#I don’t remember if I put the words ‘want to get��� in that sentence whoops

[chilfucked]

i need to kiss him on the lips

[desperatecheesecubes]

So back in the day in 7th grade our English teacher had the Gifted Kids in his class make read The Outsiders and then he wanted us to make a short movie based on it and all four of us (there were only four in our grade in the program) has to contribute. I was big into making AMVs at the time so I knew basic video editing and in an effort to not make a fool of myself I front of the other three who were all in the popular crowd I volunteered to edit it. Anyway I never heard of any plans to make this fucker until I came into class one day to see it being played and my name in the credits. I got an A for work I didn’t do because the other kids didn’t like me enough to work with me. I wasn’t even upset i was excluded that’s the easiest A I’ve ever gotten

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

AAAA are you planning on continuing the "How They Kiss" series? If so could you please do my sweet baby Hitoshi next? :cccc

Ooooo yessss - I've been wanting to write some Hitoshi fic for a while!! 💜

Shinsou x Reader | Headcannon: How Hitoshi Shinsou Kisses 💋

The first time Hitoshi kisses you – you totally don’t see it coming. It happens in the library on a quiet Sunday afternoon. Hitoshi is sitting in your favorite spot of the city's library – a cozy corner hidden from view behind the oversized art book section. He’s dragged two large beanbag chairs into the tiny space, waiting for you to join him as he studies for an upcoming Pro hero rescue certification exam. He’s flipping through flashcards when you arrive bearing a purple travel mug filled with his favorite caffeinated beverage. You know your friend is a chronic insomniac – with his permanently baggy eyes and constant yawns - so you decided to get him a refillable mug so he can keep his coffee close throughout exam week. You’ve stuck a cute sticker of a black cat with big eyes to the side of the mug, knowing his TikTok algorithm is almost exclusively cat videos.

“’Toshiiiiii!” You warble quietly as you drop your school bag next to your beanbag chair. “I brought you a ‘lil treat for studying so hard!”

Hitoshi looks up in surprise, his forehead still wrinkled in concentration. He puts down his flash cards and when he realizes it’s you standing over him, he smiles easily. Things have always been like this between the two of you – soft and comfortable. 

“You brought me something?” He instantly locks on to the steaming mug of coffee, his eyes crinkling into a smile when he sees the cat sticker. “Is that the cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“Yup!” you hand him the cup as you plop down into your chair and start shuffling through your bag for your notes. “You told me it was your favorite movie as a kid, so I found a little sticker of Gigi on Etsy.”

After a few moments of digging through your bag, you finally find the sheaf of notes you’re looking for and you yank them out – sheets of paper flying all around you. “Whoops!” You hastily gather the papers back into a neat stack.

When you finally look up, you meet Hitoshi’s eyes – he’s giving you an intense, searching look. His eyes are wide, and there’s a soft pink blush across the high points of his cheeks. He absentmindedly smooths a hand through his wild hair, seemingly lost for words.

“What?” You say, a little startled at the sudden tense atmosphere. “Everything okay? Is that not your preferred flavor of coffee?”

“Of course you remembered my favorite flavor.” His voice a quiet rumble and seems to catch in his throat.

You swallow, suddenly feeling hot around the collar as he continues to gaze at you through those bright violet eyes. You can see him biting back his next sentence, seemingly steeling himself to say something.

After a few moments, he takes a steadying breath and his eyes sparkle with a look of resolve. Hitoshi softly places the hot mug of coffee on the ground before leaning towards you. Instantly, he’s a breath away from your face – his delicate features magnified as he tilts his face towards yours.

“You’re just so…” He whispers, moving to brush his thumb against your cheek. Your skin feels like it’s blooming with tiger lilies at the contact. “…sweet.” His tired eyes flutter shut and he leans into you – guiding your lips to his.

The first kiss is feather light – tentative. He wants to make sure you want him back – he needs you to want him with the same deep intensity he’s been feeling in his gut for you for so long. His lips are impossibly soft and taste like a light berry lip balm, and you find the flavor absolutely delicious. When you respond eagerly he smiles into the kiss, blissful. How lucky is he to get to kiss your pretty face?

Hitoshi climbs into the beanbag chair with you deftly, moving his hands to cradle your face. He moves his mouth against yours slowly, purposefully – almost lazily. It’s such a Shinsou way of kissing that it makes you giggle.

“Hey, now.” He breaks the kiss, bringing his forehead to yours as he takes a shaky breath. “Is my kissing that bad?” He’s smiling, but you can tell he’s the tiniest bit nervous for your answer.

You lean in to kiss him again and he pulls back, his lips just out of reach – teasing.

“Your technique can use some refining. But I know someone who can help you practice.” You grin, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him back in for more. He loves that – the banter, the ways you are able to both make him feel comfortable and keep him on his toes. He deepens the kiss, and you know it will be a while before you get back to studying. His flash cards lay abandoned on the floor by your stack of notes.

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

After that, he’s hooked on you. Any trace of nervousness is nonexistent. In just one afternoon, Hitoshi Shinsou has become a lean, mean, make out machine. He absolutely cannot be stopped. He kisses you everywhere he can – in the library, in dark corners of your favorite bar, at the convenience store. He’s constantly trying to sneak away with you so he can crash your lips together in that way that makes his brain feel all blissed out and fuzzy.

I think we’ve all seen just how much determination Hitoshi has – it takes a lot of unwavering dedication to claim a spot in the hero course. He’s just as determined to figure out how you like to be kissed. He pays attention to what makes your pulse race – maybe he kissed your neck a certain way and you moaned? He’s filing that away in his brain so he can do it again and again and again. You don’t like it when he bites your lower lip? He takes note and never does it that way again. He’s committed to figuring out exactly what makes you tick and how he can maximize your pleasure every time. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have the affections of someone like you – someone so sweet and gorgeous and goddamn perfect.

Of course, once he realizes you find him irresistible – he’s smug AF. He becomes such a goddamn tease. You’ll get a rare private moment and move in to kiss him, only for him to dodge your advances until your lips form a disappointed pout. He absolutely revels in how much you want him and loves to build up the tension between the two of you. He’ll kiss you playfully on the cheeks before your disappointed look causes him to concede. “Sorry, Sweetheart.” He says in his low, gravely whisper. “You know I love to tease.” And then he’ll kiss you with as much passion as he can muster, until your legs turn to jello. After all – it’s not in a hero’s nature to do anything half-assed.

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

Thanks so much for reading!!

Interested in some ~smuttier~ Shinsou content!? Check out my story:

Never Too Tired To Love You💜

My Master List! 💜

[jaemsljn]

beautiful boy | M.L

-

A/N: i saw a video of this baby getting shots and his dad was singing to him to distract him, the baby didn’t even cry and i was like !!mark!!!! mark lee!! so i hope you enjoy my dad mark brain rot (i tried to avoid gendered terms for the reader or any physical description but lmk if there are any mistakes) this is unedited omg also the nurse calls mark “dad” a few times it's weird but nurses do that shit during baby appointments .. (the song is beautiful boy by John Lennon)

PAIRING: mark x gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT: 981

GENRE: fluff, angst if you squint

WARNINGS: Needles!!

“Babe, relax, I think you’re more stressed than he is.”

You pull your eyes away from the nurse preparing the needle and instead meet the gaze of your husband. You glance down at your son in his arms, who is indeed, far more relaxed than you.

“I’m just nervous. These are his first vaccinations and I feel like a terrible parent just bringing him here to get stabbed.”

Mark lets out a chuckle in front of you but upon seeing the affronted look on your face he quickly covers it up with a cough.

“I’m serious Mark! It sounds stupid and I know this is better for him in the long run but I just feel so guilty. What if he inherited my phobia of needles? and then he’ll forever hate me for forcing him to get a bunch of shots.”

You catch the quick upturn on Mark’s lips before he speaks, “Listen I get what you mean okay? It’s sucks having to let your kid get hurt but it really is for his own good. Imagine how much worse he would feel if he got Polio? or whooping cough?”

The nurse rolls her cart to stand beside you and your husband, you’d nearly forgotten she was in the room.

“Dad’s right you know? and I can promise you Baby’s not gonna remember any of this. Plus, I think he’s just happy he’s got his parents here with him, even if it’s scary.”

You gently nod at her words, feeling a bit more comforted.

“You’re doing great I promise, no parent likes taking their kids for vaccinations but it just shows that you’re a good one because you’re doing it anyway.”

You thanked her before looking back over to your husband. When your eyes met his you found complete adoration on his face as he stared at you. That soft smile and that tender look in his eyes that he only seems to get when he looks at you or your baby boy.

what.

you mouth to him, not wanting to be too cheesy in front of this poor nurse.

I just love you.

He mouths back. your heart grows impossibly more at the undying love the man in front of you has for you.

You’re interrupted from your love fest by the nurse clearing her throat.

“Alright, dad you ready? I’m gonna have you keep holding him like you are. Just a regular cradle and I’ll inject the shot in his upper thigh. Make sure to be ready to hold him more firmly if he tries to wiggle away. Oh! and don’t be shocked if he starts to cry, it’s completely normal.”

She looks at both of you with the last sentence and your heart breaks all over again imagining Mark having to hold Toby down while he cries.

The nurse kneels in front of Mark, cleaning your son's leg with an alcohol pad. Toby jumps a little at the coldness of the antiseptic and looks like he’s about to cry from the shock to his system. Before he's able to let out a single whine Mark is quick to distract him.

“Hey, dude you’re okay. it’s just a little cold. Daddy’s right here baby I got you.” You’re shocked at the way Toby immediately settles, smiling up at his dad like he hangs the stars in the sky (it seems he got at least one thing from you)

as the nurse reproaches with the needle and squeezes Toby’s chunky little thighs between her fingers you feel your heart drop into your stomach. Normally you’d be over there trying to comfort your baby as well but honestly, your nerves would probably make toby more scared.

Before the nurse can even push the needle in Mark is already distracting your baby boy. He puts his face close to his nuzzling their noses together, the most adorable grin on his face before he begins to sing.

“Close your eyes

Have no fear

The monsters gone

He’s on the run

and your daddy’s here.”

The nurse pushes the needle in.

“Beautiful beautiful beautiful,

beautiful boy.”

You see Toby twitch when the nurse injects the needle but you’re shocked at the fact he never breaks eye contact with Mark or loses that little grin on his face.

At that moment you think you’ve fallen even more in love with Mark Lee.

The nurse pulls the needle out, still not even a whine from Toby. Mark immediately begins to praise him. Telling him how well he did and how much daddy loves him.

You’re almost in shock at how well Mark handled that. He has to have some supernatural power to have been able to keep the baby’s attention through that. It seems the nurse had the same thought because she soon chimed in as she places a cute little kitty bandaid on his leg, “You’re a natural at that Dad! I’m honestly shocked a little, I’ve never seen a baby handle a shot so well. Even the best cry at least a little, but he was smiling the whole way through.” She finishes placing the bandaid on and turns to you, “you’re very lucky.”

You grin at her before speaking, “Boy don’t I know it.”

You take careful steps towards your two boys and kneel in front of them. You place a gentle hand on Toby’s forehead, who’s still smiling up at his dad.

“You’re fucking amazing do you know that?”

Mark lets out a bashful chuckle at your words.

“I mean, I do have to be pretty great to deserve somebody like you. But seriously babe I know that was hard for you, I’m proud of you for sticking through it.”

You elected not to speak and just leaned in to kiss your husband. Home will always be with Mark's skin on yours, and your sweet baby boy in one of your arms.

[children-of-subcon]

So uh, turns out I messed up the last one on @twipsai‘s request! So! Here’s what they actually meant :D

😈-Villainify a protagonist (for Captor)

😇-Heroify a villain (for Muriel)

While I was coloring this I was wondering why Captor looked so familiar, and then I realized... I accidentally turned her into a Mimikyu (ס_ס;;) Whoops... I guess villain = gamer girl?

Anyways, I have a “few” ideas for this version! It ended up very long, since I covered both the past and present for both of them, so I’ll put them under the cut :)

Everything up to Mu imprisoning Lilly is the same, but this time Mu is convinced by her advisors to execute Lilly sooner, both to nip this whole “plot against the queen” thing in the bud, and so that Lilly isn’t left to rot for months on end. At this point, Mu is not far gone enough to be apathetic towards her sister’s death, and goes into mourning rather than paranoia. She doesn’t start to imprison people willy-nilly. Due to this, her kingdom (while still upset because Lilly was so beloved), is not so much fearful of her as they are sympathetic, because at the end of the day Mu was 14. This also means that the Goofy Mafia goes free, and eventually Mu is informed that Lilly was actually planning a party. For HER. Mu becomes inconsolable, locking herself away in her room.

Lilly, meanwhile, had not had months to fester in grief, and was still somewhat in denial of the fact that her own sister declared her a traitor-- for no reason, in her eyes. When she was informed she would be executed, she was first shocked, and then... outraged. How DARE her SISTER send her to prison, not say a word to her for weeks, and then sentence her to death? How DARE Mu not even BOTHER to hear Lilly’s side of the story? But she was helpless as the guards escorted her to her death. She looked pleadingly into the crowd, begging someone, anyone, to speak out against all this... this NONSENSE. And the people. Did. Nothing.

A few weeks later, Lilly wakes up, eventually realizing she’s dead. Feeling betrayed and abandoned by everyone she loved, Lilly lashes out in rage, destroying most of the kingdom and exuding a suffocating miasma. (Kind of like the thing Blue Diamond from SU can do, but more lethal.) It’s sudden, and there are almost no escapees.

Present-day, Captor roams the forest somewhat aimlessly, with most of her memories fragmented. It’s frighteningly empty and quiet, and even more dead than usual. No ghosts dare to reside within. If she finds any intruders, she’ll attack straight away, because... well, she doesn’t really remember, but it’s what she usually does. She doesn’t try to trap people with her-- instead, she’s called “The Captor” because all those who enter the forest never come out.

Mu, on the other hand, in an attempt to right what she’s done in any way she can, has made the manor into a sort of safe-haven. All of the dwellers, spiders, fire spirits, anything that used to “live” in the forest now resides in that area. She’ll go out regularly to try and rescue any unfortunate souls that have wandered into the woods, such as, say, a crown wearing alien. She might need some help collecting ingredients for her “jams and jellies”, though. Don’t worry, they aren’t made of people or anything, but make sure not to drop them! They can be quite explosive. How else will she keep The Captor at bay?

Mu and Captor still argue, but instead of it being over who rules Subcon, they argue over who DOESN’T. Mu blames herself for the fall of Subcon, and refuses to be put in a position of power again, so she tries to get through to the Lilly she remembers so SHE can take charge. Captor... well, she doesn’t want to be the ruler because she remembers having a negative association with it, but she also remembers this red girl being the queen or something so that means she must be in charge, right?

Sorry this ended up so long! I always find AUs where the good characters are “bad” and vice versa super interesting, so I got a bit carried away with ideas. I’ve even made AUs like that of my own original works ^^” I guess I’ve kind of done that here, huh? I might expand on it further if I feel like... making an evil Prince or something. Or if someone sends another ask with this prompt! Feel free if you want to!

