fast she almost laughs. Almost.

“Lila,” he holds her against his chest, rocking them back and forth on the bed as she takes in her surroundings. She isn’t sure how long she was out or how long she was panicking for. Had the sun been setting while she lost her shit? It was dark outside now. “Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. Please.”

She taps at his arms to get him to release. She doesn’t think she can talk.

John allows her the space but he doesn’t remove himself from the bed. He stays kneeling, watching her. His hands keep twitching like he wants to reach out and touch her but he’s trying to respect her wishes of not being touched.

She doesn’t lay back down, she stays resting against the headboard. Breathing hurts. She’s scared of suffocating once more. Her left cheek begins burning and she wishes she had the strength to go look in the mirror. Did he mark her? She hopes he did.

Lila’s glad he made it hurt.

“You need to go,” she finally manages to say, ignoring the way he’s already shaking his head in defiance. “Leave me here, John. I want you to go. Get another room.” Find another woman. “I leave in a day.” She wishes she never came to stupid London. She wishes she could forget this entire trip.

“Lila it’s the war,” he starts, shaking in his own tears. “It’s all the shit I see, baby. None of it was because of you okay? None. You don’t fucking know what it’s like up there for us but I stay alive in hopes of coming home to you.” He promises.

She shakes her head, fighting back any more tears. How the hell could she still have any tears left?

“But Gale didn’t cheat,” it bursts out of her before she can stop it and she knows it’s the wrong thing to say entirely.

John stops his apologies, clearing his throat as he gets up and begins dressing into his suit. She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t take back any of what she said. She gets tired of sitting so she lays on her side, staring out the window and noticing London doesn’t have many stars. Is that why it’s so horrible here? Because there were no stars to wish upon.

She could hear his boots stomping on the ground as he reached the door. “Maybe you should have married Gale fucking Cleven then.” And the door slams shut behind him.

She wonders if he’s angry enough to find a girl and sleep with her. Her eyes blur. The time on the clock is six p.m and London’s already dark. She realizes she hasn’t slept since her plane ride. About 19 hours awake - her and John.

Lila allows her eyes to close, hoping when she wakes everything will be better.

Shadows over her eyelids wake her up. Lila finds she hasn’t moved. She’s in the same position facing the window. Facing London, only now bombs are dropping over it. The prettiest colors burst forward in the window but she knows it's truly only tragedy and loss. Murder.

She recognizes John sitting in the arm chair and she wonders when he got back. He isn’t facing her, he’s watching bomb after bomb drop and land no more than mere miles away from them. He’s holding a whiskey on ice, twirling the ice so it hits against the glass.

Lila wonders then if it was the shadows or the noise that woke her up.

“I must have punched in my card a long time ago,” his voice is strong in the dead of the night, seemingly even louder than when he’s singing in the pub. “It must be the reason for all of this. Karma.” He scoffs.

I deserve this, is what he’s trying to say.

Lila feels her stomach twist and spin and there’s bile sitting in her throat. She closes her eyes to stop herself from imagining John in a plane, dropping a bomb that lands on children. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see the hurt sitting on his shoulders.

She remembers how angry she was when he first signed up. Before they were married. They had been dating for over a month, barely, and she already scribbled ‘Mrs. Egan’ over her notebooks. She’d heard it from his younger sister, Eileen, and she felt her world stop. She hadn’t hesitated to run to the stables he worked at and confront him in front of all the men.

“You’re leaving me,” she had accused him. “You’re gonna leave! I’ll never forgive you, John Egan.”

And in front of everyone he’d knelt down and produced a ring, the one his father had given his mother and said, “Marry me.” He didn’t ask because they both knew it wasn’t a question.

She was already his.

And he was hers.

Lila had forgiven him and promised to love, honor, and obey for the rest of her life.

She doesn’t have the strength to stand so even though her throat burns she speaks. “Lay with me,” she croaks. Her voice is raspy and broken and even clearing it aches.

John shakes his head. “You don’t want me to.”

“Lay with me,” she repeats, firm. “I just want to fall asleep with you.”

He looks at her like he's scared to believe. Trying to figure out whether she’s simply being cruel and going to kick him out in her next breath. Or more likely, he’s scared she’ll lose her shit being near him again.

John, hopeful and never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, sets his drink down and nears the bed. Lila keeps her eyes locked on his and he does the same. Their moves and tension resemble a game of chicken, one of them afraid any sudden change can have the other running off.

“Take off your uniform,” she says when he pushes back the covers while still fully dressed. He jerks his head in confusion and she bites her lip to contain a laugh at his dirty mind. Sex is the last thing on her mind. “I want to feel you, that’s all.”

John does as she asks, setting his cap down and shredding every layer before he’s naked and gorgeous and sliding in beside her. She doesn’t allow herself to think about what it means when she immediately slides closer.

Lila’s the one to wrap her arms around him.

Lila’s the one to intertwine their legs.

John follows her lead, lifting an arm so she can raise her head and use it as a pillow. She scoots her face closer and she nuzzles into her armpit, smelling his deodorant and feeling his hairs poke at her nose. She moves further along, escaping the cocoon of his armpit to press her cheek against his chest. She clutches his dog tags in her palm, tight, so he can’t get up in the middle of the night.

“Can we fall asleep together?” She asks, but when she looks up John’s already there.

The next time Lila wakes up her palm aches. She releases what she’s gripping, remembering how she clung to John’s dog tags when he slid into bed beside her. She lifts her head and finds John already looking at her.

He’s got the saddest eyes she’s ever seen and she hates that she’s partly why.

“We should talk,” her voice is low and cracks from not being used. John nods his head but makes no move to begin.

Lila lays her head back on his chest, lightly picking at his matted, curly chest hair. She presses her lips to a freckle near his nipple and his intake of breath lets her know he felt it,

“I’m not the one you write the most letters too,” she starts, finding it easier to not have to look him in the eye. “You write the most to your mom. And I’m not the one who can calm you down when your anger gets the best of you,” she’s so tired of crying, “that’s Gale. “And I can’t even be here for you at the end of a mission to console you or kiss you or help you forget,” she chokes on a sob. “That’s whoever else.”

I couldn’t even keep our baby healthy, she leaves out.

“What’s your point with all this, Lila?”

Lila lifts her head from his chest, “My point is I’m a horrible wife. I - I don’t know if it was too soon or just not thought out but this - I- ” she can’t get the rest of the words out.

“Don’t say that,” John sits up against the headboard, forcing her up as well. He grabs both her wrists in one of his hands to pull her closer and grab her attention. “Don’t fucking tell me that, Lila.”

“I don’t make you happy,” she shakes her head.

“You do. Everything I do, everything I’m doing - it’s for you Lila.”

“I don’t want to marry Gale. Or someone like him. I love you. Only you. But I’m scared that I don’t make you happy. You deserve better.”

“Oh you dumbass,” John coos, suddenly finding the entire situation amusing. He pulls her in for a hug. “You’re my entire fucking heart, Lila Egan. You don’t think you make me happy? You’re the only thing in my life, in my head, that makes me happy.”

She pulls away to hold his face. “If you’re gonna leave me John you need to tell me now. I don’t care about the girls if all they are is to pass the time. And I don’t care that you write to your mom more than me and I don’t care that Gale is the one you listen to but I just need to be the one you love the most. I need to know I’m making you happy.”

His heart aches at the fact that he made her feel she was ever anything less than the most important person in his life. “Lila,” he presses a kiss to her lips, “Rose,” another kiss, “Egan,” another. “Are my only reason for staying alive.”

[world-of-aus]

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader

Warnings: MINOR DNI 18+ (Oral, Fingering, P in V, Praise all around,) Its Porn With a substantial amount of plot?

Author's Note: Second Starkhub Installment for 'The Soldier & Eden Ivy' hope you all enjoy, make sure to drink some water...

STARKHUB - Eden Ivy Fucks Her Boss to keep her job

  Eden Ivy 

  Eden Ivy  

  Eden Ivy 

“Eden Ivy.”  Your name was on everyone’s tongue including his own. 

Stark looked up from his calendar brow raised and pen stilling over the boxed paper, “Eden Ivy?” He questions. “You know carter’s available for this shoot right?” Bucky nods, “I know, but I asked for Eden Ivy, not Carter.” Tony raises his hand in mock surrender, “easy there soldier, I heard you just making sure I heard right, ANYWAY.” Bucky watches his manager scribble your name in finalizing the soldier's filming week. The pen drops to the paper, Tony leaning back in his chair, “so Eden ivy,” he questions with a grin, “She’s really that good?” Bucky raises a brow in question, “what do you mean?” his boss leans forward, “oh c’mon Barnes it’s rare you film with female costars more than once. Carters your go to, your like Starkhubs ‘it couple’.” 

The broad-shouldered brunette grimaces, “we’re not a couple.” he grits shutting the rumor down. “She just happens to be the only one that can take what the soldier gives her, you know how intense it can get, not many like that.” 

Tony nods, “you’re right, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but if what I’ve heard of Eden Ivy so far is true – I think the soldier may have met his match.” His boss knocks on the desk after his thought, “well we’re done here pal and listen don’t forget to get with Pepper and Eden to let them know about the upcoming shoot, don’t want any surprises.” 

The brunette stands with a nod, “are they here today?” Tony looks down at his schedule, “they’re on set three should be wrapped already.” Bucky sees himself out of Tony’s office with a wave over his shoulder, feet carrying him out of the building containing the offices and into the building where the sets are located. 

Sex invades his senses as he passes the sets, pushing the door open for set three, he makes it two steps in before he’s freezing, cock hardening in his joggers.  

Quiet whimpers leave your teeth bitten lips, your body gyrating down onto a silicone pink cock, fingers buried between your thighs as you work quick circles over your clit. Bucky isn’t new to solo’s he’s done his fair share of them when he first started at Starkhub, but he’s never seen one look this good. If he was at home hidden behind a laptop, he’s certain he would be watching your scene right now hand wrapped tightly in a fist around his cock. 

He’s entranced by the way you bounce on the silicone, lips parted on a moan as filth spews from your lips. Pepper is the first to spot him, not that he takes any notice barely seeing her cross the floor to where he stands hard and aching. “Like what you see Barnes?” she teases, freeing him from Eden’s spell. He blinks owlish like as he looks over at his smirking bosses wife, “you could say that.” he speaks gruffly. “Tony said you would be wrapped up, sorry for just barging in.” he chokes out ears trained on your moans, you were close he could tell. Peppers grinning, “Tony knew our wrap time, though knowing him, he has his reasons.” is all she says as your climax hits, Bucky’s eyes shutting, teeth clenched, hands fisted at his sides as he hears you ride it out.  

“So, what can I do for you?” Pepper questions the buzz of the set ringing around the two of them as your set wraps. 

“I requested Eden for a scene on Friday, Tony wanted to make sure I ran it by the two of you to make sure she’s available.”  

The one thing Bucky loved about Pepper is how organized she was, he watched her pull out her phone, going into her planner for you. She scrolls through your scheduled week; she hums looking through your days.  

“She’s all yours,” she says looking up at him, “just make sure you let her know too.” Bucky nods and then she’s leaving him. He makes his way across the set, the crew moving around him as he closes the distance between the two of you. You’re still perched on the sets bed, a sheet lazily thrown over you, and a fucked out sweet smile on your lips. Suddenly he wishes he was the reason for that smile. 

Your gaze is locked on his as he closes the distance, “hi,” you breathe, “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me soldier?” You question teasingly gaze drawing down to the tent in his pants. Despite the cheesiness of your comment Bucky chuckles, “you wanna see just how happy you’ve made me Eden?” 

You try to conceal your grin, teeth capturing your bottom lip as you look up at him, “careful soldier, unless you want a free show, though between you and I we both know our bosses won’t take to kindly to that, nothings free here.” 

Bucky laughs more relaxed this time, “well maybe it won’t have to be a free show, are you available this Friday?” 

Your grin morphs into a smirk, “you want to make a video with me soldier, get me naked and spread out till I’m screaming your name?” 

He gets bold, leaning forward fingers hooking under your chin as he guides you up onto your knees, the flimsy sheet falling exposing your naked breasts to the room. “Want to do much more than a video with you, I want to wreck you, want you to only think of me when you’re with someone else, want to hear you screaming my name when you should be screaming theirs, and when I do, all I want to hear from you is thank you.” 

He’s not above taking you now, especially with how you preen his name, leaning into his touch wanting more. He pulls away, grinning when a whine leaves your lips, “I’ll see you Friday Eden, be a good girl for me now.” He leaves you with a wink, your body slumping into the messy sheets and a curse of his name leaving your lips. 

He’d have you cursing more than just his name come Friday, he’d have you begging. 

 

You were dressed in the tightest, tiniest skirt wardrobe could find you, a black silk blouse clinging to your skin, buttons popped open to just below your sternum - and the heels? 

 He was going to fuck you in those heels. The next time you wore them his name would be on your lips; he’d make sure of it. 

There was a pout on your painted features as you met ‘your boss’s’ demeaning gaze, you were swaying “nervously” in your spot, really playing into your role of being the scared secretary on the verge of losing her job. 

“I should fire you Eden,” he grunts pretending to look at the blank sheets of papers stuffed in a prop file handed to him before the cameras started running. “You fucked up my numbers, you’re fucking with my money. You know what I do to people that fuck with my money?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “I kick them out on their ass’s Eden.” 

You shrink back at his outburst, but he catches the way you rub your thighs together. “Please sir,” you whimper, fuck he wanted you on your knees, his hands fisted in your hair while he choked you on his cock. “I can’t afford to lose this job, my daddy will be so upset with me, please.” He huffs as he kicks away from his desk pushing to his feet as he watches you, strong arms brace him against the fake wood of his desk. “Daddy? You think I give a fuck what Daddy’s going to think? Is Daddy going to get me my money you just lost me?” 

Your lip's part to answer but a knock on the flimsy doors set sounds, the two of you look to the door, Bucky beckons them in. Walker newest recruit to Starkhub struts in paper in hand it was Tony’s idea to introduce him like this - you’d be filming his feature film with him next week. Bucky finds he hates it; he’s staring at Eden like he wants to eat her all while he brings the papers to the desk Bucky stands behind. Walker only stops undressing you with his eyes to tell ‘your boss’ he’s got the newest numbers for him.  

He could care less about the blonde male, but his blood runs white hot when Walker delivers a slap to your ass, one neither of you were expecting on his way off the set. “See you later Eden.” He chuckles, Bucky doesn’t miss the way you shrink back, Walker’s little slap wasn’t part of the script, so your tongue tied, thrown off. He takes control calling your name bringing you back to him, “Eden, eyes on me, you and I aren’t done talking,” your gaze returns to his, good girl he thinks. “You plan on telling your daddy that you messed up, hope he gives you money to fix your mess?” 

You shake your head, “I - No sir my daddy can’t know, he’s going to be so mad at me – please sir – I'll, I’ll do anything I can’t lose this job.” He pushes off the desk, rounding it, closing the distance between the two of you. He stops just a foot short of you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek, thumb running over the apple of it, “you really want to keep this job?” You're nodding eagerly, breath already uneven and he hasn’t even touched you the way he wants too, “and you’d do anything?” 

Those doe eyes you’re so good at dishing come to life, “Anything sir – please.” 

His gaze turns dark, hungry. “Get on your knees.” You gasp mock offense, “sir I -” his hand slips from your cheek falling to your neck, squeezing, “you said you would do anything – now I’m telling you to get on your knees. You want to keep your job, right? Keep daddy and me happy?” 

You’re nodding, “then get on your knees Eden.” 

Your descent is slow, his hand around your neck guiding you as you get down on your knees for him. You look up at him as your fingers reach for the belt buckled through his slacks, you pull the belt from the buckle opening the leather. Your fingers move onto the button holding his slacks closed next letting it pop open, a groan bubbles in his chest when your nimble fingers brush against his hardened cock as you pull the zipper down slowly. Your fingers hook over the top of his slack and boxers tugging on them, his cock springs free from its confines, he watches you lick over your lower lip.  

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs hand sliding up your neck to cradle the side of your head, “now show me just how much you want to keep this job.”  

 Eyes locked on his you get your fingers around his girth, hand fisting around the base of his cock. He waits with bated breath, dark hungry eyes watching you lean forward letting his hand that cradles you follow your movement. Your tongue peeks out past your lips to lick along the underside of his cock, your tongue running over every vein that has his breath leaving his chest. His head falls back a long low grunt falling from his lips as your tongue swirls around the tip before you take him fully into the wet, warm, heat of your mouth till your stretched out around the base of his cock, till he’s hitting the back of your throat. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingers fisting tugging as he guides your motion “just like that” he moans, “fuck Eden knew you were good at something.”   

You moan around his cock, your other hand finding his muscled thigh as you brace yourself, jaw slacking, eyes begging. The fist he has in your hair tightens, his other finding your cheek as he holds you still, complacent. He grinds into your mouth once, twice before he pulls you back till only the tip rests on your tongue, all self-control is lost on him as he fucks his way back into your mouth, pace unrelenting as he makes you take what he gives you. 

“That’s it,” he growls, watching your mascara streak with the tears that pull from your eyes, “take this cock Eden, take it like a good fucking girl, let me see how bad you want it.”  He tugs you off with a snarl harsh tug to your hair as he holds you at arm's length to get a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Your spit pools around your lips, dripping down your chin, staining the black satin shirt a shade darker. He can feel his cock pulse at the sight, watching as you run a thumb over your lips sucking the digit into your mouth as you lick yourself clean, “Did I do good sir? Yont won’t tell my daddy?” 

He takes hold of his own cock, bringing you back into your space as he taps your parted lips with his member, he groans when your tongue slides out, “I don’t know Eden, I don’t feel like you’re very sorry, like you really want this job.” 

You’re whining, kitten licking his cock as if that will fix your ‘mistakes’, “please sir,” you plead doe eyes beaming up at him, “I said I would do anything – and I mean anything.” 

A growl vibrates in his chest as he halls you up, a cry so pretty leaving your lips as you stumble to your feet falling into his embrace. Hand still fisted in your hair, the other finding purchase on your neck as he brings your lips to his, tongue wasting no time as he delves into your parted lips licking up into your mouth. 

“I want you naked, bent over that desk Eden - heels on.” 

You’re tense as you wait bent over the wooden desk, breath caught in your throat, ass high in the air. He drinks you in, watching you all spread out and waiting, your poor pretty pussy clenching around nothing waiting to be filled.  

He takes slow steps forward, “she’s a hungry thing isn’t she.” He husks from behind you. The first contact made is his hand slapping your pussy, the action jolting you up the desk, gasp tumbling from your lips. “Oh yes she is.” he murmurs fingers dipping into your sodden folds, you moan, head thumping against the desk at his touch, “sir please.” You push back into his hand, gyrating against the desk, he leans over you, thick digits circling your clit sweeping up your slick before plunging into your awaiting heat. 

A moan leaves your parted lips, “you’re soaked Eden, slipped in so easily, who got you this wet? Was it Walker?” 