Bye :)

[ootahime]

what is utahime’s role in the future? — a prediction (manga spoilers)

part 1 (unedited)

I WAS ABOUT TO POST IT BUT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT AND I WAS SO HURT FR!!!!! I HAD REWRITE THIS ENTIRE THING </33

part 2 is here!

in this post, i will be analyzing the information we’ve been given about utahime so far to form a prediction about her future role in the jujutsu kaisen series. if you’re as interested in utahime’s character as i am, please feel free to keep reading :3 (i’ll also be talking about her relationship with gojo a bit too)

soukatsu_ on twt!

kaikaikitan on twt!

utahime iori is a semi-grade 1 sorcerer working as a student supervisor/teacher at kyoto jujutsu high school. she loves drinking beer and going to karaoke. she’s also close friends with shoko and she’s not particularly fond of gojo most of the time. what else do we know about her?

hates sweets (funny she’s the complete opposite of gojo)

she’s great at singing and it’s a huge part of her technique

squabbling with gojo became a reflex :3

everyone absolutely adores utahime

loves watching soccer and baseball

a terrible drunk (worse than naobito zenin)

gojo is her main source of stress

let’s dive into her personality and abilities!

chapter 65

before i get into it, i think it’d be best if i were to explain the timeline because a lot of people seem to be confused about this one particular thing. utahime is born on february 18th, 1987. contrary to popular belief, she is not 3 years older than gojo. it is november 2018 in the story because gojo was sealed on halloween. if gojo was born on december 7th, 1989, that would mean that right now, he is only 28 years old. he has yet to turn 29.

the year is 2007. gojo satoru is a second year at tokyo jujutsu high school. the japanese school year begins in april which suggests that gojo is only 17 at the time (even if it’s not april, it doesn’t look like winter yet so it’s unlikely that he’s already 18). utahime is 20 because it is past february. she is a 2nd grade sorcerer at the age of 20. that’s not bad at all!

chapter 65 introduces young utahime and mei on a mission together within a cursed site. in real time, they’ve been gone for two days which is a cause of concern for gojo, shoko, and geto because the two haven’t contacted anyone since the beginning of their mission.  the two begin to suspect something is wrong because the hallway markers they’ve set in place disappeared, and no matter how far they travel within the halls, the end is nowhere in sight.  mei theorizes that the cursed spirit is overlapping the space as they travel forward.  utahime agrees with this speculation and proposes a plan to escape the cursed spirit’s grasp by moving erratically.  notice how she says that if one of them should escape, they can try to attack from the outside or call for help.  if utahime was not capable of inflicting damage on anything then she would have told mei to escape and attack if she can while she waited to be rescued.  however, she didn’t.  she included herself in the sentence which leads me to believe that she is capable of going on the offense if needed.  

keep in mind that at this point in time, mei is a grade 1 sorcerer.  she is knowledgeable about all things involving jujutsu because she is experienced and skillful.  we can see this aspect of her character illustrated when she theorizes that the cursed spirit is messing with the space they’re in.  she chooses to go with utahime’s plan because she agrees that it’s the best action moving forward.  this verifies that utahime is an intelligent girl that’s able to get along with pretty much anyone.  

her intellect is demonstrated once again in chapter 79.  she was able to deduce the possibility of there being more than one traitor and the fact that one is probably a higher up.  she also narrowed down the mechamaru as the mole of kyoto not because he was acting suspicious but by process of elimination.  she thought thoroughly of his technique and how easy it would be for him to manipulate devices small enough to be undetectable.  

sure you can argue that she should already know all her students’ abilities and whatnot but you have to admit that it’s hard trying to sniff out the traitor when no one is acting suspicious.  in addition to that, how did she know that there was a traitor in the top brass?  i would have never guessed that tbh LOL (maybe bc im an idiot).

okay, now that we have established that she’s intelligent, let’s answer a more important question.  is utahime weak?

chapter 33

if gojo calls utahime weak, does that mean there is some truth to it?  well it is true that she is weaker than him because he’s the strongest and all.  in my opinion, he’s just teasing her.  he probably found that calling her weak is what really riles her up.  maybe i’ll talk about why he loves teasing her so much in a later post.  but anyway, gojo calls everybody and their mom weak.  he even said jogo was weak and we know how powerful that guy is.  gojo’s words alone do not indicate much about utahime’s power.  in fact, i don’t even think he has seen her use her technique yet.  he’s probably only ever heard of how it works.  this is what i think their conversation about her technique was like:

gojo: hm?  ur cursed technique is singing?  can u show me?

utahime: what!  no way!  

gojo: why not?

*one of the classmates tells him that she can only use her CT once in a while because it consumes a lot of energy*

gojo: hahaha!  u have to conserve cursed energy to use ur CT?  why are u so weak, utahime?

utahime: i!  am!  your!  senpai!  respect!  me!

what i’m trying to say is that gojo loves poking fun of people.  we should not believe him when he calls someone weak because compared to him, everyone is weak.  

this is a little off topic but let’s examine him telling her, “and you don’t have the nerves, utahime.”  i think he’s trying to say that there’s no way she’ll ever do something like that because she’s not the type to put her students in danger.  remember the soft expression and relieved smile on her lips when she said that she was glad the students were safe after the kyoto incident?  gojo was directly in front of her so not only did he hear her say that, but he could have seen the look on her face too.  even if he told her that she didn’t have the guts to betray the school to get on her nerves, he knew that utahime simply cared too much about the students so he ruled her out as a suspect right away.  this is why he ultimately decided to confide in her and ask her to help him.  

i’m a person who loves over-analyzing things.  i really enjoy the dynamic between gojo and utahime.  they’ve known each other for more than 11 years and although they always bicker, there is an unspoken feeling of trust between the two.  gojo can do anything and everything by himself because he is truly the strongest person alive, but he still knows when to rely on others.  him deciding to entrust utahime with such a job implies that he believes in utahime’s abilities.

chapter 52

she’s not using any cursed energy here--not to our knowledge at least.  this is just pure skill.  she was able to swiftly evade the swing from haruta.  he was surprised himself considering the fact that he was right behind her.  how do we know her CT isn’t speed?  after haruta swung at her, we can see that some of her hair got cut off.  if she was using her CT then speed should be her specialty.  she should have been able to completely avoid the attack altogether but she didn’t.  of course this isn’t a wow moment because jujutsu sorcerers should know how to dodge attacks, however, i’m just trying to get the point across that she’s not a defenseless person without her technique or others.  let’s not forget that semi-grade 1 isn’t a weak rank either.  you can’t simply be recommended to be a grade 1 sorcerer if you only can support others.  

chapter 48

i want to bring up this panel. it suggests that utahime and takuma are sorcerers who have not experienced black flash and therefore, do not understand the essence of cursed energy as well as those who have like gojo and nanami.  i find it strange how takuma and utahime were used to represent sorcerers who haven’t experienced it yet.  is the purpose to demonstrate that there is a clear difference in skill between adult sorcerers like utahime and takuma compared to gojo and nanami?  i could be nitpicking but the order of todo’s statement doesn’t line up with the sorcerers being shown.  let me explain in depth.  todo starts off by saying, “for those who have experienced black flash as compared to those who have not...” wouldn’t it make more sense to show gojo and nanami on the right side to represent sorcerers who have experienced black flash?  that was mentioned first, after all.  gojo and nanami should appear when todo says “for those who have experience black flash” while utahime and takuma should be shown right after to personify the second part, “as compared to those who have not.”  i’m just making it more complicated than it actually is LOLOL i’m sure it really just means they haven’t experienced black flash yet, which is completely fine.  i also find it fascinating how they used utahime to contrast gojo.  with nanami and takuma it makes sense.  nanami is someone takuma looks up to, he wants to gain nanami’s approval before he deems himself worthy of a promotion. what about utahime and gojo?  what’s the purpose of comparing those two together when it’s obvious that gojo knows more about the essence of cursed energy more than anyone else?  i might be delusional whoops

----

let me know what you guys think?  this is only a part 1 so i haven’t gotten around to answering the question.  i’m pretty much done with the second part, i just need to revise it a little.  i think after i post part 2, i’ll try to interpret all the gojo and utahime moments in the manga >.<

[novamirmirsblog]

K.I.S.S.I.N.G

Word count: 1232

Genre: floofy fluff

Request: No ;3

Warnings: None that I can think of? Lemme know if there is tho :)

Based on this quote even though it has so little to do with the actual story XD - “I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

You were well and truly trapped. The mission had gone south, one bad call after another had led you to where you were presently. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. It's why SHIELD had decided to send only you, Natasha, and Wanda - leaving a lower-level agent in charge of the plane. It was a test run for you as you were the newest on the team and a refresher for Wanda, making sure her team skills were up to scratch with Natasha there as a glorified babysitter. The building was supposed to be mostly abandoned, a few HYDRA goons here and there to get target practice in but that was it.

Of course SHIELD had to have sent you in with bad information. This was your time to shine, to perform to the best of your abilities so a certain spy might notice you. Considering you were surrounded by some of the best in the business and a literal mindreader, you were quite proud that your little crush had gone unnoticed. Sure, you couldn't string more than two sentences together when Natasha spoke to you directly but she hopefully just thought you were a social recluse.

"Damn it. Did they not know they don't literally have to be a damned hydra. It's okay for one head to be chopped off and another not grow back." You spoke into your earpiece as you slit another hydra throat.

Chuckles rang back into your ear and for a second you forgot how to breathe. Natasha's gruff bark of laughter was the prettiest thing you'd ever heard.

Oh man. You had it bad.

You had it so bad that you briefly forgot you were behind enemy lines. That was, at least, until a bullet whizzed past your ear. That snapped you out of your daze pretty quickly. Not fast enough for you to dodge the bullet coming straight for your shoulder though. The pain that rippled through you was hot but not as hot as the annoyance of being shot at was. You sent a single bullet straight through the head of the goon who shot you first.

"Guys I've got some good news and some bad news."

"If you've got bullet holes in that new suit, Tony is literally going to kill you." Wanda spoke, her accent softening the words.

"Well, I guess I better start telling you what kind of flower arrangements I'd like for my funeral." You joked as you slowly made it to the extraction point.

"Don't die agent y/l/n"

"Damn. So formal. Lighten up Natty, I won't make you do a speech if you don't want to. I will, however, make sure Wanda mentions that in my final hours, you were so very cold and distant." Apparently being shot at gave you the confidence boost you very much needed in order to actually speak to Natasha.

"Hang on, I remember you literally stabbed Clint's hand when he called you Tashie and he's known you for years."

"Well, Clint wasn't delirious with bloodloss Wanda." A few more shots went off. "Head to the extraction point you two. We got what we came for."

Once we were all on the jet, Natasha started bandaging up your wound, careful not to touch it unnecessarily.

“I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

"Wow. Thank you y/n Don't blame the guy who shot you, blame the person trying to fix you up. You know if you would just sit still..."

You suddenly noticed how close you were to Natasha's plump lips. How easy it would be to just lean in slightly and capture them. With that in mind, you subconsciously began to move forward, feeling her lean in too, until a rough patch of turbulence placed some much-needed distance between you two. You could have sworn you heard Wanda mutter damn it but it was probably just your thoughts projecting.

~~~~~

By the time you had made it back to the tower, everyone had heard the news of how Natasha allowed you to live after calling her Natty.

"...even bandaged her up" Steve's voice echoed down the hallway as you, Wanda and Natasha made your way from the mission de-briefing. Maria had wanted you to go straight to medical but you had managed to convince her that not only was the job Natasha did good enough, but that Natasha was quite possibly in the wrong line of work considering her stitching was so good.

As you walked into the main living area, F.R.I.D.A.Y. started to play that "k.i.s.s.i.n.g" song that children sing.

"You are a CHILD TONY STARK!" Natasha shouted out. "I am going to kill him in the most painful ways possible."

"Well did you? Because from the interesting texts a young witch has sent, you came pretty close. " Tony sauntered out from an unknown location, standing in the center of the room with nothing but pyjama bottoms, a housecoat and a glass of what looked like whiskey. What happened next was pretty fast. Natasha launched herself at the billionaire. Steve tried to grab her midair as the whiskey came dangerously close to spilling over the sides of the glass. Natasha slid under Steve's legs and attached herself to Tony, putting him in a chokehold.

"One more word and you won't live to see another day."

You watched this all unfold and suddenly it dawned on you that perhaps the reason an international spy hadn't noticed your crush was because she was too focused on hiding her own.

"You're right you know." Wanda spoke quietly, watching Steve try to pry Natasha off a gasping Tony. "Literally everyone but you two could see that you have feelings for each other. We have bets going on. If you kiss her now, I win." She nudged me towards them with a wink "No pressure though. Although, if you were to help me win the bet, I'd split the money. All I really want are the bragging rites. Unless... that is you want Tony to win?"

You couldn't let Tony win. Over your cold dead body. With determination in your step, you walked over to where the supersoldier was still trying to save a now purple Tony. Natasha looked at you, loosening her hold just a fraction and you leaned in and kissed her. Sure, it was one of the most awkward positions you'd kissed someone in but it was worth it. Natasha let go of Tony instantly but only to wrap her arms around your neck and waist, pulling you deeper. Wanda clapping and whooping pulled the two of you from your trance. Your cheeks were as red as Natasha's hair and even the unflappable Natasha Romanoff was slowly turning the same shade as her hair.

"God damn it y/n You couldn't have waited a week." Tony threw his hands up in exasperation, a teasing look in his eye.

"Of course not. Wands had to win."

"I don't care what this is about. Come on y/n I'm taking you on a proper date. Right after we change out of these clothes." Natasha grabbed me by the hand.

She then stopped abruptly, dropping your hand "That is, if you want to?"

You picked her hand back up, smiling at her "Of course I do."

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Bliss

Pairing = FO! Poe x reader

Words = 6k (don’t look at me)

Summary = You watch your husband throw a knife, sparking 18+ thots

Warnings = SMUT (18+ only!) KNIFE PLAY, reader masturbation, fingering (f receiving), violence, like one non-graphic sentence of imaginary blood, but no actual blood (PLEASE message me if you wanna know more before reading and I’ll answer any questions you might have :) ) 

A/N 1 = This is basically pure smut and I’m sorry, it’s all from that training video

A/N 2 = You and Poe are married in the fic, and love each other. There is also discussion of the scene involving the knife. In real life, this discussion should be much longer, and less one-sided, going through details with much more depth. If you ever try knife play in real life, please never use the knife during actual sex in case of injury. You should also always have a first aid kit, and certain places of the body (the neck, inner wrists, groin area) should never come into contact with a sharp knife because of the high risk of lethal injury. In this fic they do it because it’s fiction. Please always do your research and make sure your partner does too, make sure you keep communicating and also that you trust the person you’re with. 

If you have any questions about the content of this fic before you read, send me a message, if you have questions about knife play, send me a message, I’ll be more than happy to talk about it!! (Actually I’ll talk about anything to anyone if you ever want to chat! ☺️)

Also PLEASE let me know if I missed any warnings!!

Posted to AO3

Masterlist 

***

“What do you think … Captain?”

You pause for effect before pulling out Poe’s rank. It’s a little too tough and impersonal for your tastes, usually preferring the purr, the rough and ready of ‘Sir’, but you know that Poe enjoys the rare occasion when you do use it, and if it means you get what you want, you’ll call him every name under the sun. Your husband’s brown eyes darken as you pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

You’re sat on his desk, far enough back that you can swing your legs a little, hands tucked under your thighs, while Poe relaxes in his seat, looking like work, all sharp angles and dark looks. He trimmed his beard in the refresher this morning, emphasising his jaw, and that perfect, pink mouth. You can’t wait to get him home so he can relax properly. He works far too hard for a thankless job in your opinion.

Anyway, in your defense, it was Poe who planted the seed of the idea in your head in the first place.

You knew Poe was proficient at fighting, and weaponry, and that his skill in a TIE fighter was unparalleled in the First Order, but you’d thought that his particular area of expertise was constrained to blasters and other long-distance weapons.

Not knives.

You were supposed to be the best at knives. After all, Poe had recruited you to work for the First Order after watching you take down some disrespectful asshole who had been twice your size in close quarters, a small hidden knife strapped in your boot being the deciding factor in your victory. All over a dispute of cheating.

It was a shame, really.

All that loss of life … for nothing. All that chaos, just breeding more chaos, and who was the real winner?

Poe had shown you how nice it felt to bring order. He’d shown you how nice a lot of things felt.

So you’d just assumed that Poe wasn’t as good with knives, and therefore wasn’t as disposed to use them. You’d never asked, merely enjoying the way his eyes lingered on you when you practiced your skills in training, and really enjoying the sex afterwards. And even after a year of marriage, it had never come up.

But last week, you and Poe had been among a larger group of officers fighting your way out of a Resistance base after blowing their central intelligence systems. You’d shot once, twice and then a third time at a particularly stubborn oncoming Rebel, finally hitting them in the stomach, causing them to double over in pain.

Stars, your new job had made you rusty. You’d have to practice using your blaster more.

You’d stood over the rebel to deliver a final shot to their face, taking them out of their misery and turned just in time to see Poe throwing his blaster to one side, smoke issuing from it, and pulling a small knife from a holster on his thigh. Your mouth dry, you’d continued to watch as, almost in slow motion, Poe had thrown the knife with deadly accuracy, the small silver flash burying itself into the Rebel’s exposed neck.

Fuck that was hot.

Why was that so hot?

The rebel had stood there with an expression of surprise, cocky bastard, blood already dribbling, a bright red stream running down their throat, but you just had eyes for Poe. You’d ignored the way the Rebel’s body slumped to the ground with a heavy finality, and moved forwards, suddenly desperate to feel Poe’s lips on yours.

Damn the Resistance, and damn the rebels.

You would kiss your husband, and you would kiss him right now.

Poe had turned, his eyes automatically sweeping for you, surprise in his eyes at first at how close you already were, but he’d allowed you to push him into the dusty wall, one of your hands looking for his and twinning your fingers together.

Your deadly hands, spun together for eternity.

Your other hand is automatically reaching for Poe’s neck, fingers grasping at his hair, pulling his lips towards yours. You can smell his sweat, the familiar scent pooling under his cologne, filling you with a sense of safety, even amongst the very-real danger the two of you are currently facing. His free hand is already gripping your hip, pulling your body towards him as if you weren’t as close as you could possibly be.

It’s moments like these that you think the two of you are made for each other. You couldn’t imagine needing to kiss anyone else in the middle of a mission, couldn’t imagine anyone else letting you do such a thing, couldn’t imagine anyone else wanting you the way Poe wants you. The way you want - no, need - him.

The way he needs you.

Even though your eyes are closed, you can still see how Poe’s fingers moved, causing the knife to fly out of his hands, even as they grip your hips, one of his legs pushing nicely between yours, canting upwards slightly towards the ache you’re already feeling.

The movement is replaying over and over again behind your eyelids, and you never want to forget it.

Poe’s mouth slots perfectly over yours, and he gasps into you when you pull on his hair slightly. He’d had it cut recently, and it’s still a touch too short for your liking, unable to properly tug unless you hold the curls on top of his head.

You take the opportunity to taste him, dipping your tongue into his mouth, and he lets you, lets you bite his tongue, as his beard tickles your skin, scratching deliciously. And then you bite his lip as you pull away, and he groans deep, hitting your body lower, warming you up.

But you don’t let yourself move against his thigh. Not now. Not yet. Not even as you move your mouth to his throat, where his salt and pepper beard gives way to tan skin, kissing him desperately. You don’t stop, even as your hands untangle, and Poe reaches for your holster, raising your blaster and letting off a shot in your ear. You keep kissing him, following the line of his beard up to his ear, nipping lightly at his lobe, ignoring the sounds of a body falling behind you.

And now he’s plastering kisses to your skin, wherever he can get his mouth, on your forehead, down your cheek, along your arm, only separating from you as he delicately kisses each of your fingers. There’s further swooping low in your belly as you look at him, kiss swollen lips, hooded eyelids, dark eyes.

And then your gaze is broken, other members of the First Order catching up to you, whooping and hollering in success. Their shouts are enough to make Poe reach for your hand again, holding it as he pulls the two of you back to his TIE fighter, back to safety and freedom.

But the image of Poe throwing a knife didn’t leave you, even after the mission, taking up most of your brain during the debrief, and even popping into your mind later that evening, before Poe joined you in bed, where you found your hands trailing fire over your body, pinching your nipples, as you imagine Poe pressing a cold knife into and around the flesh of your breasts.

You’re naked, and the room is cool, goosebumps prickling along your flesh despite that familiar heat spreading through your veins, slowly burning you up from the inside. You can feel sweat gathering despite the chill, along your hairline, your upper arms, your stomach.

Once you’d started you couldn’t stop, pressing your thighs together as you worked yourself up, fingers teasing your skin as you imagined Poe walking in, still in his uniform. He’d stop at the end of the bed and just watch you.

And then he’d lean over you, still watching you with those dark eyes, and take out that knife, just tracing it up your leg, gently pressing it into the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your pussy, and you pause, with your head tipped back on your pillow, mouth open, eyes closed, imagining the feeling.

Letting out a small whimper, you’d lowered your hand, dipping your fingers between your folds, and delicately traced around your clit, spreading the wetness that had gathered throughout the day around.

You’d settled into your familiar rhythm, slowly building the speed and pressure of your fingers on your clit, letting out little gasps when you hit the spot just right. And then your fantasy Poe opened his mouth, and you imagined him playing carelessly with the knife. “Put a finger inside yourself.”

You remember letting out a noise of agreement, not quite a word, inching your fingers further down, when your imaginary Poe clarified. “Just one, baby.”

You’d immediately lifted your head in protest, even though he wasn’t actually there, and you could have done what you had wanted to, but you’d obeyed. It’s part of the fun. You’d slid your middle finger in with little resistance, and closed your eyes in pleasure, your head falling back to your pillow.

You’d bitten your lip, muffled any quiet sounds that escaped you, imagining again and again and again how Poe would look holding that knife, ready to use it on you, carve the cold metal into your skin, not hard enough to hurt you, but enough that you can feel cool trails over hot skin.  

Your single finger was slowly pumping in and out of you, and you were so wet you could hear it in the silence of your bedroom, your small gasps gradually increasing in volume. When you thought you couldn’t bear it anymore, you’d imagined Poe telling you to “Insert another one baby.”

So you had, letting out a small moan as a second finger joined the first, and gasped out Poe’s name. It was easier than when Poe did it, your fingers being smaller than his, but you could still feel a slight stretch.

You’d kept moving your fingers, gradually circled faster, ground your hips down so your clit caught on your palm, curved your fingers inside yourself. Your breaths were coming faster now, shuddering through your chest as you imagined Poe trailing the ice-cold knife up your legs, getting closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, you imagined locking eyes with Poe, and he opened his mouth. “Cum for me, baby.” His voice was velvet, soft, but commanding and familiar as your toes started to curl. You couldn’t hear the noises coming from your mouth anymore, only dimly aware that you were moaning, the sound drowning out the squelch between your legs.

Your orgasm was a slow builder, and you remembered the last time Poe brought you to orgasm, how he whispered filthy praises in your ear as his cock dragged slowly in and out of you, coaxing you through it then as his imaginary doppelganger does now, watching you gush and spasm over your fingers, legs shaking in pleasure.

After you’d come, you’d lain there, panting on your bed, sweat cooling your skin. Languidly, you’d raised your fingers, cleaning them off with kitten licks, the tangy taste coating your tongue and wishing Poe would come to bed, he always enjoyed watching you clean up.

Your fantasy confirming just how into the idea of playing with a knife you were, you’d stewed over the idea a little further for a couple of days, imagining how it would actually feel, sure that in real life it would be different. You’d curiously pressed the blunt side of a knife on your inner forearm one day when you were alone in the kitchen, sending furtive glances towards the partially closed door. Technically it was nothing special, technically nothing exciting, not in that way, and it was the blunt side, but it had still sent a delicious shiver through you. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you trailed the cold metal up your arm, biting your lip as heat pooled low in your belly.

You even went so far to press the sharp point into your skin, stopping short of making yourself bleed, but enough you could see a small indentation in your skin. Your little ‘exercise’ cemented the idea further into your brain, the idea of something so dangerous being used in such a vulnerable position was intoxicating.

You’d taken your time, thinking over the idea, and carefully considering. You wanted to be sure of yourself before bringing the idea to Poe. He wouldn’t judge you for changing your mind, but still, it would be a little embarrassing to change your mind. Poe was careful with your boundaries, always checking in when the two of you went a little further than normal, and you knew that this would be no different.

All this had led to you coming to Poe’s office on your break and asking what he thought. He was considering it, as you knew he would, leaning back in his chair. His eyes are raking over you already, but you give him time, even though your palms are sweating and you’re sure your heart rate is through the roof.

It’s only when he moves, fingers twitching in their grasp of the chair that you react, leaning forwards, your feet swinging slightly at the motion.

“Ok,” he nods, and before you can fling yourself at him, he holds a hand up. “But. We have to establish some rules, like what kind of knife are we going to use?”

You nod, already pulling up the bag that had been resting on the floor, slumped over and forgotten in your excitement. You rummage around for a second, trying to find-

“Here!” You hold the knife out for Poe to take, grinning at the amusement in his eyes. “It’s blunt on both sides, you’d have to apply some pretty serious pressure if you wanted to do any damage.”

The knife is - and there’s really no other word for it - pretty, with a black blade, and decorated handle. It’s small, about 15 cm long, but the metal is heavy, and one that will stay cold for a long time. It had raised a few eyebrows when you’d asked for a pretty knife with two blunt edges, but you were a Dameron, and had some sway of your own. If you told those lower than you to obtain a specific knife discreetly and with no questions asked, so it happened.

Poe takes his time examining it, admiring it from all angles, shooting you another look, this time filled with pride.

“I did my research.” You flip your hair as if it was nothing, omitting how expensive the final bill had been, and how you’d charged it to your work account.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, still looking the knife over. Then he rests it in his lap, so he can roll up one of his sleeves, talking all the while. “Now tell me what you want me to do to you.”

So you do, explaining you’d quite like to be blindfolded but not restrained, to keep your colour system as the safeword, all while Poe is pressing the blade at different angles into his forearm, testing out different pressures.

When you pause, watching him, Poe glances up at you. “Go on.” Is all he says, and you nod, swallowing.

“I’d quite like it if you pulled the knife along my legs.” Your voice is quiet, but sure. “And maybe the same with my arms.” You pause, feeling nerves rising inside you and reminding yourself that this is your husband.

“I think… pressing the blade around my breasts would be sexy.” Poe pauses as he presses the flat edge of the blade into his forearm. “Just tracing around,” you continue, slightly braver now you have piqued Poe’s interest. “Maybe you could hold it against my throat? I don’t… I don’t know when, exactly, but I think it would be hot.”

You take a second, breathing deeper and you raise your chin to meet Poe’s gaze, feeling more confident as you continue. “Maybe you could hold it against my throat when you fuck me.” Poe’s gaze is fire, burning through you as he loosely holds your knife in his hands. “Maybe you could blindfold me and tell me that you wish the knife had a sharp end so you could carve your initials into my skin, showing that I belong to you.”

“And,” you start to move now, hopping off the desk so you can straddle Poe, easily plucking the knife from his hand, and looking down at it. “Maybe one day I can use it on you, and I can tell you how much I want to carve my initials into your skin.”

“Because we belong to each other,” Poe murmurs, his voice low. You nod in agreement, mouthing at his pulse point, and trailing sloppy kisses above the cut of his uniform. “I’d love that, sweetness.” His hands are running up and down your sides. “I love you.”