His hot words ghost over your neck, you shake your head, biting back the whimpers, “No sir.” His fingers fuck into you, “tell me Eden who has you this wet?” 

“You sir – please.” you preen pushing back into him, eager as ever. 

“You’re such a good girl Eden,” he murmurs leaning into to nip at the lobe of your ear, “Do you only listen when your cunt is stuffed?” 

You swallow back the yes, instead answering, “no sir – I can listen, I can be good, I promise.” 

“Of course you’ll be good, you’ll do what I tell you if you want to keep this job.” he murmurs ravishing your skin, licking, nipping, biting any of you that he can reach. You’re so reactive to it all, preening his name as he fucks you with his fingers your ass pressing back into his hand as you try to get some control, get him a little deeper. “That’s it, fuck yourself sweetheart, come on my fingers Eden, get yourself wet for me – get yourself ready.” 

The wet slick slide of his fingers into your drenched cunt fill the sets air, skin slapping skin. “Sir please – please!” His teeth capture the lobe of your ear, “Come on Eden, you’ve had no problem taking from me before, come on my fingers, come on.” 

A low moan builds in his chest at the tightening of your cunt against his fingers, a broken cry leaving your lips as your orgasm washes over you. “That’s it Eden good fucking girl,” he growls his warmth that covered your back disappearing as he pushes up, his other hand holding your hips down as he fucks his fingers into you with vigor. 

A cry of his name leaves your lips, hands scrambling to grab a hold of his wrist, he's unbothered, “uh uh Eden, M’not done give me one more, come on now. You’ve taken from me now it’s my turn.” It doesn’t take him long to pull another from you, your body going taught as you gush around his fingers, wetting his slacks. “Fuck such a good fucking girl.” he growls. 

A whine leaves your lips when he pulls his fingers out, making quick work of repushing down his slacks to let his hardened cock spring free again. He covers you with his body again pulling a groan from you as he swipes his dick through your slick getting himself wet. “What’s wrong Eden, you think you’re the only one that can take? Think you could fuck me without getting fucked yourself?” 

Your answer is a choked-out moan as he slides into the wet warm heat of your channel, walls constricting him like a vice. “Fuck,” he growls sliding in till he’s buried to the hilt, the hand that fucked you covering your mouth, “let’s get one thing straight here Eden the only one doing the fucking here will be me. You ever fuck me over again, and you’ll find yourself in a far worse position then this one, you understand?” You’re nodding, whines bubbling past the hold he has on your mouth his cock accentuating every word. 

He can’t hold back anymore as he grabs the parts of you he can with his other hand holding you in place as he makes you take his cock. He only uncovers your mouth to hear how pretty you cry as he drives into you over and over again. He wrecks you like he promised, your body taking every inch of him, “that’s right take my cock like you took my money, keep me happy and you keep daddy happy,” he growls feeling himself closing in on his high. 

He doesn’t want it to end this soon, he wants to have you under him for hours crying for him to stop, that you can’t take anymore maybe another time right now he needed to give clint his money shot. So he pulls out, biting back the groan as he manhandles you to the floor, getting you on your knees as he fists his cock. Your eager for it, tongue rolling out as you look up at him waiting for his cum to paint your tongue, “should have you on your knees more often, it's a good look for you,” he grunts feeling the pleasure build, “much better than that desk you sit behind.” 

Your moaning drives him over the edge, his cum shooting from his cock, painting your cheeks, lips, tongue. He’s winded breath heavy as he watches you clean up his cum from your face with your fingers, he didn’t think he could get hard again but watching your lick your digits clean of his cum would be the thing to do it. He drops to a squat hand fisting in your hair as he brings your lips to his, its a wet dirty kiss all teeth and tongue as he tastes himself on you. 

He wants to laugh when you speak your last line, “does this mean I can keep my job?” but he doesn't instead he pats your cheek thumb running over your lower lip, tugging it down, “you keep me happy, you can have whatever job you want.” 

“Yes Sir.” 

Clints calling cut over his shoulder, the loud buzz of a finished set sounding in the air.  

The two of you relax then your back pressed against the wooden desk as you catch your breath. “How you doing Eden you alright?” he questions needing to check in. 

You smile at him, “more than alright soldier, you always show your costars this good of a time?” 

“If they’re not having a good time m’not doing my job sweetheart.” he answers hands going to the buttons of his shirt. You watch in question as he undoes each button, entranced as he pulls it off handing it to you. Your smile is soft as you take the fabric from his hands putting it on to cover up your naked body.  

“Careful soldier or I might take more than just your money.” 

He laughs, he was betting on it. 

[thefreakandthehair]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPxDC idea/prompt Pen Pals

(Probably more idea but you can run with the concept... im so srry XD) Basically Danny and Damian are pen pals- until Damian receives a letter with Lazarus Water and Blood smeared on the page.

WHAT IF Danny and Damian were pen pals before Danny's accident. A school project for 8th grade. Damian was reluctant to participate but due to it being a grade and being pestered by his siblings that he would just scare the kid off anyways, he deciding to partake in this pen pal. Danny whose not suffering at school, just living a normal life at the moment, is being teased by Dash saying his pen pal could smell loser before even opening the letter. Asking Danny if his parents even let him open the letter or blast it thinking its a ghost. Which makes Danny who wasn't into this idea of writing a stranger more determined to do it. Besides they might only get one letter and teachers drop the subject. They might not even get it. So what the heck. Turns out they become the only ones that constantly wrote each other- even mailing it in person once the school ended the program. (Damian having a post box set up for letters)

At first it was awkward. Danny commented/asking if Damian really was their age or some teacher pretending to write back instead of sending out the letters. If so. He sucks at it because what kid writes perfectly grammar letters and big words to convey something is cool. Guess its better than pretending he knows slang. Damian furious writes back, offended! Also asks if he isn't younger, because everyone with basic english should know to capitalize their letters! This goes back and fourth. Danny writing back every chance he got, and Damian doing the same, even being told not to at the dinner table. It goes from offended at each other to being curious. Danny asking Damian more advice on english because it isn't his favorite subject. Damian asking more about how to sound like his age. Then it devolves to animals. Danny wishing he had one, but his parents didn't want one getting into the lab. Damian happily sending picture of his animals. Danny talking more about the stars.. etc. Until Accident happens- Danny starts having trouble writing the letters. His pen with phase through his hand and replies between them got longer. Danny justifying this by saying he's having trouble with schooling this year. Damian also been unable to send as many replies because he's been busy with teen titans and other heroics. Though he's encouraging Danny saying Danny is far smarter than that school even is aware of. Until one day, after months of not being able to reply. He finds Damian's letter again. It makes him feel better. Even if Damian didn't know him... this person still believes in Danny... Though Danny feels guilty about it- it compels him to write him again. He was about to finish the letter when he gets blasted by a ghost. He returns from the fight, beaten and bloody. He picks up the letter and sighs at the green stain left on it. Folding it up he stuffs it into his bag. Next day after hurrying off to school, his mother finds the letter after it had fallen on the floor. She read a little bit of it and immediately recognize it was to Danny's penpal. She takes the opportunity to try her knew anti-ecto spray and mails it for Danny. "Boy just like his father. So messy. I'll have to give him a lecture about ecto-contamination again." Damian just returned from a mission from Teen Titans, been gone for three months. Alfred informs Damian he had received a letter from his anonymous pen pal in his absence. Damian had almost forgotten about the pen pal- thinking his pal just didn't want to answer anymore. So eagerly he goes to his room to open the letter, but immediately blood drain from his face as his eyes zoomed back the feathery ink to the green blotch of lazurus water.. having almost evaporated.. leaving a water stain that glowed... and more importantly.. the human specks of blood that was revealed with the driest parts of the stain. Damian immediately rushes to the cave.. only to find out his paranoia was right.... and was it his fault his friend was harmed? Also the idea of Damian talking to Phantom in his robin suit. Asking how Daniel Fenton was.. and Phantom surprised and slips out a "Alive as much as he's dead." Damian glaring and Phantom corrects, "He's fine. He has parents that are ghost hunters is all." Stressing his situation complicated. Phantom just so shocked his pen pal is a hero- annnnd also cursing his mom for sending a letter like that. HE KNEW IT WOULD SEND IMPLICATIONS!

but idk if I figured out a good way for Damian to see the smeared letter. I just think it be fun. Also Damian thinking he's to blame for league going after the fentons when he wasn't. At least not as early as he thought. He's very focused on saving/protecting Danny Fenton.. which makes Phantom's job harder.

[thewertsearch]

You've got to be shitting me. Does this wallet even have a size limit?

It's starting to feel like, when the Act ends, John could just pocket the entire session and leave. At the very least, the kids will no trouble bringing their houses to the reboot session.

Hell, they might even be able to bring their Lands.

[...] you wonder where all of her sweet weapons went.

Fuck! We needed those needles!

...wait, no, we don't. The bunny's weapons are from the future, so there's also a present version of the Quills floating around, just like Ahab's Crosshairs. Presumably we'll be using those Quills to cause the Scratch, and the Pen-Pal will get his hands on them later.

Actually, it could be really bad if John used the future version of the Quills. That would cause a true paradox, where the Pen-Pal obtains a set of Quills that he's already sent back in time. The needles would be trapped in an infinite loop, and they'd never have come from Echidna in the first place.

Speaking of the Pen-Pal, it seems like he’s got some more to say. Let’s see if he gives us any more clues as to his identity.