You just hum happily, content to be breathing in Poe’s scent, to feel surrounded by him. You’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and you just sag into Poe, the knife pressing slightly into your stomachs as you nose at his throat, unwilling to face the inevitable departure.

“What is it?” Poe’s voice is once again hard and forceful, impatient with whoever dared to interrupt.

“Sir?” The voice is young and you turn slightly, just enough to spy a young recruit in your peripheral view, not quite brave enough to enter the room, instead choosing to dither in the doorway, holding a number of files. “I’ve got these for you to sign.”

Poe just huffs, not bothering to address the recruit. You know what’s about to happen so you untangle yourself, before leaning over to grab one last kiss from Poe before the evening. It starts off innocently enough, a small peck on your husband’s lips as a goodbye, but then you back for another. This time his mouth is open as it meets yours, and you happily deepen it, despite the awkward angle that you have to hold yourself at. Your earlier conversation has fuelled your desire, revving you up, and the idea of waiting is hellish.

You taste all of Poe, moving one hand to his face, moving to feel the slight scratch of his beard underneath the pads of your fingers. His hand moves to cup your jaw, and you forget about the recruit standing in the doorway until there’s a slightly awkward shuffling in the corner.

So you break away, slowly, unwillingly, Poe’s mouth following even as you stand to your full height. “See you later,” you murmur, leaving your blunt knife in his lap, and pressing one more quick kiss to his cheek.

His hand catches yours as you leave, and he lowers his lips to your knuckles, soft lips juxtaposing with the harsh strands of his beard. “I love you.” They’re commonly said words between you, but they never lose their power, especially not when Poe says them, like you’re a goddess on a pedestal and he’s an unworthy sinner who wants nothing more than to worship at your feet. Said reverently, like it’s a privilege to love you.

The recruit is forgotten again as you look back down at Poe, still unable (or maybe unwilling, you’re not entirely sure) to tear yourself away. This time it’s a small, almost involuntary clearing of the throat that makes you duck down again for a kiss on the other cheek. “I love you too.”

Poe flashes you a quick smile, before all softness leaves his face and he turns to the files the recruit is holding out for him. You admire him for a second by the door, proud of the terror that Poe can instil in those below him so easily.

***

You’re lying on your bed when Poe enters the room. He’s already taken off his shirt in the refresher, exposing his chest, the warm glow of small lamps around the room making his chest look more golden than usual, as though he’d been touched by Midas. The belt holding his trousers up is slung low around his hips, and you can just see where his snail trail mixes into a darker bush, just peeking over the top of the fabric.

You’re wearing some of your favourite lingerie, bra matching your panties, straps criss-crossing your hips, and outlining your breasts. It’s soft against your skin, the satin material outlining your curves, allowing your nipples to poke through the flimsy fabric. Part of the reason that it’s your favourite is because Poe loves it so much.

You’d heard him enter your rooms, so the book in your hands is just for decoration, more concerned with the way you look resting among the pillows, upper body raised artfully against the headboard as you wait for your husband.

It still gives you a rush to call him that, and you idly wonder if it’ll ever fade.

He’s put his holster on, the one he wore on that mission, the strap doing nothing but emphasising his thigh. You recognise the handle peeking out of the shaft, and your mouth goes dry with excitement.

And Poe’s only looked at you, silent as he takes you in. Just his presence can have such an effect on you. When he does speak, his voice is hoarse, and your eyes flick down, admiring the already large bulge in his trousers. “Fuck baby.”

You swallow, your breath already coming faster, you look at Poe like it’s the first time, tracing the outline of his shoulders as if you don’t already know them by heart. He’s wearing his necklace, a familiar sight, the only change being that the ring that used to hang on his breast bone is now on your left hand, but Poe still never takes it off.

You plan on moving to Poe, plan to blow his mind before he can blow yours but before you can he’s already crawling on top of you, holding his weight on his forearms either side of you, dipping his head down to kiss you.

This kiss isn’t like the one in the office, more hungry, more urgent. There’s none of the calmness simmering between the surface, Poe’s let go of his control.

You automatically hook your legs around his waist, already canting your hips upwards as you grind on the seam of Poe’s trousers.

You separate your lips from Poe’s, moving down his throat, kissing, and biting as you go, beard scratching the skin on your face, pleasurable little bites of pain. When you can, you grab hold of his chain between your teeth, tugging on it slightly.

You move your hands up to bury your hands in the neat curls on top of Poe’s head, pulling in tandem with the chain.

And just like that, with a flash of fluid movement, the knife is pressed dangerously against the column of your throat, pushing your head back onto the pillows, forcing you to release the chain. It’s cold, and feels sharp, and Poe’s using it to force your chin back and up, pressing into your skin.

“Are you going to behave?” His voice is a growl.

You just grin at him, ignoring the thrills shooting up your spine, and the way your legs are tingling with excitement.

“Maybe you should use that knife and find out.”

Poe just rolls his eyes in response, fishing into his pocket as he leans back. “Put that on, sweetheart,” he instructs, tossing you a small square of black silk, your blindfold. “And lie back.” You do as you’re told, putting the blindfold on carefully, adjusting it around your hair for comfort, before scooting down the bed and lying back.

You close your eyes behind the blindfold, never enjoying the sensation of seeing darkness, and instead feeling like you’re floating as you wait for Poe to do something.

“Colour?”

Stars you can’t tell where he is.

“Green!” Your voice is embarrassingly desperate but you want to start and what is taking Poe so long? Why isn’t he touching you yet? You can hear him moving around the bed, feel the slight disturbances in the air, but you’re still not entirely sure where he is.

The first thing Poe does is pull at the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips, helping him pull them off, and then you wait. You can hear Poe breathing, but he doesn’t do anything for a moment and you’re free to let your imagination run.

Has he discarded them, and he’s just watching you? Admiring you? Or is he holding them up to his face, still in awe of how wet you get for him, smelling you, tasting you, without you even knowing? You’re wet, you can feel the heat gathering between your legs, but has it been enough to leak onto your panties?

And then the foot of the bed dips, Poe travelling up to straddle you, coming to a rest on your thighs. He sits there for a moment, not moving, and you keen for him, desperate for him to start doing anything.

You can’t see the look on his face, can only imagine his expression, and it’s driving you wild.

When the knife first touches your skin, it’s a shock, cold thrills shooting up your arm from where the knife is resting lightly on the inside of your wrist. You giggle, releasing some of the tension building in the room, causing Poe to lift the knife from where it’s resting, instead leaning over to bite the skin under your ear, his chest brushing yours. “Concentrate,” he admonishes you, but you can feel him smiling against your skin at you, that softness that comes easy to him when it’s just the two of you.

You arch your back towards him as he stays there, enjoying the feeling of his chest against yours, the way his warmth spreads through you. You can feel his chain trapped between your bodies too, a warm, comforting presence, at such odds to the knife in Po’e hand.

You giggle again, his beard tickling your neck when he drops a kiss, when you feel the knife turn on your skin and curve up your arm. It’s cold, and sharp, and if you didn’t know it was blunt, you’d be worried about the amount of blood running into the bedsheets. The sensation is enough to stop your laughing, and you take in a breath, short and barely audible.

Poe’s sat up now, away from you, and you arch your back towards where he must be, desperate for contact as he travels the knife slowly up your arm and across the front of your shoulder.

You struggle to press your legs together, already attempting to relieve some of the pressure building. Poe doesn’t miss your subtle squirming, kissing the soft underside of your jaw, before talking. “That feel good?”

You nod, whining out a “Yes Poe, it-it feels so good, don’t stop, don’t stop, stars.” Poe adjusts himself, bringing one leg over your thigh so he can fit a knee at the junction of your legs. One of your  hands flies down to grab Poe’s thigh, clumsy fingers looking for him before spreading across his warm skin. Your other hand is already fisting into the sheets at your side.

“Poe.”

It’s a whine, high-pitched and a bit pathetic, even as you shift your hips down, feeling the delicious grind of Poe’s uniform catching on your bare pussy, imagining the mess you’re leaving on his uniform not for the first time, feeling oh so good when you angle your hips in a certain way to press your clit. You’re soaked, you can already feel it slightly on your inner thighs and you dimly remember a time when you were embarrassed at how easily Poe aroused you.

He uses the knife to push the straps of your bra down your shoulders, cold and slow and achingly painful, but Poe doesn’t slide them all the way down your arms, even as he allows you to keep grinding your hips down against his leg.

He lowers his mouth to your breasts, mouthing at your nipples through the thin fabric, a wet heat pooling and you mewl in protest, impatient and wanting more. Always more.

More, more, more.

You don’t think you could ever get enough of your husband.

And his beard. The skin on your breasts is soft, sensitive, and you can feel the burn already, even through your bra. Each scratch sends a thrill up your chest, settling in your throat as you let out small noises of enjoyment for your husband.

Poe moves under your breasts, kissing and nipping at your exposed skin, and you move your hands to his head, fumbling a little at first, your knuckles accidentally knocking into the side of his face when you misjudge the distance, until you find his thick curls.

They’re soft under your fingertips, and you tangle your fingers in, tugging every now and then. Poe’s moving at an excruciating pace, and you want more now. Your arms are caught slightly in your bra straps and you impatiently push them down, not liking the restraint.

“Please, Poe.” You struggle to find his head again, before giving him another, harder, tug, and now it’s Poe’s turn to moan against your skin.

“Baby,” He sounds just as broken as you feel, even as he keeps his hands on your shoulder, the knife resting gently against the column of your throat.

Poe peels your now-wet bra from your breasts, undoing the centre clasp and allowing it to fall to the bed at your side. He kisses somewhere on your stomach, moving his free hand down, slipping through your folds easily, and dipping in his fingers, spreading the slick that’s gathered there, and you widen your legs further in an automatic attempt to make it easier for him.

You can’t help it, lifting your hips when he slides in one finger, gasping in pleasure. Poe gives you a second to adjust, before stretching you with a second finger, and you can feel his smirk as he kisses your stomach, crooking his fingers towards your sweet spot a couple of inches inside you, moving slowly as he teases you.

His chain just touches your skin when he kisses you, each movement jostling it a little, and you giggle, pulling at it in a futile attempt to control Poe’s movements.

Warmth is spreading all over your body despite the cool knife, and you can feel droplets of sweat beading, on your face, your neck. You’re sure there’s sweat on your breasts and stomach and legs too, but you don’t care.

Poe moves the knife from your neck, and you’ve lost your concentration, unable to figure out how he’s lying, lost in the sensations of the cold glide of the knife over your sweaty body as you moan, Poe working magic with his fingers. You can feel his weight on top of you and you allow yourself to float further, willingly losing yourself in the sensations.

“Colour?”

Poe’s voice is hoarse, even as he keeps moving his fingers inside you, building you up and up, the knife hesitantly pressed on the underside of your breast.

Your arch your back towards him enthusiastically, gasping out, “Green! Poe, it feels so good!”

The knife starts to circle the flesh of your breasts, pushing in the side of one, before Poe moves it to the other, and you’re sure your nipples are hard. You’re trying to push your body up, Poe making you feel light and airy and like he’ll raise you above such mundane things as lying in a bed.

His fingers are moving in and out of you now, and this is so close to your fantasy from the other day that you come close to your peak embarrassingly fast.

“You really like this, don’t you?” Poe’s purring in your ear, and you tip your head towards him, mouth falling open in response. You do. You do really like this.  

The only sound you can make is a strangled moan, and you hope Poe knows what you mean, his fingers speeding up with your confirmation. He keeps talking, as though you’re going to be able to answer, his voice only spurring you on. “I bet you can’t wait to do this to me, my filthy little thing.”

“Do you want my cock? I can’t wait to get you bouncing on my dick again.”

“You’re so wet for me, you’re dripping around my fingers.”

And stars, you are wet, Poe’s fingers sliding in and out with a practiced movement, his thumb flicking at your clit, and you can hear the squelching of Poe’s fingers in your pussy, even as blood starts to roar through your ears.  

“Fuck,” you swear, panting, your body hot. “Fuck, Poe. Poe.”

It’s like his name is the only word you can remember, the only word allowed to pass your lips, a prayer, a chant, repeated over and over again as he lifts you higher.

And then the tip of the blade is on your nipple and you’re going to come, you can feel it, your legs tensing even as your hips writhe on the sheets below you, keening for Poe, still desperate for more.

You cum with a breathless gasp of Poe’s name, hips bucking upwards into Poe, your pussy clenching around his fingers which don’t stop moving as he works you through it. He moves to kiss you, noses bumping as he adjusts his position, slowing the movements of his fingers as you continue to spasm helplessly below him.

And this is better, because as you come down from your high, your heart beating like a drum in your chest, you can feel Poe’s chest against yours, his heart beating nearly as fast as yours as your lips move slowly against each other.  

Your hands come up, pushing the blindfold onto your forehead, preventing any sweat from dripping into your eyes and you take in the sight before you. You’re unintentionally giving Poe your bedroom eyes, you know, unable to open them fully, still giddy from pleasure. There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you drink Poe in.

His hair has become disheveled from your hands, errant black curls flopping everywhere, including his own forehead, which is gleaming from a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes are dark, that lovely brown colour almost swallowed whole by his pupils and his lips are pinker than usual, swollen.

He’s straddling your thighs, one hand resting on your hip with glistening fingers, the wet catching on your sticky skin while his thumb idly draws patterns into your skin. Poe’s other hand is holding onto the knife, and you let your eyelids dip, unable to keep them open for much longer.

Poe gives you a minute of rest, allowing you to catch your breath, before he moves. You don’t think anything of it, until you feel the knife on the inside of your thigh, scraping up your leg like an old-fashioned razor.

You slowly lift your head, opening lazy eyes and watch as Poe slowly moves the knife up. There’s slick liquid on your legs, proof of your release, proof of how much you enjoyed Poe, how much you enjoyed the knife, now collecting on the edge, white and shiny on the blade.

Your mouth’s dry and you can’t tear your eyes away, you and Poe concentrating on the same spot.

And then, oh maker, Poe closes his eyes, and fuck, he lifts the knife up to his mouth. There’s a flash of white teeth, pearly and sharp, then a swipe of his pink tongue, and your cum is gone, Poe swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

Stars, he’s going to kill you.

There’s a drop stuck to his beard, but you can’t move, frozen as arousal courses again through your body.

Your heart is hammering in your chest as though it’s trying to escape. This time it’s your turn to move, pushing Poe down and straddling him, settling into his lap.

This isn’t the end.

***

Taglist: @darthdameron

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

[rphelperblog]

Hayley Marshall Kenner RP meme

[inspired by @heldheart​ and @witchyxwoo​ ]

Remind me again why I give a damn?

Don’t make promises you can’t keep

How do your mother’s boots taste?

If someday, we meet again in another life, I will hold you to that dance

I never meant anyone who is just there for me

They thrive on hatred.... and you, my sweet girl

This macho stuff is cute and all but don’t make me come over there and kick all your asses

You want more. Come on

I’m gonna skin you alive

You cannot let the past define you

You will be forgotten rotting in the ocean. Remember my face for it is the last thing you will ever see

I gathered congratutaion 

Consider respecting me, I did save our ass.”

Fight back! Fight back

I’ve tried to play nice. The last month of pregancy is all hormones and mood swings, so unless you want me to snap your arm like a twig, you will tell me what’s going on

I’m not much a sleep while the soups cooking type of girl

I’m great with old people and babies- sometimes the in-between is tough

Unfortunately, those who know you from your past define you as it

I’m pretty sure that I’ll be doing this alone

Sometimes when It feels like it’s me against the world, it keeps me going

I’m sorry. We don’t have time for this

I have claws

Oh, I still think you're a bitch. I've just grown to like that about you.

I know I'm the only one in this house that actually drinks milk, but would it kill any of you to make sure it's actually on the grocery list?

You’re all class

You show a girl a few mediocore paintings, whine about childhood, and I swoon and tell you all my secrets?

You got a bad hand

I think your confusing me with one of those sad girls who will wait for you to choose

And you have hit your complaint quota for the day

Sudden moves make me angry.. and homicidal

I guess being diabolical has it’s advantages

I was a mother, now I am a monster

I have to let you go

I'm gonna go find our daughter.

You will not take my baby. I will kill all of you.

for once in your immortal life can you not be so noble?

A hundred months pregnant and pissed off at the world?

If we can't all learn to get along, if our families can't create some sort of community, then what's the point? Kill each other and get it over with.

Hey there, witch bitch.

I know what a promise means to you, but you made it 200 years ago. I live in the now. If I feel something, I act. If I want something, I take it. I won't choose the dead over the living, so why are you?

I'm sorry that it takes me being in danger for you to even talk to me.

Well, every good story needs a wicked witch. It'll be all the more satisfying when we melt her.

Ever since the day I met you, I have felt everything for you

Loving any of us is a death sentence isn’t it

You say you hate him, but the way you deal with him is so clean. Even when you hate him, you love them

All knocked up and nowhere to go.

Why are you trying to put together your family when it's so clear that one part of it is broken?

So you're having weird, retro sex dreams. Get over it. I'm staying.

Remind me to annihilate your brother once you're healthy.

I know you're just using me to save your people, but try it again and I'll kill you.

If I never hear the word ring again, it'll be too soon.

He was busy being a man

You do realize I had to endure a horrendous labor and actual death birthing the child that you are holding.

Have I mentioned that I've had a rotten couple of months?

father of the year

I can’t stop thinking about how my daughter will never know you or what you did for her dad

Sometimes, I can’t stand him but I thought their had to be some good in him considering that he liked you

You want a fight. I’ll bring a war

me? Sarcastic. Never

Whoops- wait- not his wife

There’s a difference between giving up and knowing when you have had enough

I'd rather rip your mother's head off.

No, you don't get to ignore me for days and then suddenly act like you're concerned. Just for once, would you please trust me that I say I will do something and it will get done

[bakugohoex]

congrats on 1k!! may i request angst #10 with levi ackerman? <3

“goodbye my love”

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

cw: angst, blood, kissing, death, flashbacks in italics 

word count: 1700+

a/n: i feel sad now and i have to write some nsfw next whoops hehe, but hope you guys like this and enjoy the angst i guess

playlist: please check out these songs from @marchsbakery dying in levi’s arms, here’s the spotify link as well, i had no idea she was making it but it coincided with me posting this so of course i had to add the playlist. 

summary: in which in your final moments, you relive all your memories with levi until saying your last words to your love

1k event masterlist

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of your screams and the tears that flooded from your eyes was the last thing Levi saw when a titan had collided right into you. It had been quick, carefully thought out even, the way the horse was flung to the side and you almost looked ethereal in the sky. But it wasn’t some scene in a play where you would look magnificent, your blood curdling scream was what made everybody turn to look at you.

Turn and see a superior flung to the side, with blood seeping through your clothes. Your stomach churning at the impact, ready to be eaten. Levi saw it all, quickly slashing the neck of a titan before running to the titan, it gripped your body as your legs kicked and your mouth screamed. Tears mixed with blood dampened your skin, this was it for you. This was what everything had come down to, the titans mouth opened wide, you could almost see the other humans in its stomach. You closed your eyes ready for the tear of your legs, but it never came.

Instead the crushing of your bones, the excruciating pain you went through as the titan may have been slashed by Levi, may have begun toppling to the ground. But in its last-ditch attempt to kill you, it squeezed your body, bones crushing and moving out of place, blood trickling down your mouth. If it couldn’t have you neither could Levi.

“Y/n, you…” Levi was about to ask about your condition, but the way you were sprayed onto the palm of the titan, blood coughing from your mouth, bruises forming and pain searing through you. He knew something was wrong, you both were so close to having killed the titans, there had only been a couple left. You could survive this, get the treatment you needed, but as he ran up to you, grabbing your body he could almost feel your pain.

“L…Levi.” You coughed out more blood, he hated seeing you like this, in his arms vulnerable, he was vulnerable. What could he do, other than hold his love.

He shifted your body from the titans palm, you both in a safe area away from the others. “You’re going to be fine.” There wasn’t a question about it, you’d survive, you’d be fit and ready to go on the next expedition, he didn’t care.

“I’m d…dying.” You could barely form words, but if this was your last moments you were glad it was with your love rather than inside a Titans gullet.

Levi watched as tears fell down your numb body, he took a deep breath, he knew it was hard for him to express emotions. Express himself to you, but he looked up in the sky, suppressing any forming tears that could come out, he wanted to be strong for you. “No, yo…you won’t.”

“Tell me our story.” You were going in and out of your own mind, you didn’t want to fight over your death, you wanted to hear your story. The story of Y/n and Levi and how they were supposed to rule the world, fight titans and finally gain the peace that they deserved.

He saw how you shut your eyes just wanting to hear any story, there was no time to help you. He had to give you your last wish, explain your story if it was the last thing he did. “Okay.” He held you in his arms, kissing your forehead with warmth. “We met a couple months after you joined the scouts, you were so confident, remember…

“Is this the famous Captain Levi, I’ve heard so much about.” Levi eyes you up and down at how easily you made yourself at home with him, he raised an eyebrow as he folded his arm.

You stared at the man a smirk as you tilted your head waiting for a reply, “if you’re going to act like you don’t know who I am, then I have no business with you.” He was ready to walk away but you grabbed his arm, making him stop in his tracks. “What brat?”

“So rude, you’re the one who asked for me to join your squad.” Levi was the one to be confused as he looked at you with a puzzled look, “you asked for the girl who got first in the scouts, that’s me.”

“You?” He looked at you with no emotion.

“Don’t need to be so mean, I’m really am quite good.” You spoke highly of yourself, Levi hated those who had no actual experience to back them up.

He tapped his food in thought before replying, “we’ll see, get ready, you’ll be right next to me.”

“Gosh not even an apology.” He glared as you shrugged leaving him to tut in disgust, he’d have to sort that attitude out for sure. You had thought that joining a squad so easily and especially Levi’s squad would be an honour. But after his words it felt more like a low blow at how he didn’t recognise your talent, he looked down at you and you already had a will to prove him wrong.

“…God, you really hated me back then didn’t you.” Levi looked down at your nimble self, blood spewing down your mouth. You nodded trying to put out a laugh but could barely even lift your eyelids back up.

“Te…Tell me more.” Your words were short and breathless, he saw tears continue to trickle down, he didn’t know how long you had left, he witnessed more titans collide to the ground. Even if he had brought you back to the scouts, they couldn’t do anything until all the titans were defeated. You’d be another corpse on the long list, he’d give you these minutes, these moments to die without having a line in your name.

“You pestered me afterwards, on the expedition you showed off all those tricks and killed so many titans, but I never told, but I admired it my love, admired the way you did everything for humanity you didn’t fear death, I fell in love with you because you weren’t selfish like the others…

Levi had asked for you to come by his office after coming back from town, it had been a couple months since the expedition, and you had grown fond of the boy. He may have given you snide remarks, but the small upwards twitch of his mouth proved that he didn’t hate you as much as he let on. You knocked on the wooden door as you heard a come in, easily slipping between the cracks.

You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t become infatuated with the man either, the way he killed titans and swung through the air always felt like your own private show. Even now here, with his watchful eyes at your movement towards his desk, he gave no emotion, but his eyes spoke differently, inviting you in almost. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

“Sit down.” He was stern with his words which you easily followed as you crossed your legs staring at him. “You’ve been working with Mike a lot lately.”

It wasn’t something you had expected, and you almost laughed at his accusations, “what about it?”

“I prefer my squad to work together rather than separately.” His sentence was filled with mystery as if he wanted to say more.

You felt confident in what you believed him to be saying, it had been Hanje who planted the idea that Levi preferred you more than he did other humans. But preferred was a stretch of the word that you had thought of, could he possibly like you, the way you liked him. “Captain, this isn’t about working together is it, are you jealous?”

“No.” He was blunt about it but refused to meet your gaze, you stood up moving closer to his seat, you leaned against his desk, eyes on his form as he looked at the papers in front. Rather than the side where your watchful eyes were.

“You don’t need to lie to me Levi, but if you really don’t, I was just about to go spend some time with Mik…” Levi grabbed your wrists stopping your words, he finally looked up at you. He moved his chair to be in front of you, his body between your legs, before grabbing your jaw.

“You leave this room and I’ll make you regret it.” Your chest felt heavy as you leant down to meet his mouth, his mouth feeling warm against your own as you both moved in sync with one another.

“…I fell in for you from that moment Y/n.” He looked back down at you, your body feeling heavy on his thighs.

You looked up at him, finally being able to open your eyes as you looked at him wanting to speak and tell him how much you loved him. “I…I…” You began coughing again, worry radiating off of Levi, “you told me…on our first date that we’d be toge…together forever.”

“We will.” Levi lied to make himself feel better, to make himself believe that this was all a dream. He had lost too many people, his mother, his friends and comrades he couldn’t, he couldn’t lose his one love. The one person he had sworn to protect, to save from this disgusting world.

“For…forever wasn’t long enough...” You whispered feeling empty inside, tears soared out as you looked through the dampness right up at Levi. He looked down and for the first time you witnessed the tears, how he tried to hide them with an emotionless face. But they were there.

He brought his head down to meet your own, forehead resting against your own, “we’ll get our happiness next time…I promise my love.”

You felt his tears fall onto your own skin, feeling your body begin to shut down, your eyes feeling heavy as Levi bent down to your lips to give you one last kiss. To give himself one last kiss, you were always going to be it for him, nobody would ever replace you.

And as he finally parted from your damp lips he heard the last words, he had never wanted to hear, never wanted to imagine coming from your lips. Your arm falling to the grass, body heavy and eyes shut as you whispered the words that brought about the end, “goodbye my love.”

Tears pricked down Levi’s face; he hadn’t expected it from himself. He thought he could stay emotionless but as he held your corpse in his arms, bringing you closer to his body, he remembered every second he had spent with you, loving you and how he was never going to get that ever again.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @levisfilm @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows @admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes @gabrann @zlatanakermann @c0urtn3y @bakuhoesworld 

[mrpenguinpants]

Zhongli: Dating HCs

Aww, I’m glad you like it. Honestly, it was probably one of my favourite hcs to write aha. Ah yes Zhongli, the man who I refuse to believe has money and is constantly broke 24/7. An accurate reflection of me when I spend all my primogems on Childe and have nothing for Zhongli. 

This is my first time writing for Zhongli so I might have went a bit overboard? When you were gonna write a couple HCs and ended up writing 1k+ words. Whoops? Maybe I should put a read more on this.

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​​ @mikeysbike​​​ @unionwitch​​​ @musekala​​​ @twistedsunnshiii​​ @stanzastic​​

Zhongli: Dating HCs

When you first met Zhongli, your first impressions on him was that he was a very intelligent and well-culture man on Liyue’s traditions and history. That was until you got acquainted with his money and negotiation habits. It gave you a bit of whiplash at how, almost naïve, Zhongli was but it was also endearing? It made him feel a lot more approachable and make you feel like less of an idiot when he started spouting off about things that most Liyue citizen’s wouldn’t know.

Your inner consciousness was screaming at you to help him out. You didn’t want to see him get his entire wallet scammed because he didn’t know how to handle mora. That’s how you basically became his accountant. You didn’t know where he was getting his money but if he was throwing it away so easily, it wouldn’t last long.

After a while, you developed a business-friend type relationship with the man. You would attempt to handle his negotiations and try and fix his bad habit of forgetting his wallet and in return, he’d tell you stories and odd bits of trivia that only someone like him would know. It was kind of interesting hearing him ramble on about different plants and machines. Though he did have a really nice voice too which probably added to the appeal. He mentioned once that if you were to ever pass away, he would see to it personally that your send off would be perfect. You told him he really did not need to worry about that.

Overtime, you found yourself beside Zhongli on simple outings. No need to worry about work or wondering where the actual hell Zhongli got his funds from, just friendly chatter. If you both happened to meet on the Liyue street with no work to complete, he’d ask for your company. Through one of your conversation you told him you were originally from Sumeru so he’d take you to special spots in Liyue, offering small bits of history.

One day, Zhongli had invited you out to dinner saying it was his treat for helping him out so much. You weren’t going to say no to his company and a potential free meal so you agreed. It was an overall good time until Zhongli reached into his pocket to hand you a gift, a case to carry your vision. You had mentioned once when you first met that your vision had been accidently eaten by a pyro slime when you were traveling from Sumeru to Liyue, so the casing was burnt around the edges. It was a shock to you that not only did he remember, since you only said it once in a brief comment, but the casing was actually really beautiful. Zhongli gently reached over to take your hands to put your vision into the new case, his fingertips slowly lingering. Then the gears in your head slowly began turning as the evening lamps reflected on the vision case.

“Wait, have you’ve been...asking me out on dates?” you asked, eyes blinking wide at him as he tilted his head to the side. He didn’t appear mad or annoyed, just genuinely confused by your question.

“Yes? I was under the impression you were aware I was courting you.”

You quickly run through the last couple of weeks with Zhongli trying to see if there was anything that stood out. You suppose he was smiling a bit more, going to more romantic areas in Liyue, and he did just give you a new case for your vision...

You wanted to die right there in your seat as your entire face flushed red. You didn’t even realize. So much for calling Zhongli the naïve one. Zhongli slightly frowned as he took your silence as a silent rejection and slowly slipped his hands out of yours before you quickly curled your fingers around his to keep them in place.

“Sorry, hang on. Please just -give me a second to collect my thoughts.” you quickly stutter out as you unconsciously squeezed his hand tighter as you bite your lip nervously.  

“Okay, take as long as you need,” Zhongli nods. If you weren’t gripping his hand like a lifeline he’s tempted to ease the pressure on your lip so the skin wouldn’t break.

You did really like Zhongli, you wouldn’t have stopped him from pulling away if you didn’t. But going from your casual friendship to something more?

“Um...would it be alright if we could take it slow? I don’t mean anything bad by that nor am I rejecting you. We could see how things go? Whatever happens happens?” you began to ramble before Zhongli cut you off. He slowly loosens the vice like grip you had on him and moves his hand to gently cup your cheek, to trace along the indent you left on your lower lip.

“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you,” he smiles softly at you as his amber eyes seemed to glow in the dark. On second thought, you might not be able to take it slow, this one look is enough to kill you.

At first, Zhongli would give you material possessions and while it was very nice and his sense of style wasn’t that bad, you couldn’t help but worry that he might have spent his entire life savings. You have to gently remind him that you don’t need these things to win you over. Just to be himself and let things happen naturally. He nods along and actually begins taking notes, as if you’ve told him the meaning of life. It’s a bit embarrassing but at least it show’s that he’s serious.

Zhongli is earnest in everything he does and sometimes a bit too blunt. He’s still incredibly respectful of your personal boundaries and space but if you catch him staring at you he’ll be honest in his reasons why. Sometimes he’ll keep going and that embarrasses you too much to the point you have to reach over and stop him before your face overheats.

Likewise, his affection is similar. He isn’t incredibly affectionate but sometimes he seems to pop out of nowhere or you’ll be mid-sentence and he’ll sneak a small kiss. He isn’t trying to fluster you on purpose which makes you a bit more shy that he can do these acts with such ease.

Whenever he mentions that he may bore you with his information on odd historical and cultural aspect of Liyue, even calling it a  "bourgeois parasite" you quickly shut it down. He should have more confidence, not everyone in Liyue knows what he knows and he should be proud. It’s because of him that traditions are alive, even if it’s just him that remembers them. He wraps his arms around you and embraces you tightly as he thanks you so sincerely, it almost stuns you in place.

If you do happen to fall asleep he doesn’t take it personally. He enjoys the fact that you feel so comfortable in his presence to rest. But he does end up sitting the the same position until you wake up even though you tell him that sitting in the same position, at night, in the cold, for 6 hours straight is not something he needs to do.

You absolutely do not trust Childe anywhere near Zhongli but you’re weak whenever he gives you that small smile. He thinks of Childe as...a friend? Companion? A walking talking bank account? You doubt it’s the last one considering how respectful Zhongli is but you can’t help but worry. But if Zhongli considers Childe a friend then you’ll silently accept him. It slightly helps you get through the day, until you see Childe already sitting at a table waving to you both innocently. I hope you don’t mind that I invited Childe, he says. A part of you wonders if he actually knows what a date is or if the first times were flukes.

When Zhongli is there you’re both respectful with each other, slipping underhanded comments disguised as friendly jest’s. But as soon as he leaves, you’re ripping into Childe. Zhongli comments that he’s glad you and Childe get along so well as you both stare at him as if he’s grown two heads.

Sometime you get so frustrated that you have to sit him down and just clasp your palms on his cheeks as he stares up at you confused. You want to knock some sense into him that while Childe may own a bank, he in fact does not, and he should really stop digging himself into deeper debt with that Fatui. But he gives you that same tilt of the head, a small smile stretching over his mouth, and his amber eyes soften just a tad that it knocks the wind out of you on just how cute Zhongli can be sometimes.

You both never end up formally putting a label on what you both are, which felt a bit unusually to Zhongli who is so rooted in tradition. But as he watches you pout at him that he isn’t filtering anything you’re saying as you pay the merchant, he can’t help but wonder what the customs of Sumeru are in terms of marriage.

[inkdemonapologist]

SESSION TWELVE of the BatIM Call of Cthulhu game, aka Continuing to have a Great Time At The Masquerade! : )

Joey and Bendy destabilised early on, meaning Joey went through the ENTIRE masquerade UNABLE TO STOP SMILING

getting some mixed messages here, Joey

Sometimes u dress ur characters up as rabbits for fun but then you have a lot of emotions about them losing their minds and then u gotta draw them losing their minds while dressed as rabbits... anyway Jack being mind-controlled did NOT help Sammy hold onto his mental stability at this nightmare party in case you were wondering,

ANYWAY HAVE, MORE OUT-OF-CONTEXT QUOTES, UNDER THE CUT