You see i adapted terry with some doodads you may deem practical. An infinitesimalator which i used to littlefy them down in the first place as well as a monstrositifier for when you would like to hugen them up and wield them yourself! [...] I borrowed this technology from my grandmother who had quite the way with manipulating space. Legend tells she was something of a witch with the stuff!

More of the same, really. He certainly seems convinced that Jade's his grandmother - but I still don't think that makes sense.

First of all, for someone who's supposedly Jade's grandson, he sure doesn't mention any of her friends. We’ve already talked about how strange it is that he doesn’t know John, and that was before we learned that God Tiers are semi-immortal.

Sure, maybe John died heroically - but he also speaks about future Jade in the past tense. Like every other character, Pen-Pal is presumably thirteen, so Jade can't have been that old. So now John didn't survive the session, and Jade did, but she apparently died young anyway?

Also, another question. Why did Pen-Pal need to build the bunny? After all, he should be surrounded by Players with endgame alchemy setups, unless you're telling me that none of the kids or the trolls are involved in his life.

What, did they all die? Was he kidnapped as a baby? Do all Alchemiters explode when you exit the Medium? The more I think about this guy, the more confused I get, and it's great.

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Pen-pals

Warnings: only the hapter to start things going and to set the vibe, part one of at least 10, i have not proof read ୨୧

Chapter 1 – Greetings.

He was forced into it, no way in hell would he ever do it on his own. But his also forced councillor thought it would help him to have connections to the outside world and ensured him that if it didn’t work out within two months, he could stop trying and never do it again. But he couldn’t tell her that or it would be ‘cheating.’

Which would probably deter people but as a chronic people-pleaser, I just couldn’t let that run. So, I tried my absolute hardest to fill my letters with copious amounts of joy so that there’s no way he couldn’t write back.

January 13th

--

Dear ‘Ghost’,

I was only told your call-sign to ensure maximum confidentiality – rules right. They told me that you were the only one who could tell me your real name so if you ever feel comfortable enough, I will happily learn all about you!

Here is some information about me; my name is Y/N, I am always helping people out for work (quite interesting if I do say so myself), I love to bake in my free time and my favourite time of the year is autumn (I just LOVE the mix of weather).

I always add some questions to these letters.

Why is your call-sign Ghost?

What’s your favourite thing to do when you aren’t deployed?

And finally, a simple one – what’s your favourite colour?

From,

       Y/N.

P.S I was told you would probably take around a week – two to respond so don’t feel rushed to write back, I know how taxing your job tends to be :)

January 29th

--

Dear Ghost,     

I hope you are doing well, I’m not sure if you received the letter I sent as you haven’t replied so I’m trying again just to make sure. My name is Y/N and I have a black Labrador that I love so much. 

I have a hectic work schedule and I am always flying all over the world to help people. So I won’t always be able to write to you consistently. I hope that’s okay!

Instead of questions, I thought I would tell a little joke;

What do you call a shipment full of military-issued T-Rexes?  SMALL ARMS. 

:) hope you enjoyed that one because there are way more to come.

From

 Y/N.

February 13th

--

Dear ‘Ghost’,

This will be the last letter I am writing to you as I believe someone could get through to you, it just won’t be me. So, I have requested to be swapped buddies. 

I think it might be someone who’s in your unit, I think his name is John or Johnny – something like that. And I’m told I will be a better suit to them and their personalities.

So I hope you stay safe and are able to speak with someone who you can let your guard down too; even though they will never be as funny as me. Teehee :)

From

Y/N.

I’m quite sad that it didn’t work out as I thought we could have both benefited from it, but you know what they say – it is what it is. And at the end of the day, he needs someone he can truly feel comfortable talking to and I never did get to know him so it doesn’t affect me much in those terms. Even if a month was wasted by waiting for a never-to-arrive letter. Well the true term would be never-to-be-write-or-sent but we digress.

The birds hum a beautiful harmony as I post the final letter through the poorly painted post-box on the end of my road. As I turn to leave, the clouds above me start weeping uncontrollably at my departure.

I’ve never been one for signs but that can’t have been a coincidence.

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

They first two chapters will be mostly letters and then will move to texts and irl interactions - at least I plan...

[holylulusworld]

Pen Pals

Summary: The withering rose never finds love. Right?

Pairing: Lord!Bruce Wayne x Lady!Reader; Lord!Clark Kent x Lady!Reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, unrequited feelings, regency au, mentions of rejection, a hint of fluff

A/N: This is an alternative version of Windfall with different characters.

A summer night dream, that’s what it was, and nothing else. 

A summer filled with love letters and daydreams of a withering rose came to a sudden end. 

Fall came much too soon. Along with the heartbreak caused by rejection.

Lord Wayne made you believe he’ll court for you when he returns from his summer residence. All the secrets you shared in your letters were for nothing.

He didn’t have the guts to look at you when he stepped inside your father’s house. Lord Wayne ignored your longing looks, and that you put flowers in your hair to impress him. 

He told you so many times about his favorite flowers and you wanted him to know you read every line he wrote to you.

You wrung your hands and waited for him to mention your name, only to ask your father for allowance to court for someone else.

He didn’t say your name. 

Flora. A beautiful name for a beautiful young woman. The name of your cousin, not yours.

He came to your home, but not for you. A man like him only courts for the pretty dames, young and polite. Petite and most importantly, without wit. 

Lord Bruce Wayne came back only to court for your cousin, not you. Your heart broke into a million little pieces when you realized that you are not the woman he’ll ask to become his bride.

“Oh my, did you hear,” your cousin swoons, unbeknownst of your broken heart, “Lord Wayne invited me to go for a walk with him!”

“That’s wonderful,” you force a smile on your lips, and nod. “You shouldn’t let him wait,” you hastily say to make her leave. “You’ll make a beautiful bride.”

Flora smiles at you like she used to when she was much younger.

You’re like an elder sister to her, and you don’t have the heart to tell her how the man asking for her hand led you on…

“Dear Lady Y/N,” you read out loud before ripping another letter into pieces. You throw it into the fire and watch it turn into dust. Just like your hope for a future with the Lord. “He lied…”

You read another letter and another. He talks about his travels and never answers your questions. When you read the sixth letter you realize Lord Wayne only ever asked about your cousins.

“Oh,” you throw them into the fire to read the next one. Again, he asks about Flora’s favorite flowers. Back then, when the letter arrived, you believed he only tried to include your family. Now you know you were a source of information to him, nothing else.

Lord Wayne used you to find out what Flora likes, and how to court her. You talked highly about him to your father all summer long; only for him to ignore you, and the role you played in getting his happily ever after.

You stop reading the letters and throw them into the fire, along with the flowers you pressed for him during summer. You wanted to show Lord Wayne the ones you love the most. Another mistake you won’t do again.

The fire eagerly feasts on the dried flowers, and you start to cry. The poor flowers are just like you, withered and colorless.

“Goodbye, Lord Wayne,” you whisper as you throw the last letter into the fire. 

“Lady Y/N,” Aurelia, the housekeeper calls for you. “Can you please come downstairs?” she politely asks. You know her all your life, and her tone tells you something must be wrong.

“Coming,” you softly say and wipe your eyes. You take a deep breath and decide to forget about your broken heart.

The moment Flora leaves your home to marry Lord Wayne, you won’t see much of him and her ever again.

The Lord lives secluded, far away from others. He won’t allow Flora to visit you often because he’s not a very sociable person.

That’s what you liked so much about him. You’re awkward around too many people too.

You open the door and leave the safety of your room to walk downstairs. You put on a fake smile as she tells you that someone came to visit.

“Lord Kent,” you curtsy and try to force a smile on your face. “What brings us the honor of your presence?”

“Lord Wayne asked me to join him for a visit at your father’s house,” Lord Kent politely replies. He gives you an honest smile and dips his head as the housekeeper seems to be glued to your side.

“You missed them by an hour, Lord Kent,” you reply, barely hiding your anger. “If you hurry you can catch up with them. But be aware, Lord Wayne already courts Flora. You must settle for Calista instead.” 

“What? I-“ He’s speechless by your bluntness. “What if I wanted to court someone else?”

“Flora is taken, my Lord,” you force a pained smile on your lips. “They are both beautiful and well-behaved. One like the other, a rare flower you can plug. If you hurry, you can still catch up with them. Have a pleasant day, Lord Kent.”

You turn around to walk back upstairs. Aurelia holds back a chuckle as you ignore Lord Kent’s existence.

It’s impolite to not invite Lord Kent for tea, but your parents aren’t around, and you don’t want to end up being called something worse than a spinster.

“Lady Y/N,” Lord Kent says a little louder. “Please wait. I didn’t come here to court for Flora or her sister.” He steps closer and almost touches your shoulder. “Please look at me.”

You sigh and turn back around. “Lord Kent,” you meet his gaze, and let your eyes wander. His hair is a little longer, and a beard frames his handsome features. He's a little rougher around the edges since he's alone.

Some years back he lost his wife, and ever since then, he changed.

“Please let me explain my sudden appearance at your doorstep, my lady.”

“Lord Kent, this is inappropriate, and you know it,” you whisper. “We don’t have a chaperone around. Please tell me why you came here, and I’ll inform my father when he comes back.”

“Lady Y/N,” he clears his throat. Lord Kent nervously runs his fingertips through his locks, messing his hair up. “I came here to tell you that Lord Wayne’s intentions aren’t pure. The letters he wrote to you were…”

“What do you know about the letters?” You gasp and cover your mouth with one hand. “Please don’t tell me he showed you my letters. Please, Lord Kent. I…my father cannot know.”

“He only wanted to get to know more about Flora,” Lord Kent gently grabs your hand to hold it. “I found the letters and confronted him. I came here to make sure he won’t ruin your reputation.”