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] Joey, make a POW roll also... [Joey] Oh, boy, [GM] ...because Bendy was also told to enjoy this party, and you guys just passed a plate of food, and he wants to eat! [Jack] FEED YOUR SON! [Joey] No!!! [Henry] HES A HUNGRY BOY! [Sammy] A GROWING BOY!

[Henry] Henry will look back to see if Moonlight is trying to follow them! [GM] He will see that Moonlight has grabbed onto the railing of the stairs and is hobbling slowly down them. [Joey] *extremely evil-sounding cackling*

[Jack] All Cthulhu Official Dice actually come weighted, to make you fail.

[Henry] Gotta try harder than that, bitch! [Henry] ....that wasn't in character. [Jack] It's in character, but he's only thinking it. [Sammy] That's the golden text you see on the wall if you use the seeing tool

[Henry] My Luck is 68, I don't know what y'all are doing! [Jack] We're spending Luck so that we'll fail! [Sammy] BEING UNLUCKY! I've barely spent any Luck, I'm just NOT A LUCKY GUY

[Henry] Oh, Avedon's here, [GM] There's a gunshot, and he tries to shoot Fowler! [Joey] Um, well, uh, whoops!, rest in peace Fowler! [Sammy] Yeah, that'll sort itself out, let's go! [GM] Moonlight seems to reconsider from telling people to grab you guys, to grabbing Avedon instead. [Joey] Oh! THANKS AVEDON, your sacrifice will, not be thought about in the slightest!!!

[Sammy] Is... weird question, does this room look like it matches the architecture of the rest of the house? [GM] [GM] [GM] ...make a sanity check.

[Sammy] It would be a like, Come on Jack, do you know where you are, shake it off, snap out of it, kind of thing. [GM] Why don't you make a... a.... oh boy, [Sammy] One of my REALLY persuasive social skills?

[GM] This probably just registers to Jack as, Sammy griping about a party, which isn't that strange. [Jack] Yeahhhh, he wants to leave. He always does that. I wanna stay at least a little longer! [GM] That just means it's Jack's job to find them something fun and good to do. [Sammy] Oh boy, [GM] I don't think Jack is being compelled to be aggressive about this necessarily, he just feels like he's Jack at a party, doing the things Jack normally does, and trying to have a good time! [Sammy] Ah, and everyone else is being weird, [GM] Yeah! Everybody's being really weird! You're at this nice party, and now you're in this weird room? The party's back there somewhere! [Jack] I mean not that he's opposed to bein' dragged into side rooms at parties by cute boys, but,

[GM] The table looks like a table that Henry has in his house, actually. [Sammy] Have I ever been in Henry's house? These are questions I didn't expect to need to ask tonight.

[Sammy] Jack, this is weird! You see this is weird, right?! [Jack] Well yeah, it is kinda weird that we're in-- what are we doing here? [Joey] Joey is going to grab Jack's arm, and point to the next door, and go "Party is this way!"

[GM] Peter looks worried... [Sammy] Sammy looks worried too! Well, Sammy looks angry, but in a worried way.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream frustratedly. [Sammy] Is there ink in this room? [GM] There is not. [Jack] Is there a party in this room? [GM] Definitely no, only the party you bring with you.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream again. [Joey] He's also going to kick the door. He might stub his toe. [Sammy] Through all this, Joey is smiling. I just need us all to remember that. [Joey] YES. Also his tail is furiously going. [GM] Bendy is also upset! There is nothing to eat here.

[Joey] Joey is going to try to feed Bendy some ideas, [GM] He doesn't want ideas, he wants food!

[Joey] So.... what happens if you fumble a sanity roll?

[GM] See, here's the silly part. At this point, right? At this point, the best place to do the tasks you want to do, involve either getting the stone out of the room with the safe, or having the staff that Henry is currently holding. [Sammy] So you would arrive, by completely different means, to the same place that we are! [GM] Clearly Joey is inside the safe.

[Jack] Bad and naughty Joey Drews get put in the safe to atone for their sins!

[Henry] Henry is going to channel his inner Joey Drew and round the corner and say "No, sorry about him, we're just here on inspection, we need to check the safe." [Henry] Which is probably a Fast Talk, which I hope it isn't, because my Fast Talk is a 5. [GM] Unless you wanna try to turn that into a persuade somehow? [Henry] I'll do Persuade! [GM] What are you doing to persuade them, rather than just lying? [Henry] *rolls* I failed... I'm gonna push it... [Sammy] *uneasy noises* IF YOU PUSH IT AND IT GOES BAD, IT GOES WORSE [Henry] AH! HAHA! I ROLLED A SIX! [Sammy] THAT'S STILL NOT LESS THAN FIVE! [Henry] WELL IM DOING PERSUADE! [Sammy] That means you have to NOT LIE! [Henry] ....Fuck. [Henry] Okay, uh, there's an emergency, we need the contents of that safe. [Sammy] THATS STILL A LIE??? [Joey] NO actually, THAT'S TRUE! [Henry] It IS an emergency!!

[Sammy] Sammy cannot believe that this is working.

[GM] Bendy does wonder what his plan is for getting out of the safe. This does not seem like a fun party place. [Joey] Um, [Joey] Joey says it's a surprise.

[GM] Henry, the safe does indeed open! And there's a Joey! [GM] Bendy says "Oh wow!" [Henry] Henry tries his best to keep a straight face, like yes! this is exactly what he came here for! [Sammy] (Sammy is NOT keeping a straight face) [Jack] (Straight? In this party?)

[Jack] He's probably saying something like, "What are you doing, he's one of us!" [Jack] And that could go either way. That could mean "No, he's chill, I will persuade you to stop!" Or that could mean, "We are also criminals!"

[GM, as the guards] Then why does he look like the Yellow King's messenger? [Henry] *not missing a beat* We get that a lot.

[GM] Something falls from the sky and lands in front of him. And it's a person! [Joey] Is he alive? [GM] Very much not. [Sammy] How... how Illusion of Living canon-compliant is this Joey...?

[Jack] So... it would probably occur to Jack that this is weird for a party,

[Henry] Joey don't touch it! [Joey] Why not? [Henry] There's runes around it. I don't know if you can touch it. [Joey] Joey's gonna touch it. [Henry] *long-suffering sigh* If you get zapped, I'll tell you I told you so!

[Jack] Jack really wishes we were just back at the party right now, you guys... [Jack] Only bad things have happened. [Jack] Pete's traumatised, Joey's goopy, the Lurker ate all of the snacks,

[Sammy] Can I try to break free from Henry? Sammy's gonna try to run over there. [Henry] At this point, Sam can go, if he wants. [Sammy] Okay, cool. Then Sammy's gonna go and put ink in his mouth! [Henry] Goddammit. I was hoping you were going to check on Joey!

[Joey] You can’t take all of the sanity hits! You have to leave some for other people! [Jack] Says you! You got so many temps!! And an indefinite!!

[GM] Bendy probably is complaining loudly about WHY DID HE WALK THROUGH THE RUNES??? [Joey] Oh! I thought he was going to complain about the party, or lack thereof, [GM] That’s part of not having fun at the party, he’s not into that! [Joey] Well, [GM] This is not a fun party activity!!

[GM] But he doesn’t think it will destroy either of them, if you do it right! [Jack] That’s a nice, way to end that sentence,

[Sammy] Let us hurry! May I take the stone? [Joey] Joey shrugs. [Sammy] Sammy will, uh, attempt to reach inside of... whatever this is, and find the stone. [Henry] Reach INTO your LOCAL boss, and you will find A Friend And Boy,

[Sammy] Is there anything in this room that I can pick up, and then hit him in the head with? [GM] Henry has a stick... uh....there’s a projector.... [Sammy] Can I pick that up? [GM] No, you cannot. [Sammy] It would be REALLY funny if Sammy dropped a projector on someone else’s head. [Sammy] HOW THE TURNTABLES!!!

[GM] ...Can you impale with a rocking horse...???? [Sammy] I don’t want to impale, I want to knock him in the head so he passes out!!! Rest your head, it’s time for bed!!!

[Jack] I don’t think Jack has any plans after this! [Jack] I meant that in the sense that he doesn’t know what he’s doing next, but the way I phrased it, now it just sounds like he’s hitting on Fowler, like, he doesn’t have anything to do after this, are you free? That’s not canon.

[Joey] I don’t know how this will go, [Sammy] Good luck! [Joey] But Joey would like to-- [Sammy] Sammy believes in half of you! [GM] w-which Sammy? wHICH HALF?!

[Jack] I know you said “note.” But my brain at first processed that word as “milk.” [Henry] *laughing* “Did you get my milk, Fowler?” [Jack] He drank the last carton and he didn’t buy more! [Sammy] “I’m going to the store, want me to get anything? *jumps into the lake*”

[GM] Combat Jack! [Jack] *exasperated* He’s not a Combat Boy! Jack is soft and warm, like mashed potatoes!!!

[GM] Norman is wondering to Henry if he oughta be concerned about you all getting what you want out of this. [Henry] .....Maybe.

[amajikilvr]

five times you surprised tamaki amajiki and the one time he surprised you

word count 1.3k

reader type gender-neutral

“Amajiki-Kun?”

Their sweet voice makes his heart jolt, its beating rhythm shifts from a casual jog to a panicked sprint. He squeezes his eyes shut when he takes sight of the cheeky grin that quickly spreads across Mirio’s face. He remains frozen until his friend’s foot swings out and nicks him in the shin underneath their usual shared lunch table.

Tamaki’s eyes fly open and his breath catches on the stale cafeteria air like a bur snagging on an exposed sock when he inevitably sees them standing and gazing down at him. It’s a fleeting look, but it’s enough for him to notice the apples of their cheeks puffing out cutely and their whimsical aura of a smile that’s practically blinding.

His throat is bone-dry, but a single word somehow sneaks past his also withered lips.

“Y-Yes?” He’s still staring down at his half-eaten lunch, but they’re so utterly warm, he can easily feel them beside him.

What could they possibly want from him?

Another gentle kick to his lower leg encourages Tamaki to slowly lift his head and turn to them. He’s glad he did because their bright smile is somehow even brighter than before.

“So, hi, I know this is random but....”

They’re absolutely lovely in every sense of the word; from the way they draw out the last word to the breathy little laugh that punctuates their sentence.

“... I was wondering if you wanted this. I made way too many yesterday, but then I saw you sitting over here and remembered how you said you had a sweet tooth during that icebreaker on the first day of school. I just kinda thought “Oh, that’s perfect”, but you definitely don’t have to take it, okay?”

Amid his first stage cardiac arrest, Tamaki had failed to even see the skewer of delectable glistening Dango they’re holding. They offer it out to him and he manages to accept the dessert with a shaking hand.

“Thank you, Y/L/N.” He feels his face bloom with a rather powerful flush.

They nod and make heart-dropping eye contact for a second. “Of course, Amajiki. You’re very welcome. Have a nice day!”

Mirio starts talking before they’re even completely out of earshot.

“You do realize that they probably made those just for you? Congrats, I think someone has a not-so-secret admirer if you know what I mean.”

“Please not right now, Mirio…” Tamaki whines in embarrassment before taking a huge first bite out of his treat.

It’s one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

Tamaki gingerly tears off the little blue butterfly plush that was tapped to the front of his locker. He squeezes the stuffed animal and resists the sudden urge to hug it to his chest.

A single sheet of paper floats out and to his feet after opening the door. Someone must have put these here not that long ago. The realization gives Tamaki an unnerving chest pain and a fluttering crescendo in his stomach.

He carefully picks it up and a faint gasp escapes him as he examines the sparkly multi-colored butterfly stickers that cover the paper and the single sentence scrawled among them.

“I heard that you liked them <3”

Tamaki wants to shove his head in his locker, but before he does, he sees them out of the corner of his eye at the drinking fountain. He’s never seen them in this hallway before…

They finish and apparently spot him, smiling and waving brightly like it’s something the two of them do every day. Tamaki nearly faints on the spot with his heart pattering up a storm.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I forgot!” Nejire squeals and pushes away the textbook in front of her. It’s clear their weekly “Big Three” studying session is about to take the back burner…

“Amajiki, guess what?”

“What?” Tamaki winces, wondering how this could possibly involve him.

Nejire lets out another excited squawk and spins her decorated pen between her fingers. “Y/L/N was totally talking about you! I heard them! Do you know what they said? They think you’re really cute, Amajiki. Can you believe it?”

He can not.

Usually, hearing that others were talking about him would’ve sent waves of unbearable anxiety rushing over him, drowning him, but this whole thing feels a bit different. Don’t get it twisted, he’s still as anxious as ever clutching his pencil like a lifeline. The difference is that there’s a pleasant kind of flickering deep inside his chest.

“You’re joking…” Tamaki groans and jumps when Mirio slaps his back roughly.

“I knew it!” He makes an enthusiastic ‘whoop’ noise. “I told you that they were into you!”

Nejire clasps her hands together, her flowing mass of hair practically vibrating like the rest of her and her energy. “This is so, so adorable! Look how pink his ears are getting!”

Tamaki doesn’t hesitate to cover his face and hide away from his two well-meaning, but overbearing friends.

His savior comes in the form of a still laughing Mirio. “Hado-san, we’ve got to leave him be before he combusts on the spot.”

Tamaki can’t believe he agreed to this. Well, technically he didn’t have a choice in the matter, but still.

He’s selling t-shirts with his face on them. His face! Why would Fatgum ever think this was a good idea for a fundraiser? It’s horrifying, actually. People have already purchased some and he still can’t fathom it as an actual thing. Why would anyone want that?

And then everything goes into overdrive when they walk up to his stand, practically skipping with a winning smile.

He can’t help but gawk at them.

“What?” They tilt their head, an easy laugh masking any possibility of them being as flustered as him.

“I’m a huge fan of Suneater.”

Their lips are soft and lush when they brush against Tamaki’s burning cheek. He feels so warm, the closest thing that he can compare the feeling to is the sensation of when you dip into a steaming bubble bath. They’re just so close to him and he swears he can hear their heart beating as hard as his.

They pull away, lashes touching their cheekbones and exhaling deeping. Their hand still grips his forearm before that touch leaves him too.

“Bye… Tamaki.” His first name seems to hesitantly seep out and he feels like he’s floating. “See you tomorrow?”

It’s such a good feeling that he can’t even get himself to pay attention to his shock.

“See you tomorrow.”

This is long overdue and Tamaki knows it.

Mirio and Nejire’s encouragement plus his own common sense is pushing him to ask them out right now. It’s just odd that they haven’t done it first already. They were the ones initiating everything, after all. He guesses they’ve just left that up to him for whatever reason.

He’s going to rise to that occasion. He has to.

“I wanted to ask…”

He pauses, taking a deep breath to steady himself. They nod at him to continue. Their smile is gentle, equivalent to a fluffy blanket. Their eyes are sparkling, so glittering and alive. Their hands look soft, tempting to take and squeeze in his own.

“... D-Do you want to go out with me?”

Tamaki glups heavily and forces himself to watch for their reaction.

Those lively eyes go wide and honeyed lips part slightly. Their gaze swiftly falls to the ground and Tamaki’s heart takes a huge drop from several stories. It feels like it’s getting harder to breathe…

Suddenly, they move forward, wrapping their arms around his middle. Their face buries into the crook of his neck. He shivers and embracing them back when he hears, and feels, the words whispered against his exposed skin.

“I would love to.”

────────────────────────

[starlightsearches]

The Supreme Leader’s Wife

18+ Only! Minors will be blocked.

Armitage Hux x Reader (she/her pronouns) x Kylo Ren

Warnings: Smut (18+ only) PIV sex, name calling (very minor), cuckoldry, brief orgasm denial, fingering, masturbation (m), choking (minor), some dom/sub elements (also minor), religious imagery (whoops), language. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Wow, okay, I don’t really know where this came from and I probably won’t write anything like it again. Very loosely inspired by this drabble that I did a few days ago. Shout out to the wonderful @thembohux for their support and encouragement. If you enjoy this, you should definitely check out their Emperess AU.

Let me know what you think! I appreciate any and all thoughts 💖

General Hux stands outside the door, hands clasped behind his back in tight fists, the fingers of one hand circling his other wrist with enough pressure to bruise. The nape of his neck itches, leftover moisture from the shower dripping down the collar of his greatcoat and wetting the back of his uniform. He had spent too long in the refresher, trying to wash the thoughts from his head, trying to decide whether or not he would even come—it had almost made him late.

He’s here, right on time, whether or not he should be. The door opens, and he steps inside the darkened room.

“Come in, General.” It’s Ren who speaks, voice low and quiet. Hux follows the sound, moving carefully in the darkness to the sitting area. Ren lounges arrogantly, sprawled on the couch like a throne, arms bare and stretched casually over the edge of the sofa, regarding Hux with the faintest hint of humor in his eyes. It puts him on edge.

“I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Yet I’m here.” Hux looks away, hoping he appears bored as he takes in his surroundings. He'd been in the Supreme Leader's chambers before—on business—but you had never been around during those meetings. It's strange how habitual it feels to look for you when he enters the space.

“She’s still getting ready," Ren pulls the thought right from Hux's head, responding as if he had spoken aloud, "but I’m sure she’ll join us in a moment.”

“And it's— I mean, she knows that she doesn’t have to . . .” He sighs through his nose, his jaw clenched tight. Ren doesn't bother to finish his sentence this time, sinking further into his seat—enjoying the way the general fumbles.

“Fuck you?" He finally offers, running his tongue over his teeth when a blush spreads over Hux’s cheeks, "this was her idea."

Oh. The general’s knees go weak, the blood rushing from his head, his cock certainly flushed and aching. How many times had he imagined what it would be like—fooled himself into believing that it was your hands, not his own, bringing him his release? How many times had he watched you speak and thought about pulling a moan from those pretty lips?

A part of him trembles, his body on full-alert, trying to bury those thoughts where Ren could not find them—as he had done before—but he manages to brush the fear away with some effort. Ren had certainly already seen them, and, apparently, he didn't mind.

The refresher door opens and you appear at the threshold, hesitant, but when your eyes meet his, you soften. The air is charged between you, hints of your desire evident in the warmth he feels just looking at you, in the way your teeth run softly over your bottom lip.

Ren beckons you to him with an outstretched hand, and, reluctantly, you peel your eyes away from Hux, moving across the room to your husband, the fabric of your robe swishing gently against your thighs.

He doesn't usually let himself stare like this. He can resist the urge, most of the time, when you're dressed for a meeting, or a gala, but he's never seen this much of your skin before. His eyes stay glued to the hem of the robe, the sway of your hips as you make your way to your husband.

You curl into Ren’s lap, and he holds you tightly, one possessive hand splayed wide over your stomach, the other trailing to fingers up and down the inside of your thigh. He presses a kiss to the junction of your shoulder and neck, and you melt, lips parting gently when he grazes the delicate skin with his teeth.

"Sit down, general."

Desire pools in Hux’s stomach, and his palms grow moist in his gloves. He can’t help the shame that floods him, a ruddy heat that spreads through his torso all the way to the tips of his fingers and tells him to look away. His mind can not let go of the idea that this is not something meant for him to see, but he can’t deny the way his heart races when Ren’s hand trails higher, and he spies a hint of black lace at the apex of your thighs.