“I-“ you shake your head. “We only wrote a few letters. He was my pen pal during the summer. I burned all the letters now.” You give Lord Kent a pained smile. “I’m past him, and his lies.”

Lord Kent nods slowly. He watches your lips wobble and sighs deeply. “He should’ve never led you on.” His hands twitch when you pout. “A real man would properly court you, Lady Y/N.”

He lifts your hand to bring it to his lips. Lord Kent brushes his lips over your knuckles before placing a chaste kiss on your skin.

“I—” 

“I am such a man, Lady Y/N,” he wraps his large hands around yours, dwarfing your hand with his own. “I will return when your father is back.”

He releases your hand, and bows as he says his goodbyes.

You’re too stunned to even breathe. Did he just imply that he wants to court you?

You can only watch Lord Kent walk away. He has a spring in his step, and you wonder if you are the reason. 

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[aduck8myshoes]

I know the writers won't give us an endgame wlw sibling, but think about the bridgerton family comedy they could milk out of that! Imagine:

In either a cold open cut-off or a cliffhanger, Cressida impulsively kisses Eloise and runs away, leaving Eloise completely blue screened. Eloise has no idea that lesbibabs exist, bc regency, and she is having lots of feelings she doesn't understand. She needs knowledge which to her means books, but where would one even find such a publication?

Cue Eloise trying to casually ask her two most worldly brothers where to find books about girl kissing. B and C spend a good 20 seconds looking back and forth from her to each other and going on just incredible face journeys. She's like, I just overheard some stuff and was curious this is not about me at all ahahaha, and they all suddenly have very important things to attend to that are not this conversation.

(Read more because this got long lol)

Colin has seen women have sex with each other in brothels, but he is an oblivious mfer that just discovered complex emotions last season, and probably had no idea there could be romantic feelings involved. So of course he goes to his wife about it.

Penelope is like, wtf, where is this coming from?, and Colin manages to not blurt out that it's about Eloise for a whole 10 seconds. Pen, who actually has a modicum of emotional intelligence, has heard her recently reconciled best friend complain for years that she doesn't understand why women want husbands, and is like, oh, some things suddenly make sense. She tells Colin to not worry about it and go to sleep.

Bi-nedict, who does know what a lesbian is, has heard his darling sister complain for years that she doesn't understand why women want husbands, and is like, oh, some things suddenly make sense.

Being the selfless brother he is, he heads over to the nearest artist orgy and asks around for some literature. They're like, oh yeah for sure, we have a zine club! (And then gets dicked down/pegged like he deserves.)

A few days later he gets a discreet delivery of underground pamphlets with names like "A Treatise on Human Sexuality" and "Like Yearns for Like: Observations on Attraction" as well as some he will NOT be giving to Eloise. (Zine club is very educational)

The less salacious pamphlets get awkwardly passed off to Eloise before bed and she spends all night in a montage of reading, recalling memories of Cressida (or possibly just women in general) being attractive, and working her way though her mini identity crisis.

At breakfast Violet sees her be like "Thank you for your... help. It was very... helpful" while not making eye contact with B, and mentally steels herself for whatever nonsense her kids are up to now.

For the next several episodes we watch them stumble upon Eloise as she attempts to get Cressida alone to talk (and then "talk") and have to try to keep anyone from finding out about the gal pals.

(Benedict going to duck around a corner only to see his sister sucking face and ducking right back out: Hey Colin and Penelope why don't we spend this entire ball standing right here blocking the entrance to this side hallway for no reason.

Penelope, who hasn't seen E in like an hour, putting 2 and 2 together: Ah yes, what an excellent idea brother-in-law! The view of everything in the opposite direction of that hallway is most splendid from this exact spot.

Colin, looking around, probably still oblivious: did Eloise go home?)

Anthony and Kate could be dragged into the effort as well at some point when they see something they shouldn't while looking for their own make-out spot.

And then when the drama hits and the relationship is revealed, they all put on their best shocked Pikachu faces while Colin finally gets it and is like, "oh wait is that why she was asking about-" before Pen stomps on his foot.

Violet lets herself give up for a full minute and just bang her head on a table.

[coralinnii]

Hello, may I please ask for part 2 for Malleus in that isekaid villainess au? Heacanons please

"If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice" 

feat: Malleus

genre: hurt/comfort?, romance

note: sequel to “being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy”, roughly 1.5k word count

I hear you simps. I had an idea for an interaction with the heroine but the post got kinda long so I stopped here.

The past few weeks felt like a roller-coaster. You were pushed, pulled, and blindsided by the amount of things that were happening simultaneously. 

Firstly, you had to deal with the sudden proposal your family received for you, literally on the day you just had your previous engagement annulled. 

Secondly, your family had to deal with the accusations of treason from multiple families, which suspiciously included the families of the capture targets. 

Thirdly but probably the most concerning, your precious pen-pal and the man who sent the proposal was the Dragon King and hidden capture target of the game you were reincarnated into, Malleus Draconia. And he keeps appearing by your house to receive the answer you refuse to give yet. 

“Are you upset that I am the Dragon King, dear human? Do you hate me?” 

Screw him and his sulking figure right now. How does a Dragon King be so good at pouting?

After everything that has happened, you wanted nothing to do with the main protagonist and her harem and with Malleus being a capture target, he was just as liable to betray you like everyone else did. Your heart couldn’t bear any more. 

You were scared, which was why you attempted to distance yourself from him with logical reasoning. You tried to convince him that marrying you was too socially damaging. 

“So long as my family is suspected of treason, I cannot in good conscious marry you, Belle- King Malleus”

“Oh, is that all?” And with that, Malleus left leaving you confused. What did that mean?

Apparently that meant that Malleus had a mission to destroy what stood in the way of his beloved. Within a week, he and his aids searched for foul play regarding the accusations and soon found what he was looking for. The offenders responsible were arrested and sent to the imperial family in secret. He found something interesting but thought it would be better to hold onto this trump card for a bit. 

Thus, the accusations were dropped and your family was joyous over the news. And so was Malleus, albeit for different reasons. 

“What say you now, dear human?” 

“P-Please distance yourself, King Malleus!” 

Malleus was persistent and determined to woo you the human way if he must. With the advice he received from Lilia (poor choice, really), he attempts to win your hand in marriage. 

“My young Malleus, before humans marry, they tend to court each other first” 

And so he did. He would bring you expensive gifts and take you to “dates” (walks around his extravagant gardens count, right?) 

“King Malleus, please-“ 

“Call me by my pet name, dear. I believe humans call their lovers by terms of endearment” 

“That's beside the point! P-Please step back!” 

“But Lilia reported that humans are fond of physical contact and close embraces? In addition, you were fond of holding my hand when we first met”

“!!”  

Still, despite all of your fears, Malleus found his way into your heart and you chose to trust him despite his position as a capture target, against your better judgement. 

Which was why you chose him to come with you to meet them again. 

“They truly have no shame” your father seethed as your house received an invitation with the imperial seal on it, an invitation to a ball celebrating the new engagement of the prince. Your mother held you in a comforting embrace but she wore a look of great distress and rightfully so. Because it was sent as a royal invitation, to refuse is to insult the imperial house and your family was already in hot waters. 

“Sweetie” your mother spoke to you worriedly to which you tried to smile to ease her worries. You weren’t happy but you knew what you had to do. 

Luckily, Lilia heard of your predicament and offered a solution. 

“Dear, a human’s greatest arsenal could be those they have bonds with” the wise viscount hinted. “I’m sure my King would be more than happy to accompany you” 

Which brought you to where you were now, with Malleus offering a hand to you as you walked towards the castle you used to be so acquainted with. 

You were quite a sight to those attending the ball, the jilted former princess candidate being escorted by one of the most powerful beings in the land. Being unable to bear their piercing stares, you started to put focus on keeping pace with your partner, tightening your hold on his arm which you realized were rather built and firm. You knew Malleus to be lean based on his game design but the feel of his arms had your mind wandering slightly if he’s more muscular than you thought. Was he this firm everywhere else? 

“Dear human, are you alright? You seem deep in thought” 

Your body flushed with embarrassment as you got caught drifting too deeply in your thoughts. You released your hold on Malleus and stepped away a little to cool down before the draconian man realized. Luckily, he seems none the wiser. 

“So you chose to come afterall” 

You flinched at the voice. You dreaded your instincts to be true but it turned out to be so. It was the prince, accompanied by his closest companions and the star of the ball, the heroine. 

Swallowing your nerves, you bowed as expected towards the royal family. “As a loyal servant of the royal family, it is my duty to respond to the invitation” 

However, the prince scoffed at your figure. “Even when you and your family's disgraced themselves, you call yourself loyal?” 

You held back your tears but it was difficult when you could feel the heavy weight of disgust the prince held for you. Once upon a time, he was your dearest childhood friend and you thought the years the two of you spent together meant something to him. Sadly, it must have been one-sided on your part. 

However, as heavy as that disgust, it was getting overwhelmed by the aura of something else. The growing anger coming from next to you. 

“Young prince” your partner spoke in a warning tone, narrowing his striking green eyes. “I recall the misunderstanding was resolved and the true perpetrators were apprehended by the imperial knights” 

The prince was quick to silence himself and avoided your eyes which hinted he was already aware of the arrest. 

"Your anger towards my partner seems to be misguided, despite the knowledge of the true situation. Quite unbecoming for a future ruler, I must say"

Malleus continued to stare down at the shaking royal heir and let out a disappointed sigh. 

“I cannot blame you, however” Malleus said which surprised both the prince and you. 