"I'd prefer to stand."

“Sit down or leave,” Ren’s voice is steady and hard, totally unaffected as you move against him, writhing in his lap. He slips the hand on your stomach under the fabric of your robe, parting it beneath his fingers. He kneads your breast beneath the fabric and you press up into his touch, spine arching, jaw hanging open, your head falling back against Ren’s shoulder. Hux does as he’s told, falling into the chair behind him, holding back the curses that threaten to spill out from his lips.

"If I'm going to let you do this, you have to do as I say," Ren continues, but Hux only half-hears him, infinitely more interested in the way the tendons in your neck flex as Ren slips one hand beneath the waistband of your panties, the fabric distorting with each long, slow stroke of his fingers. A low moan escapes your lips.

“Well, will you?” Ren smirks at him, pulling his hand from between your legs, taking his middle finger into his mouth, letting it linger before he pulls it out with a soft, wet pop. You whine at the lack of contact, the sound cut off by a small cry when he pinches your nipple beneath the fabric.

“Will I what?”

“Do as I say?”  

Hux’s core tightens, his jaw so stiff it’s a wonder it hasn’t snapped. He knows that Ren’s getting off on this—torturing him, making you so desperate and needy. He wants the one thing Hux swore he’d never give him.

“We’re waiting, general,” Ren strokes his hand from the hollow of your throat, between the valley of your breasts as he parts the robe down its center, exposing the barest sliver of skin before he meets the black lace again, stroking three thick fingers over your clothed cunt. Hux presses his lips together so firmly that they turn white.

Unphased by Hux’s stubborn response, Ren changes tactics. Shifting his attention to you, he grips your jaw in one massive hand and forces your eyes to meet his as he whispers, just loud enough for Hux to hear, “So wet already, little slut? Do you need the general to fuck you that desperately? Why don’t you tell him how badly you want his cock?”

“Please,” you’re grinding against nothing now that Ren has removed his hand, the word distorted by the strength of his hold on your face. A sharp pain draws Hux back from the scene before him, and he tastes blood, his teeth digging sharply into the meat of his cheek. He wonders if Ren would refuse your release if he decided to leave right now.

“Alright, fine. I’ll do whatever you want,” Hux can’t stop himself, can’t imagine going back to his quarters alone. His hands ache at the thought, unsure how many times he’d have to fuck his fist raw to stop seeing the image of you begging for him engraved on the back of his eyelids.

“Good. Why don’t you show him to the bed, love?”

Ren releases his grip on your jaw, sliding his hand out from under the robe, propelling you forward with a smack to your ass. Hux forces himself to make eye contact when you offer him your hand.

He follows you through the doors, to the bedroom, the heat of your skin sinking easily through the leather of his gloves and doing nothing to quell the sweat beading against his palms. The sight of the bed, with it's dark, silky sheets makes him light-headed. This is the place you lay every night—the place where Ren has you, the way he’s about to have you. Hux reminds himself to breathe.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hux whispers as you turn around to face him, pulling him closer with a hand at his waist. Ren hasn't entered the room yet, and although the other man assured him it was fine, he'd never forgive himself if he learned that you had been coerced.

“I’m sure,” your smile is sincere, and you’re close enough now that your bodies brush, the material of your robe slipping gently against his uniform, "I’ve always wanted this. From the moment we met," You stroke your hand up his side, fingers dancing lightly over his ribs before you take the collar of his great coat in your hands, pushing it down off his shoulders.

“You’ve always wanted . . . me?” The edge of the bed dips under his weight as you pull him into a sitting position, and he resists the urge to rub his palms over the tops of his thighs. You smile again, dropping your chin to your chest, suddenly shy.

“You didn’t know? I thought I had been too obvious.” 

Ren enters, chair in hand that he rests at the end of the bed before stretching out across it, his legs spread wide, making no effort at all to hide the considerable tent in his pants. Hux averts his eyes, more than a little flustered. He had passively assumed that Ren was well-endowed, given the man’s stature, but having his assumptions confirmed is an entirely new feeling.

Ren refuses to shy away from the attention, resting his hands behind his head, the picture of self-satisfaction. There’s a suggestive humor in his voice when he speaks.

“What are you waiting for, general? Kiss her.”

Hux collects himself, taking a moment to remember why he’s here before he does as he’s told, cupping your jaw lightly. There’s a soft sheen of moisture coating your lips, but you lick them regardless, darting your tongue over your skin as he pulls you closer. He presses his mouth to yours gently, and you sigh against his skin, sinking into him. He can feel your heartbeat in the tips of your fingers when you brush them over his cheeks.

“Like you mean it.” Ren's voice cuts in, and Hux resists the urge to roll his eyes. He is kissing you like he means it, not that Ren would understand that. He’s not about to argue that point, though. He pulls you closer instead, one hand firm at your waist, slipping his tongue into the warm center of your mouth. You taste sweeter than he had expected.

The room grows warmer, your heat sinking through his uniform, deep into his skin and he's almost able to forget Ren's presence, caught up in the infinitely more pleasurable feeling of your hands and your body on his. Your grip on his uniform is desperate, needy, but never harsh. His stomach lurches when you lay back, letting his weight rest more fully on top of you.

A thin layer of sweat glistens on your neck, and he collects it on his tongue, licking a stripe up the column of your throat, the salt of your skin mixing with the lingering flavor of the leftover perfume that still clings to you.

His fingers find the collar of your robe, pulling it down off your shoulder, lips trailing leisurely over your collar bones. He can feel, more than see, Ren’s irritation at his reluctance to speed up the process—his annoyance permeating the room—but he chooses to ignore Ren more fully. If he only had one chance to experience such long-lived fantasies, he was going to take his time. 

Your fingers card gently through his hair, stroking from the back of his neck up, pulling him closer, the wet heat of your breath soft against his ear. One of your hands finds his, letting him feel the soft lace that covers your breast under his fingers. 

He pulls away slightly, absorbed in the gentle shift in your expression when he runs the pad of his thumb softly over your pebbled nipple, relishing the quiet gasp the move elicits. 

You shrug the robe off your shoulders the rest of the way, leaning back with a coy smile, letting him admire the way the lingerie enhances your frame—the peaks and valleys of your body on display for him.

There’s no need for Ren to order him to continue—he’s back on you before the other man can express any kind of frustration, his lips on yours, clumsy and desperate and so damn eager that he surprises himself. Hux’s fingers tremble against your back as he works to undo the clasp of your bra, a shaky breath of relief leaving his lungs when it gives way without too much trouble.

You slide the garment off your shoulders, letting him look at you, your chest littered with fading bruises—Ren’s marks. The general’s mouth waters, and he leans in closer, ready to taste more of you, but he comes to a halt when you press one hand lightly to his shoulder, stopping his approach. Your tongue traces the top of your teeth before you turn to look at Ren. 

Of course. He needs permission.

Ren’s leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together, the blood gone from his fingers. Hux is surprised that he had not touched himself yet. He would not have expected Ren to have that kind of restraint.

“You can leave marks of your own, if you’d like,” he says, shifting in his seat. His thinly veiled desperation brings a smile to Hux’s face—Ren didn’t have a monopoly on being difficult.

He turns back to you for confirmation, and you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Just nothing above the collar, general,” you snake your hand over his again, pressing it into the supple flesh of your breast. 

Hux has never believed in the existence of a pleasant afterlife—especially not for someone like him—but he’s sure that if one did exist it would pale in comparison to the way you gasp when he presses a kiss to the valley of your breasts, the hummingbird beat of your heart making itself known against the tip of his nose. 

He wastes no time now, lavishing your body with the press of his lips, occasionally surprising you with a soft bite, the gentle graze of his teeth. Subtly, he lets one hand trace its own path down the curve of your waist and over the swell of your hip before nestling it gently between your thighs. 

“General,” you gasp when he slides one finger past the hem of your panties and into your waiting heat, your cunt giving a preliminary squeeze around the solitary digit. Your hips shift against his hand, body desperate for more, but he refuses to give in, pinning your hips in place with the edge of his own. Hux has always been a patient man. He wouldn’t dream of rushing this.

“So needy, Your Highness,” he whispers, ghosting the pad of his thumb gently against the stiff peak of your clit in slow, languorous circles, “Has your husband not been fucking you the way that he should?”

You moan quietly in response, the sound muffled by the fabric of his uniform as you bury your head the crook of his neck. He keeps his movements slow and methodical, curling his finger against your tender front wall on each stroke, increasing the pressure on your clit with steady precision. A lower, deeper sound joins the steady chorus of your sighs and Hux’s heavy breathing. 

He catches Ren’s eye over the expanse of dark sheets. It seems the Supreme Leader has finally given in, one hand stroking up and down his clothed length with excruciating leisure. The muscles in his jaw tighten, a testament to the restraint it must take to only offer himself this inadequate kind of relief, his dark hair plastered in slick strands against his sweat-soaked skin. There’s an animal, in his features—a carnal and base burning in his eyes that he cannot mask. 

Hux snorts. Ren had spent all this time pretending that this was a favor for the general—bargaining chip, a kind of leverage. But the veil has been lifted. Ren is enjoying himself just as much as you are.

He adds a second finger without warning, savoring the way you shake against him, how exquisite you look with your head against the mattress, eyes shut tight and jaw pressing against the boundaries of your skin in a silent scream of ecstasy.

“General, please,” you manage to whimper, the languid movement of your hips meeting him at every stroke, chasing after the peak of your pleasure. He stills his hand.

“Armitage,” he says brusquely, breathing labored, the sound blocked out by the soft cry that escapes your lungs, tears of frustration pricking the corners of your eyes, “call me Armitage if you want to cum.” 

“Do as he says,” Ren orders with no attempt to mask the tremor in his voice, stilling the pace of his hand to a stop, savoring the pain of his own stolen release. 

“Armitage,” you grip at his uniform with both hands, pulling his mouth to yours, desperation evident in your every movement, “please, gods, please—”

He lets you kiss him, focuses all the attention of his hand on your clit, the movement of his thumb against the sensitive skin quicker and harder but no less steady. 

He feels you break against him, your jaw left slack as he licks into your mouth, your thighs quivering at his sides, cunt clenching around his sopping fingers. He holds you against him until the shaking stops. 

Your kiss finds his cheek first, arms heavy and graceless as they pull him closer, your lips traveling sloppily against his skin until they meet his own. You press your mouth to his, and some part of him thinks that it feels like love. Wishes that it could be love. 

You whisper something to him, breathing too hard for the words to come out clearly, your hand teasing him through the fabric of his trousers. His cock jumps, unfamiliar with this kind of attention; it’s not love, but maybe it’s enough.

Your fingers make quick work of the fastenings on his uniform, pushing it from his shoulders, your hands trailing down his arms, the cold air collecting against his skin for only a moment before you sweep it away with your searing touch. You lift your hips into his, slipping your underwear off with both hands, totally bare for him.

“Enjoying yourself?” You’re not talking to him, Hux knows—his enjoyment is more than obvious as he licks and sucks over the soft flesh of your chest, your voice catching when he takes your nipple into his mouth with a soft bite. You’ve turned your attention to Ren, now, and Hux pauses his ministrations, passively curious. He watches as you pass the sweat and slick-soaked lace in your hand to your husband, who balls them into his tight fist, working the fabric leisurely over the head of his now-uncovered dick.

“I think you’re being spoiled, love” he says, leaning closer, on his knees at the side of the bed. He strokes his thumb across your cheek, sparing a short glance for Hux, “you’ve been letting the general do all the work. Why don’t you show him how good you can be? How good you always are for me?”

Hux’s breath hitches. He likes the sound of that. 

You smile wide at the thought, pressing a soft kiss to Ren’s unsuspecting lips. He stands quickly, turning back the way he came, but not before Hux catches the softest hint of a blush spreading across his temple.

You press against Hux’s torso, guiding him into a sitting position. He rests at the edge of the bed, chest thrumming as you straddle him, your thighs caging his hips against the mattress and your hands on his shoulders. Your fingers slip down his spine until you reach the hem of his undershirt. He stops you from untucking it with a hand on your wrist.

“I’d like to keep it on,” he knows you can feel the trepidation in his shaking hands; he sees the questions in your eyes, and for a moment he’s afraid, wondering if you also have your husband’s talent for picking thoughts from his mind—if you somehow know the way his stomach sinks at the thought of being totally uncovered. 

“Alright,” you say, brushing past the pause, leaning closer to caress the ruddy skin of his chest with your lips, the glide of your tongue over his neck pulling any and every insecurity from his head. When you drag your hips over his, your bare cunt sliding deliciously over his dick, he forgets everything but his own name.

He’s not sure how it happens, whether it’s your hands or his own that finally pull his cock into the open air—he’s gone lightheaded, arms shaking as he grips the sheets in white-knuckled fists, focusing all the energy he can summon on keeping upright.

The head of his cock stutters against your entrance, the slick on your skin coating his own as you shift your hips back and forth with just enough pressure to keep him hard, letting out a delighted gasp when he twitches, the tip of him bumping up against your swollen clit.

“That’s enough teasing.” Ren stands behind you, one hand on your shoulder, the muscles in his other arm flexing as he pumps his cock in his hand more vigorously. You roll your eyes, turning to press a soft kiss to Ren’s chest before seating yourself fully on the general’s stiff cock.

The air punches from Hux’s lungs, his brow furrowed, breathing hard as he adjusts to the feeling. 

Hux had spent plenty of time jealous of Ren, a kind of awed hatred that his greatest rival had so much of what Hux desperately wanted for himself. Power, glory, accolade. It's all dust compared to the way you envelop him on that first and divine thrust.

“Does he feel good, love?” Ren asks, peppering the skin of your shoulders with a few soft kisses before he tucks one finger under his chin, admiration in his eyes as he takes in your pleasure-soaked expression. “Is it everything you wanted?”

“Hmm,” you hum contentedly, circling your hips steadily, getting a feel for his length and size, squeezing him just right, “perfect.” 

You speed up slightly, lengthening your strokes, pulling away from him until only the head remains inside before seating yourself down once again, trembling with each sublime impact, your thighs shaking with each movement. 

“Just— Just like that,” Hux stutters, head lolling back, letting himself enjoy this. He likes it more than he thought he ever would—allowing someone else this kind of control, letting you set the pace. He wants you to feel good. He wants you to use him.

Ren looms over both of you, his chest flush with your back, the pressure from his body only heightening the gratification Hux feels.

You whine, pressing the general into the mattress, laying him flat on his back with your hands on your shoulders before you sit up, the deeper angle pulling cries from your lips like never before.

“Please, my love,” you press one hand back against Ren’s chest, fingers too limp to reach for him, but he already knows what you want. Hux watches as one of Ren’s giant hands encircles your neck, and he kisses you deeply, the tears that coat your cheeks glistening in the low light. It’s a mess of a kiss, all teeth and tongue, Ren so eager to please and you so desperate for pleasure.

“Gods— f-fuck,” Hux reaches his precipice sooner than he might have hoped, the sight of you so thoroughly fucked and writhing against Ren bringing him to a high he had not previously thought possible. You recognize his need, snapping your hips faster.

Ren removes his hand from your neck and slides it down over the damp skin of your stomach, pushing one thick finger to the space where your body meets Hux’s, sliding it between your folds.

“Cum for me,” he commands, working quick hard circles over your clit, “both of you. Cum for me now.”

You let go with one shattered breath, riding him through your release, fracturing over him with a scream. It’s celestial, this divine indulgence. There is no god in this universe but you and your magnificent cunt.

Hux abandons himself, spilling deep within you with a groan, every muscle in his body aching as his own climax finds him and his vision goes white. His heart leaves his chest, no other reason to beat now that he’s had this.

You fall into him, stroking one hand absentmindedly over his hair, your shaking bodies unable to do anything but breathe together. The slap of skin and soft grunts fills the room as Ren chases his own release, breath stuttering in his chest when he finds it, ropes of his thick, white cum painting down your spine and then he collapses, too.

Ren lands in a messy heap, half on top of you and half on the bed, smearing his own spend over his skin. Without warning, Hux finds Ren’s mouth against his own in a fierce, urgent kiss. 

Hux waits for some kind of repulsion to overcome him, waits for the return of the burning hatred that normally occupies his chest whenever Ren is present, but it never comes, a different kind of burning taking his place. More than anything, he’s annoyed. Annoyed how good Ren’s mouth feels against his own. Annoyed that he wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

“There,” Ren says, rolling back on the mattress, relieving you of the weight of his body, “now both of you are mine.”

Hux scoffs, offended at the implication, but he can tell you notice the way his cock twitches inside of you at the thought. You smile knowingly, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you roll off of him on the other side, the three of you lying together in the rosy-colored afterglow.

Minutes pass, or hours, Hux is unsure how many when he finally decides to move, his muscles stiff and aching.

“I should return to my quarters,” he says, lifting himself to his feet and reassembling the pieces of his uniform. You move to sit up, but Ren holds you in place with a gentle hand.

“Rest, love,” he says quietly, “I’ll show him to the door.”

Hux leaves you with one final kiss, one of longing, and hope and gratitude. Your fingers brush against his just before he leaves.