The powerful fae, with gentleness contradictory to his reputation, held your hand in his. He brought your hand closer to his lips, bringing your attention, and the attention of others, to the tall man. You felt your heart jump as he smiled at you before speaking once again.

“I’ve come to understand the feeling of anger for the sake of others and the desire to protect those dear to you” 

Your nerves returned tenfold as your heart was beating to the point you were nervous to think if all of the surrounding attendants was able to hear it. 

Although his green eyes were soft when holding your gaze, it was quick to harden when he turned to stare down at the prince and his associates. 

“But I suggest you tread carefully, young prince,” Malleus daringly warned the capture targets. “In my investigation regarding the accusations against my dear’s family, I came across something curious” 

With that, the intimidating king took a step closer and leaned slightly forward, closer to the nervous prince but still situated in a way that seemed to look down at the prince. 

“The families that reported the treason were in one way or another connected to that woman of yours, which begs the question if these false accusations were done for her benefit” 

The prince froze and glanced at his new lover, who looked as worried as he did. No matter the power the heroine and the prince may hold, that kind of conspiracy would damage the heroine’s reputation as well as the prince and his associates who were quick to condemn your family due to these accusations. If it turned out that underhanded methods may have been used to dirty your name then…high society and the kingdom would be in an uproar. 

And Malleus was counting on that. 

“So…” Malleus' deep voice broke through the prince’s mental spiral. “I do hope you choose wisely before ever trying to interact with my precious one again”

[rockingthegraveyard]

Notable kids Jason knew in his childhood.

In no particular order. Realized I did kind of put them in order from post to pre Robin era.

Rena (Detective Comics 561 / 563-565)

Pre-crisis Jason's girlfriend. They met in high school after Jason was adopted by Bruce. They were both the new kids and found companionship with each other.

Numbers (Batman: Gotham Nights 11)

Briefly lived together at Ma Gunn's. Numbers took punishment in Jason's stead because Jason was kind to him. Jason saved him in return, as an adult, from an assassin.

Gabby Christensen (Red Hood / Arsenal 4)

Homeless kid, along with Jason, who looked out for Jason before he was adopted by Bruce. Would comfort and try to tend to his injuries despite him lashing out.

Max Dawkins (Truth & Justice 10)

Ran with Jason when he was homeless. Jason notes that Max looked after him like a brother and Jason considered him he best friend. Jason would leave money for Max to find after he was adopted. Lets just ignore the fact he was created just to be murdered, he is still alive, fuck you DC.

Dana Harlowe / Strike (Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) 51-52)

Possibly Jason's oldest friend. Dana's father seem quite familiar with Jason, recognizing him as an adult and remembering him fondly. Dana took up the name Strike to help defend her neighborhood during the Joker War and later fought with Red Hood to save her sister, Denise

Jason was also friends with Edward Bloomberg (Kid Devil) who he was pen pals with, mentioned in the Blue Devil comics. And Roy Harper (Speedy ((at the time)) starting from the New 52 series. Didn't add them because I was focusing on friends outside of the hero life but they deserve the mention.

These are all the ones that I know of. If I missed anyone, feel free to add them!

[sabokunsmalia]

featuring: mentions of erwin smith x fem!reader ; mostly levi ackerman x fem!reader anime: attack on titan content warning: smut, mdni!! ; oral (fem! receiving), cheating, mentions of oral (m!receiving) hi it's malia: i love erwin, really. but this just seems so plausible, maybe because i would burn the world down for levi so hahahah.

He dragged you along to another event, hosted for him. A celebration for destroying another wave of Titans, who would have crushed Wall Maria once again. Erwin has been working hard the past days, having sleepless nights in his office as the stack of papers slowly vanished. With just one arm, the commander wasn’t as fast as before anymore, having to take small coffee breaks between the hours to let the muscles in his left arm relax.

But throughout attempting to please the government further with his anticipation to expand the lands, and maybe offer a plan for complete freedom to the population, Erwin forgot that someone was waiting in his chambers at night. You slept alone, wrapped up tightly in his cold blanket while hoping he would soon decide to leave the papers be and join you. Just for cuddles, or maybe a simple and quick good night kiss. The last few weeks, you were left alone with no attention or admiration from your boyfriend.

Still, Erwin dragged you along to the celebrations, your arm sweetly laced through his while being shown off to the cadets and other units. Uncomfortable was the wrong word for your feeling, almost not enough to describe how unbearable it was to stand beside the Commander after those past days.

Walking off from his side went by unnoticed as he engaged in another conversation with a group of people, who wanted to know more about upcoming plans of the Scout Regiment. Thought walking off brought you into this exact position, trapped against the cold wall, and the dress bunched around your waist. Legs spread, one thrown over the shoulder, you shouldn’t feel so particularly good about this situation. Yet, after being left alone for too many nights, you found yourself visiting Captain Levi’s office frequently. At least, he allowed you to stay and be his company.

But watching how his slender fingers held the pen tightly, and scribbled along the lines about a past mission, described easily the first hour of your little visit. When you decided to stay longer, the eagerness of feeling loved and admired again overcame your clear state of mind. Hidden underneath Levi’s desk while having your mouth stuffed with his dick, or sprawled out on top of the wooden surface with your legs spread while his tongue devoured your pussy. It all happened too fast, and felt way too good, even if you never went the complete way because the guilt gnawed on your heart quickly after one orgasm.

But right now, just around the corner of the ballroom, you swallowed those feelings down with a sweet whimper. Levi’s rough and scared fingertips pressed into your thighs, knowing that he would leave blue and purple marks behind. Little hints for what you’ve been doing behind Erwin’s back but he would never see them, as his office work stood as his top priority.

The tip of his soft tongue circled the hardened bud between your wet folds. Levi made a mess between your thighs, the arousal already running down the inside of your left leg. Moans breathed into the palm of your hand, you tried your best to stifle the filthy whines which desired to escape the tightness of your dry throat. The other arm had the fabric of your dress crumbled between the slender fingers. You wanted to touch his soft hair so badly, press him further into your pussy while Levi offered a chance of stress relief. But he declined any obvious touch which could ruin his appearance. His reputation was important, and looking representative was important.

Furrowed brows and frowning corners of your mouth were enough to convince the Captain to cheer you up with a method, he was excellent had. “I’m close, Levi,” You removed your palm to whisper the words, and Levi answered with a hum against your clit.

Barely seconds later, two of his long and thin finger plunged into your wet hole, stretching your walls while his tongue flattened. Levi truly desired to grant you the best kind of experience possible. As if the government and scout regiment around the corner didn’t apply enough pressure, Levi’s digits and tongue added satisfaction to the risky moments. The thought of getting caught, Erwin turning the corner and witnessing how another man took care of your needs, pushed you into the bliss of an orgasm.

Levi’s name slipped out of your mouth like tiny praises for the amazing result of his good work. As always, he lured you into a deep world of ecstasy as the inevitable pleasure crashes over you in waves. As you opened your eyes, Levi’s never-changing emotionless glare anchored on you as he used the handkerchief to wipe away your juices from his chin. “Such a sweet taste,” He commented, helping you to lower the skirt of your dress again and hide what he has been doing behind the Commander’s back.

“Stays between us,” Levi patted his rough fingertips against your flustered cheek, watching how the bashfulness spread further. “Next time, I will fuck you the way you deserve, doesn’t matter if Erwin hears,” On the inside, Levi chuckled about his own words. On the outside, his fingers caressed around your jaw before leaving to join the celebrations again. At least until you offered him release for the bulge in his pants.

[coffeexafterxmidnight]

The Token Human - Part 3

Hi y'all, me again back with part 3 of this... adventure, let's call it that. Sorry for not posting this yesterday but I had a random Depression Day and couldn't get much done. I seem to be doing better though so, let's hope I don't have another one of those days for a week or so.

Part 1 Part 2 CW: nothing too bad this time! Just Wally having no sense of personal space, and stalking. And memory alteration, too. [what does it say about this fic that this stuff is 'not too bad'?]

You couldn't help it, you were a little jealous…

From your spot under a friendly tree, you watched Eddie on his daily route. He looked up from the envelopes in his hand. With a smile, he waved at you. You waved back. 

Eddie was a good guy, a friend of yours for sure. It wasn't his fault, not at all.

No, it was no one's fault, probably…

But as Eddie so stopped by Julie's house, three letters in hand, you had to look away. Something bitter chewed at you.

Why didn't you get any letters?

Seemed like everyone in the neighborhood got them. Family members and distant friends, pen pals from far away, even each other. But your mailbox remained only full of dust and longing.

Hard to think of who you'd want to get a letter from though. Your own family… you didn't want to think about that, for some reason that made you sad. Old friends… that made you sad, too.

You sighed and leaned against the tree, messing with the friendship bracelet Wally gave you. He made them with Barnaby and gave one to everyone. He even put yours on himself because you couldn't figure it out. The memory of his little nimble fingers brushing against your wrist still stuck out at you. Why did you always remember the weird stuff?

Wally wasn't around right now. You glance towards Home, in the center of town. Wally was busy inside his Home. Wally hadn't talked to you in a few days, really deep in painting. You wondered before if he was angry with you, but you hadn't done anything, not on that day or any other. Baking cookies with Poppy wasn't a bad thing. You'd even offered him some…

Wally was busy inside his Home. Everyone was having fun on their own.

I'm going to write a letter, you thought, and stood. That sounds like the absolute most.

Humming a cheery little song as you walked down the street to your house, you thought about who you'd send a letter to. Your parents? You didn't know their address. Some distant friend? You didn't know any of those either. Someone in town? You chuckle at the thought. Wouldn't that be funny, sending a letter to someone you saw every day.

In your house you found both paper and envelopes. You couldn't really remember when you got them - did someone bring them over for crafts? Were they part of Howdy's welcome to Home gift basket? Hard to say…

But you found paper and envelopes and stamps and a pen. You sat at your favorite desk, your only desk, and hovered the pen over the page.

Pause for a second. What were you going to say? What were you going to tell this person, someone you hadn't even decided on? Someone you might not even know. Someone… outside of Home…

It's a long shot, you thought. Your fingers clutched the pen until your hand shook. Such a long shot. If you screwed this up, you'd probably not get another chance.

It was a long shot but maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

You clutched at the memories with all your might. There had to be someone who remembered you, even if you didn't remember them. There had to be someone who could help you, out there.

The picture formed in your mind's eye, so clear, so perfect, the person you wanted to talk to more than anyone else…

Two arms locked around your body, pinning your arms to your sides. Cold sweat broke out on your forehead.

"You think too loud, neighbor," Wally said into your ear. "I could hear you from inside my Home."

He rested a fuzzy cheek on your shoulder and sighed.

"You were thinking of leaving again, weren't you?" He said.

You didn't speak, the words locked up in your throat. 

"I don't like it when my friends leave. At least, I think I don't. It's never happened before. Isn't that silly? Home is such a nice place, nobody who comes here ever wants to leave…"

The grip on you tightened.

"Except for you." 

The name slipped from your mouth. 

"Wally…"

"I think," Wally said, pressing up against the back of the chair, "You don't really understand. Home is great! Home is safe, and fun, and happy. Don't you want to be happy?"

A hand, too large, too long, gripped your chin.

"We could be happy here forever, and ever, and ever. You and me and all our friends. Why don't you want that? Why don't you want to stay with me?"

A felt finger traced the line around your lips, and your stomach churned, you squirmed in discomfort.

"There's nowhere to go, anyway. Silly, silly."

He pressed his cheek against yours. Your eyes watered.

"I'm all there is now," Wally said, "I made sure of it."

Your eyes went wide.

"What - what did you-"

His hand covered your mouth. The felt was soft. His grip was too, too strong. You struggled. A memory washed over you, Wally singing as he dragged you down a dark hall, Home creaking, squeaking, as you struggled struggled struggled struggled

"Wake up!"

Your eyes snapped open. Julie let out a cheer and wrapped her arms around your disoriented self. You raised a hand to your head, blinking in the sunlight. You were under your favorite tree, Julie and Frank on either side of you, Julie hugging you still, Frank adjusting his tie the way he did when he was composing himself.

"What happened?" You looked around.

"You were having a nightmare!" Julie said. "You fell asleep under the tree again!"

"I did?" You looked at your two small friends. "That was silly of me."

"What were you dreaming about?" Frank asked.

You stopped, thought about it. What were you dreaming about, that got you all scared like you were…?

"... I don't remember," you lied. "The last thing I remember thinking about was writing a letter to someone…"

"That's a great idea!" Julie shouted. "We can all write letters to each other."

"Tomorrow," Frank interrupted. "Some of us like to get sleep when it's dark."

As the two continued to bicker, you looked up towards the street. There he stood, your best friend Wally. He smiled at you. You tried to smile back, even as your pulse tripped and quickened in your body. 

Wally isn't your friend, where did you hear that from? Wally isn't your friend, but he'd never hurt you. Wally isn't your friend… but if he wasn't, then what was he?

He blinked at you, and you blinked back. What were you thinking about again?

After you left, walking Frank and Julie down the street, Wally threw himself down in the spot you'd been in before. It didn't smell like you. It didn't smell like much of anything but grass and dirt, and fresh leaves, but that was okay. He knew what you smelled like better than you did. And it was just the absolute most, just like you were.

He smiled. Thinking about you made him warm inside, happier than anyone ever had before. When he closed his eyes, he could see you so easily, around town, with your friends, in your bed, fast asleep and safe from the world. He liked those little moments best, when it was just you and him. When you shivered under the covers, he tucked you in. When your eyes flooded like little faucets, he wiped the water away. He sat next to you for hours and hours, never bored, not once. And when he had to go, he kissed your forehead, just like family did, before heading back Home again.

Oh, Wally wasn't stupid. He'd done a bad thing. But maybe, it was okay to do something bad, if it meant something good would come out of it?

And Wally - Wally loved you so much. So much more than anyone you knew back there. How to show it, he didn't know. How to make you feel it, he wasn't sure either. But there had to be a way, right? Someday you'd love him too, just as much as he loved you.

He had to keep telling himself that. If he didn't, he might do something scary. Something bad. And he couldn't eat your memories away for good, not like the others. He could eat and eat and eat, but yours always, always, came back.

Wally thought about the look on your face, how you trembled and your eyes got all wet and scared. He smiled, even though it was sad. Maybe that was his fault. Maybe he didn't want you to forget. It was wrong but… he liked it, when you were scared. Your fear tasted so, so good…

The sun slipped down the sky and you would crawl into bed after everyone else did. And when you did, he would be waiting. 

[cammslush]

Can I please request a Yandere Wanderer x Reader in which the Wanderer meets the reincarnation of his lover from when he was still Kabukimono

This is my first time doing a request like this, I hope it's up to your standards 🥲

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Content warning(s): Yandere themes, angst (death), mention of blood

Let me know if I missed anything

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Mortals. They all have the exact same fragility. They are born, they live, grow old, and then die.

"Promise me…? That you won't leave me or betray me like everyone else? Please…?"

There was this mortal that the kabukimono met. The same kind of mortal that would live, grow old, and eventually die all the same. The only, only difference between this mortal and the rest…was the fact that he couldn't help but feel some sort indescribable feeling of fondness towards them.

Such a precious mortal, but he doesn't even know the reason why. Is it the fact that they treated him with so much of their golden heart of kindness? Is it the fact that they were the one who stayed with him the longest amount of time? (Yes, he counted.)

That question he asked the mortal sounded so strange. They couldn't fully grasp the true meaning behind those words. They thought what he meant by "betray" was leaving him for someone else.

"Of course. I promise I will never leave your side!"

No one had any idea how absolutely elated he was to hear those words.

.

.

.

Eventually though, the expected occured.

As much as the poor, heartbroken kabukimono deluded himself into thinking:

"This must be one of your stupid pranks again. Either that, or you stayed up all night working at Mikage Furnace again…"

…Right?

But upon seeing how the mortal didn't open their eyes and tell him something along the lines of 'You saw right through me!' while flashing that adorably cheeky grin, he began to have his doubts.

"Hey…You said you wouldn't leave me, right?"

He shook the mortal's limp body. No matter how much he shook, their eyes never managed to open.

"But I, I love you so much! You…you can't do this to me…!"

A tiny stream of blood trickled down from the mortal's mouth.

"...Why…?"

Puppets do not have hearts.

So then, what exactly is this unbearable pain in his chest, where a human's heart is meant to be? Why does it hurt so much? Is he going to die too?

"...Why did you lie to me…?"

All he wanted was to do exactly as he saw humans do. Fall in love, marry, and finally live together forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, until the end of time…

He just wants to see that precious face every morning he wakes up, that charming smile that always lifts his spirits whenever something awful happens, that alluring voice that reminds him that you will always be right there…

Was that so much to ask?!

…..

….

…

..

.

Padisarahs grew beautifully with the vivid green blades of grass along the streets of Sumeru City. It was currently their blooming season, so Sumeru had received no shortage of tourists who wanted to take in the beautiful and enchanting scenery.

You were one of those tourists who hailed all the way from Inazuma, but besides sightseeing the pretty flowers and trees, you came for another reason.

You were told the cuisine in Sumeru are mainly focused on spice, mostly due to the fact that many plants in Sumeru have spices that can be cooked for extra flavour in a dish. In contrast, Inazuma's food are usually more to the comforting, bland-ish taste.

You just had to take this opportunity to try some of their food. That is what most tourists do when they visit an unfamiliar place, right? They say food is the most welcoming part of a nation.

"You can find lots of herbs and spices in the Grand Bazaar, maybe even the chance to sample some dishes if you're lucky enough. Go there and have some fun, maybe."

Conveniently, you had a Sumerian pen pal willing to share some interesting information.

"In fact, maybe I can meet you there. Don't get your hopes too high, though. The Grand Bazaar is an annoyingly crowded place."

This pen pal of yours is one of the people who sort of got you interested in seeing what Sumeru's spices are all about.

"But I wouldn't recommend you try too much. They kind of suck, in my opinion. There's so much of the spice flavour in every dish, you can't even taste anything else."

Yeah…they made you interested purely because they said they didn't like it.

"Still, do whatever you want. Knock yourself out."

So here you were, in the bustling Grand Bazaar!

Given that it's the Padisarah's blooming season, one could see the pretty petals all over the place. "But also, Padisarah buds can be processed into spices too, so you'll see a lot of people selling them at this time." That is what your knowledgeable pen pal told you.

Already you could smell the sharp, spicy scent that wafted throughout the whole underground market, but you could also feel every merchant smiling even while working hard to attract customers.

…Why does it feel like you've seen a similar sight before?

People working hard to the best of their abilities, trying to provide for their families, but they all still have such happy, friendly faces…

Why does it all look so nostalgic? So distant? …It's not like Inazuma doesn't have an atmosphere like this.

"Hey there, miss! Come over here!" A merchant called you over to his stall, hoping you would purchase some goods, "I haven't seen you around before. Are you a tourist? The Padisarah blooming season has provided lots of beloved Sumerian spices…"

.

.

.

Damn it, why didn't it ever cross his mind to suggest something like a stupid greeting signal so that he knows who exactly he's looking for?

It was all that Dendro Archon's idea for him to get a pen pal that he can talk to so that he doesn't "feel lonely" anymore or "become antisocial". He still has ability to socialize normally with other people, thank you very much. Isn't she the one who should leave her sanctuary once in a while instead?

It was all thanks to Nahida that now he…

"Where the hell are you, (Y/N)?"

…was now desperately trying to find a fragile mortal who could very well get lost in the huge marketplace. But don't get it twisted, Nahida. It's because he's pretty much responsible for the safety of the person he asked to come here.

No, no, it's definitely not because he has developed any sort of fondness.

Mortals. They all have the exact same fragility. They are born, they live, grow old, and then die.

Why should he care deeply about yet another measly human?

Your name was all he had to go off of, but he would sound like an undercover matra if he kept going around asking "Have you seen a person called (Y/N) nearby?", or "Hey, did you see anyone who looks like they have the name (Y/N) around here?"

"One portion of Biryani rice for take away, thank you," the Wanderer placed the needed Mora on the stall table before the owner even realized he was there, "With extra spices, too."

"Oh, coming right up!"

"Also, have you heard anyone named (Y/N) come by here?" Damn…he asked the question anyway.

A familiar voice appeared behind him,

"(Y/N)? That's my name,"

.

.

.

"...!"

The Wanderer almost fell to his knees with how hard his heart pounded against his chest upon seeing your face. He felt the need to pinch your soft cheek, just to make sure that you weren't just part of his delusional imagination. You're real?

Right…his heart. He does have a heart now. It's beating so hard, he might just faint.

"You are…"

The exact same look of confusion on that mortal's face back when they saw a homeless, barefeet kabukimono suddenly following them back to the Mikage Furnace. The exact same expression that just made him want to follow you wherever you went.

"Who are you?"

No one else wears a kimono like you. No one else speaks like you. No one else opens their mouth slightly agape in confusion like you. No other soul in Teyvat can capture your purity, your curiosity, the utter weight of your presence.

He couldn't stop staring at you. He suddenly found his memories rushing back again.

'Of course. I promise I will never leave your side!'

Yes, you didn't lie. You didn't betray him at all! You love him so much, don't you? After all this time, you finally came right back to find him, as if you couldn't get more precious.

"I'm your…"

You found arms slowly wrapped around your body in a tight embrace, as you stood frozen in place.

"...pen pal."

"O-Ohh…!" You didn't know this pen pal of yours likes hugs so much, "Hey, nice to finally meet you too!"

The Wanderer was physically unable to let you go, after you tried to leave his embrace by stepping back. His arms clung around your body so tightly, like he was a General Crab from Inazuma. "Um…I get that you might like hugs, but, we're in public…?"

No.

He must let everyone know that you belong to him. You belonged to him 400 years ago, and you still do right now.

Nahida, are you listening?

Even the gods don't have a say on whether his lifelong darling gets to live or die. Not anymore.

"I really missed you."

"...Huh?"

Now he can finally complete what had begun all the way back then! Fall in love, marry, and finally live together forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, until the end of time…

You said it yourself. You will never leave his side, right?

Stop trying to run away.

[harryissuchalittleshit]

The next gen kids and...

- who they look like the most (which parent)?

- who are they like the most when it comes to personality (which parent)?

- who (except their parents) are they simillar to?

Victoire

Victoire looks a lot like Fleur when she’s younger and grows to look like her Tante Gabrielle, especially after having children. She’s tall and beautiful, and she grows into her curves and figure.

I would say her personality is a lot like Bill’s and he hates it lol. She’s a rebel with a cause and also a mother hen to her siblings. She does come off as a bit standoffish like Fleur can, but she means well in the end.

I would say she is the most like Ginny, headstrong and stubborn and not afraid to fight for her own rights and happiness.

Dominique

She looks so much like Fleur, just throw on some freckles and a wild mass of red curls she likes to call her lion mane. She is tiny and is often mistaken for being the premee baby of her siblings, not the one that was over ten pounds.

She is just like Bill, a Weasley through and through. She makes fast and rash decisions and it does bite her in the ass, but she grows from it

Speaking of which, I would say she is most like Percy. When it comes down to it, he is defined by his two biggest moments in canon, leaving and coming back. Dominique is made of the same stuff, fitting for the godfather/goddaughter duo

Louis

If you held up a photo of Louis and Bill at sixteen, even Molly would have trouble telling who was who.

He is quiet and calm and delicate, Fleur’s baby through and through. He loves art and to dance and to live his life the way he wants to, even if he has to burn some bridges

Not only is he named after Charlie, they are great friends and pen pals. Louis takes after Charlie like a duck to water and they both enjoy it

Molly

She looks like Audrey, but with those Weasley freckles and brown eyes and that unmistakable shade of gingery-orange hair. Really she and Lucy are the perfect mix of their parents

Molly is so bright and happy and hopeful, very much like her mother and the Hufflepuffs she finds kinship with. She has had so much pain and sadness thrown on her that she needs some happiness and lightness in her life

She’s like George, they both have this warmth and happiness they can bring out of themselves while also holding onto a deep trauma

Lucy

She looks like Percy the same way Molly looks like Audrey. She does have Audrey’s blue eyes but Percy’s eyesight and she does tend to walk a little taller than she really is, but sometimes she needs that extra confidence

Lucy is very emotional, she’ll cry at the drop of a pin and her moods change so quickly from happy to sad to confused to happy to angry, she tends to just let everything out because for so long Molly didn’t or couldn’t

Lucy takes after her “Uncle” Oliver Wood, one of her dad’s closest friends and quite the emotional man (when it comes to his Quidditch team lol)

Freddie

He looks like George, a bit tanner and a little taller, but he looks just like George.

Freddie is a bit troublesome, but not as bad as his dad. He’s playful and silly, but has a tendency to doubt himself at times. He loves deeply and fiercely and will fight for those he does love. He’s a good son to his parents even if he made them grandparents much too young

He takes after Ron really, his confidence goes up and down and he can crack a good joke while being in love with the smartest girl he knows

Roxanne

She looks like her Aunt Roxie, but with some dark red curls she loves to braid and play with

Like her brother she is a bit troublesome and does have some confidence issues. Her issues manifest into a horrible eating disorder and an abusive relationship, but through a lot of work and love she comes out on top

I really feel like she takes after Hermione, she’s stubborn and headstrong and used to being listened to as the smartest person in the room, but her insecurities do hold her back at times

Rose

She looks like Ron, red hair and blue eyes, freckles and that playful smile, but Hermione’s curls and her short stature

Her personality is a great mix of her parents, the good and the bad. She also tends to mother hen her cousins, which they jump on and take advantage of at times

She takes after Harry, he’s her godfather and uncle and in many ways her third parent. She learns so much from him and he’s a great source of comfort to her

Hugo

He looks like Hermione, but he does have the Weasley red hair and he’s sooo tall, the tallest of the Weasley grandsons with only Louis within inches of him

He’s happy, he’s hyper, he loves to have fun and joke around but come exam times, his head is in the books and won’t come out until it’s all over. He is very competitive, but who can blame him when he wants to be the smartest person despite his set backs

He’s like Fred, funny and sweet but sometimes with a mean streak that he hates and a hyperness that holds him back until he overcomes it

James

James is the perfect mix of Harry and Ginny, he has the messy red hair and tan skin and brown eyes and freckles and lanky limbs that are both Potter and Weasley

He is definitely a goof ball, but also has a heart of gold. He is protective and loving and often doesn’t think before he talks, but it doesn’t matter because he’s so good and honest to those he loves. He has made his mistakes, but he honors them and lives up to his names and the men his mother named him after

He is very much like Bill, taking the weight of all the family in his shoulders with pride and love even if he sometimes puts his foot in his mouth

Al

He looks just like Harry, but he had freckles on his nose and cheeks and it reminds Ginny of Fred. She will never compare her second son’s looks to Harry, always her brothers

Al is dramatic and moody and always rolling his eyes, but he loves his family and gets along with everyone despite his dramatics. Rose is his ride or die and she is the reason he made it to adulthood and he knows it

Honestly, I want to say he’s most like Ginny, but if I can’t pick a parent I would say Percy. He is a bit high strung and prideful, he’s ambitious and wanting from the world, but his family comes first over and over and over again

Lily

Merlin she looks like Ginny, she has hazel eyes like her grandfather James and can’t see anything closer than her outstretched hand without her glasses, but honestly she and Ginny could be twins if they were the same age

She is a bit of a brat, being the only girl in her immediate family and then the youngest granddaughter, she takes full advantage of being the baby. But she does grow up and levels out and becomes more than just her wants. She ends up finding a peacefulness in being unknown and called out on her more selfish behavior, and it’s good for her to see reality a bit

He takes after her Grandad Arthur, taking interest in something small but oh so important to her and finding her own ways to be brave and just in front of not only herself and others. She also takes a bit of happiness in hiding away at times, even if she’s always watching

Bonus:

Scorpius

He looks like Draco, but Astoria’s features have made there way in. It’s in the slight tan of his skin tone and the curls of his white blond hair, but otherwise he is all Malfoy

He is literally the kindest and sweetest person, sure he’s also ambitious and cunning, but people notice his presence through his polite and kind demeanor

He takes after Theodore Nott, who has proven himself to be kind and wholesome and a great father. He loves every lost child that comes into his home and has made his home open and accessible to anyone that needs a place to stay, but especially his children’s friends