There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two men as they move through the abandoned living area.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Ren says as Hux stops just before the threshold, turning to look at him. 

“I didn’t expect that it would,” he replies. Both men know that they’re lying to each other. And maybe, at this moment, while their skin is still warm from a shared love and the scent of your perfume lingers on both of their clothes, it’s a form of kindness to keep believing that this wouldn’t change their world. For now, this is enough.

Hux returns to his quarters, alone but not lonely. For the first time he can remember since he boarded the Supremacy, he sleeps through the night. 

[honeytae]

I think we should leave before you dedicate another song to me.

hi bubs!! so this is just the reader dealing with a very drunk jinnie doing karaoke ft. platonic hoseok, jimin, and jungkook. real chaotic, lots of drunken fluffy fun ahead. i hope you guys enjoy <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: fluff word count: 2.2k

“Jin, you should slow down.”

“Jinnie, you have to work early tomorrow.”

“Love, did you just order another?”

Despite all your reminders, Jin had continued drinking throughout the night, tossing back alcohol with glazed-over eyes, his movements and speech becoming more and more slacked with each emptied glass. 

And now here you were, seated in a booth between Hobi and Jungkook, all eyes glued to your boyfriend swaying in front of the karaoke machine across the bar. 

“Jesus, how much did he have?” Hoseok asked, cringing when Jin dropped the microphone, the emphasized ‘thud’ resounding through the building. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “but I blame Jimin.” You all looked across the bar to the man raising hell with shots in hand, tossing them back as if they were water as he continued shouting song requests at Jin. 

“Sometimes I don’t know why I come out with this group.” Hoseok grumbled, Jungkook chuckling in response.

Hoseok, a glass of water in hand, was completely sober apart from the sip of Jin’s wine he had earlier. Originally, he had hoped to call it an early night; a plan that was foiled as soon as his friends decided to order copious rounds of shots for the whole bar.

You and Jungkook were in similar conditions, limiting yourselves to watch after the drunker half of the friend group, scoping the scene out from one of the booths by the exit. 

Your attention was brought back to Seokjin when he cleared his throat into the microphone, exaggerating the action as he waited for your eyes to meet his. 

Raising your eyebrows in amusement at the man, he winked at you, causing you to dramatically fall back into your seat with a hand over your chest. 

Smiling at the sound of his giggles into the microphone, you watched as his finger moved around on the touchscreen below him, all three of you laughing when the familiar instrumental started.

“Is he kidding right now?” Jungkook’s nose scrunched up in laughter, resting his forehead in his palm with a shake of his head. 

“Unfortunately, he is one hundred percent serious.” You answered with a smile, watching your boyfriend bob his head to the beat of the symbals before coming in to read the lyrics. 

Hoseok’s loud laughter filled the room as Seokjin began singing the first words of Sweet Caroline, thoroughly amused at his older friend swaying to the music onstage. 

Your eyes were momentarily deterred by the sound of Jimin whooping at your boyfriend from the counter, serving as his hype man as you let your head fall into your hands. 

“Touchin’ me, touchin’ you.” He pointed at you, Hoseok laughing harder as he clapped his hands together in front of his face, collapsing back into the seat as his eyes clenched shut. 

“Sweet Caroline,” your boyfriend sang out while smiling at you, making you giggle as he moved his hips to the following ‘bum, bum, bum.’ 

“God, he’s blasted.” Jungkook snorted beside you, you chuckling with him as you watched the man clumsily sway his body to the beat of the song. 

“He’s having fun.” You shrugged, Jungkook watching your hand as you dug into your bag, laughing when you raised your illuminated phone screen and moved it back and forth along to the beat.

Quick to follow your action, the men on either side of you reached for their own devices, showing their support for their bandmate as he continued singing the entirety of the song, stepping back from the microphone stand when the instrumental faded out. 

Cheering for the man, you raised your hands above your head to clap for him, yelling out praises for him as drunken people around the room did the same. 

Seokjin suppressed a shy smile as he stepped off the stage, eyes set on you with a slight pout to his bottom lip, cheeks flushed in light pink as the corners of his mouth pressed into his plush cheeks. 

He was a bit unsteady as he walked, just enough to be noticeable if you were really looking for it, but not enough for people around him to be bothered. 

“Hi, baby.” Jin cooed at you, making grabby hands at you as he messily collapsed into the booth, your arms welcoming him into a hug as he rested his temple against your shoulder, legs haphazardly draped across the seat so that his ankles hung off into the aisle. 

Bringing your hand up to his head, you brushed his hair away from his face, pushing it back and lightly scratching at his scalp as the younger men watched in amusement. 

“Hey hyung, you having a good time?” Jungkook smirked, chuckling when the older man nodded innocently, wide-eyed expression making his younger friend giggle.

“I fucking killed it up there.” He mentioned, briefly glancing up at you for confirmation, making you giggle too as you nodded your head for him. 

“You fucking killed it up there, love. Better than Diamond.” You affirmed, your boyfriend mouthing the words to himself before nodding with a slight grin, clumsily placing his head back down onto your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Are you having fun?” He slurred, you humming positively as you rubbed your palm in circles on his back.

“I am,” You agreed, “although,” you paused as Seokjin lifted his head to pout up at you, “I think we should leave before you dedicate another song to me.” You grinned, the man grinning back at you before settling back into your hold again.

He was quite literally latched onto you like a child in the middle of the bar, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you threaded your fingers through his soft tendrils, entertaining his mumbling about random topics as you tried to get him to drink some of your water. 

Jungkook and Hobi soon went to the bar in search of a new glass of water for the man, each going to a separate side of the counter to try to gather an employee’s attention. 

It was when Jin quieted that you began to feel concerned, leaning over his slumped frame to catch a glimpse at his closed eyes, staring before you began shaking his shoulder slightly to rouse him.

“You okay?” You asked as his eyes began fluttering up at you, hearing him whine as he scooted closer to you, burying his face into your neck further as you rubbed at his back. 

“Mm. Tired.” He mumbled into your skin, pressing his lips to the spot.

“Ready to go home, baby?” You asked softly, cheering internally when you felt him nod his head against you, his weakened body sitting up straight with your help as you tried to gather your bag with your other arm.

“I can take that.” He reached his hand out for you to place the bag into, making you chuckle lightly as you agreed, his fingers gripping the strap as you guided his other arm over your shoulders. 

Slowly coming to a stand with the man hanging on your back, you glanced over at the boys at the bar, offering a wave when Jungkook’s gaze found yours. 

Quickly shuffling over to you, he ruffled his hair out of his eyes, shifting his focus to the half-asleep man on your shoulder with a slight grin. 

“Hey, you want some help?” He offered, doe eyes eagerly shining back at you as you shook your head no. 

“I think I’ll be able to get him in fine, I just-” 

A crash interrupted your words, all three of your heads diverting to the source of the noise with wide eyes. 

Jimin was on the floor instead of his stool, a shattered glass previously full of some kind of clear alcohol spilled all over the ground beside his body as Hoseok tugged on his arms with an annoyed expression to get him to stand.

“And it looks like you’re needed here.” You raised your eyebrows at the scene, Jungkook sighing as he nodded, frowning at the scene before he turned back to you, retreating backward to Jimin.

“Call us if you need anything, okay?” 

You nodded, wishing him luck before focusing your attention back on the man hanging on your arm, slowly turning to exit the building to not make Seokjin’s world spin any more than it currently was. 

“Jimin’s so drunk.” He slurred, causing you to snort a laugh back, humming in agreement as you encouraged your boyfriend to step with you with a secured grip on his torso.

Walking down the street proved to be quite difficult with the tall man slung over your frame, arm thrown across your shoulders so that his weight was fully resting on you. 

Your hand tightly clutched his over your collarbone, the other hand gripping his waist as your arm wrapped around his torso, his feet trudging along beside yours to keep up with the pace. 

You hummed along to the jumbled words he said, only picking up certain details and names through the slurred sentences leaving his mouth as you tried to lug his body along the sidewalk, fully concentrated on getting him to the car.

Finally reaching the vehicle, you leaned the man up against the passenger side door, patting your pockets for the keys and sifting through your bag, frowning when you came up empty-handed. 

Remembering that Seokjin had been the one to drive earlier, you turned to the man, biting your lip to contain the smile on your face when you recognized the tune from back at the karaoke machine being hummed by his throat. 

“Do you have the keys, baby?” You asked, Seokjin’s eyes widening at the question before he furrowed his brows, the pats of his palms against his thighs exaggerated by the liquor in his system.

You had to suppress a laugh when he gasped upon finding the metal in his pocket, producing it with a proud grin causing you to lean forward to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you.” You said as you took the keys into your hand, offering your arm around his torso once again to guide him away from the car, the man stumbling after you to allow you space to open the door for him. 

“I don’t know how much I can help with this part, love.” You admitted as you helped him lean against the car seat, the man nodding as he put his palms on the seat behind him. 

“I think I got it.” He said, quickly boosting himself up from the ground to the seat with a triumphant grin, making you nearly coo at his adorable innocence.

Helping him place his long legs into the car, you watched as he fumbled with the seatbelt beside him, finally succeeding as the buckle clicked at his fingers scrambling movements. 

Soft smile pressing into his full cheeks, Seokjin glanced up at you after his achievement, giddily mirroring your expression when you grinned at the content look on his face. 

Even though it was obvious he’d be feeling it tomorrow, you were happy that Jin got to relax and have some fun tonight. He deserved it after everything he faced daily, so much worry and concern going into others that he forgot about the well-being of the most important person; himself. 

“You good?” You smiled, the man nodding as he shot you a thumbs up, making you laugh as you retreated from the car. 

“Good.”

Shutting the door behind him, you rounded the front, opening the driver's side to lift yourself into the vehicle with a huff. 

The car started with a low hum, lights coming up on the display telling you that it was just short of 3 am, making you cringe even more at the amount of sleep Seokjin would get before having to wake for work in the morning.

He didn’t seem to pay any mind though, tapping his fingers against his thighs as he played an imaginary song in his head. The carefree action made you smile again, staring for a moment. Drunk Jin truly was a treasure.

 “Music?” He suddenly mumbled, you chuckling at him for a moment before reaching for your phone, handing him the device to connect to the aux cord as you buckled your seatbelt. 

Your lips quirked into a knowing smile when the intro to Sweet Caroline filled your ears for the second time tonight, glancing over at his smirking face with a giggle. 

“You’re something else, dear.” You sighed, pushing his hair back off his forehead as he beamed at you, high-pitched chuckles filling the car. 

Clutching the gear stick, you prepared to pull out of the parking spot, double-checking in your mirror for any cars to potentially catch you off guard. 

Placing his hand over yours, Seokjin momentarily halted your actions, your gaze locking on his dark eyes as they shone back at you in the night.

“I love you so much.” He pouted, making you smile as you leaned forward to gently press your lips against his, pulling back with a swipe of your thumb against his chin. 

“I love you too, Jinnie.”

“Baby?” 

“Hm.” You looked over to him, the man gazing over at you as he slumped back in his seat, tired eyes meeting yours as they squinted at you. 

“Am I as drunk as Jimin?” He asked, head tilted a bit as he awaited your answer. 

“For sure, love.” You answered with a chuckle, switching gears with a grin as Seokjin clung to your arm beside you, absentmindedly swaying to the beat of the music in the background. 

[fruitcoops]

eve omg omg omg the jules fic was so amazing!!!! i'm so excited for the rest :))))

Here’s part two of Adventures in Babysitting! The editing was being finnicky, so I’m sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Are you warm enough?” Sirius asked as he swiped Jules’ bangs beneath the edge of his beanie. Jules nodded, still sleepy even at seven thirty in the morning. “D’accord, let’s get going. Re, did you let Hattie out?”

“Yep, she’s all set in the living room.” Remus kissed him as he passed, hauling his duffel up and resting his hand between Jules’ shoulder blades to guide him down the steps. “Careful, buddy, it’s slippery.”

“I know,” Jules mumbled. “D’you think it’ll snow?”

Sirius looked up—the sky was still fairly dark, but smudges of thick grey clouds seemed to be rolling in. “Probably.”

The drive to the rink was quiet and peaceful; a six o’clock wake up call was tough even on the best of mornings, when they didn’t have a third tiny person to worry about. Regulus sounded like he was waking as they left the house, and Sirius hoped he’d stick around long enough to say goodbye. Pascal’s house wasn’t far, but Sirius knew he would miss having him around.

“Morning, boys,” Remus called as they entered the locker room.

“Morning,” Kasey yawned, stretching his thigh out. “How’s the kid?”

“Sleepy.”

“Big mood. He’s with Moody again today?”

“Yep. They’ll probably come watch again at some point.” Remus smiled to himself. “Thank you guys for showing off yesterday, by the way. He couldn’t stop talking about it the whole evening.”

“Who’s ready to win a game?” James whooped, barging in and looking far too awake for his own good.

Leo frowned. “Game’s tomorrow, Pots.”

“It’s never too early to get hyped, baby rookie.” James patted him on the head as he passed and Leo scowled.

“I’m not a rookie anymore! Loops is!”

“If I call Loops a rookie, he’s going to make sure I never have children again,” James laughed, throwing a t-shirt to Remus from across the aisle. “Here, I borrowed that a couple weeks ago.”

Remus gave it a tentative sniff. “Dude, you didn’t even wash it?”

“It’s something to remember me by.”

“You’re a walking nightmare.”

“Nah, you love me.”

There was a new intensity to their practice that morning—they had beat the Ravens before, sure, but that didn’t mean they were guaranteed to win this time. Even James centered himself, tapping a puck back and forth with Remus until it was nothing but a blur between them. Sirius didn’t see Jules or Moody at any point throughout their ice time, which left him a little disappointed when the timer went off and it was time to hit the gym.

They all did lighter workouts, more like cool down exercises rather than legitimate muscle-building routines. Sirius let himself fall into the rhythm of squats, pushups, and jump-roping until each beat of his heart aligned with the impact of his feet on the mats. The jingle of his ringtone finally signaled the end of practice and a collective sigh went up.

“See you tomorrow, gents,” Nado said as he stood and stretched his back. Sirius felt the mood change as the pre-game heaviness settling over them like a weighted blanket.

Remus wandered over and gave his shoulder a light nudge. “I’ll shower and get Jules while you finish up, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick.” Sirius pressed their foreheads together in lieu of a kiss before turning back to the rest of the guys as stretches began. “You know the spiel. Get some sleep, carb load, all that jazz.”

“Got it, Cap,” Leo said. He tried for a smile, though he looked troubled.

“The Ravens are a great team, but we’re better. We beat them before and we can do it again. Shake off the weird vibes, okay? We can do this.” We have to if we want to make it to the playoffs, he thought instinctively before reaching over to tap the strip of wooden floor that the mats didn’t quite cover. Nope. No playoff thoughts. Just the game.

Eight minutes and a dozen fist-bumps later, they arrived at the locker room in a jumble of bodies. Sirius paused at the end of the hall and heard more than one quiet ‘awww’; Remus was waiting outside, as promised, with Jules fast asleep in his arms. He winked when he saw them and held a finger to his lips, stepping out of the way so they could sneak past.

Moving over a dozen fully-grown hockey players through a small space was not the most stealthy of activities, especially when all of them lingered to get a look at the sleeping child—it was no surprise that Jules woke up partway through and blinked drowsily at them. “Hmm?”

“It’s okay, buddy, you can sleep,” Remus murmured, hitching him a little higher up. “We’re heading home soon.”

“But I wanna watch,” Jules said, pouting slightly. Kasey made a soft noise and put his hand over his heart.

“You can watch the game tomorrow,” James said in a gentle voice. It wasn’t baby talk, persay, but Sirius had definitely heard him use that same soothing tone when Harry started to fuss. Jules snuggled his face into Remus’ neck again with a hum.

Sirius showered quickly and grabbed his bag, barely checking to see if his stuff was all there before ducking out of the locker room with a final mock-salute to the guys. “How long has he been asleep?” he asked as he picked up Remus’ duffel.

“He was out cold on the PT table.” Remus laughed under his breath. “Moody said he was a firecracker for about an hour and a half, but he came back from the bathroom and found him all curled up.”

“That’s so fucking cute. Did you get a picture?”

“Already sent it to my folks.” Remus carefully set Jules in the backseat of the car and buckled him in while Sirius closed the trunk as quietly as he could. Once they were in their respective seats, Remus leaned over the console and gave him a proper kiss, nice and slow. It sent a buzz all the way down to Sirius’ toes.

The lights were off at the house when they arrived; Jules was fully awake by then and Sirius watched his face fall at the same time his own heart clenched. “Regulus left.”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s okay, we’ll see him tomorrow.” Sirius added the last sentence partly for himself—he tried to keep in mind that Regulus was an adult and had moved out ages ago, but they had settled into their routine so quickly. He didn’t want the house to feel empty again.

“Hey.” Remus’ hand was light on his elbow and he blinked, looking over at his smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, all good. Let’s get some lunch.” He offered a smile that he knew was weak, but Remus linked their hands all the same and kissed his cheek before getting both their bags out of the back.

Jules was playing hopscotch with the checkerboard of ice patches on the sidewalk; it had snowed while they were at practice, after all. There was a faint bark from inside and Jules gasped happily, racing toward the front door with reckless abandon and pressing his face against the wood. “Hi, Hattie-girl!”

Sirius unlocked the door, bending slightly to absorb her impact as she tumbled into them both and covered Jules’ face in kisses, wiggling to pieces with sheer joy. She sprinted for her toy box and grabbed a knotted rope, trotting back to Jules for him to grab the other end and tug.

“Do we have leftovers from last night?’ Remus called from the doorway when Sirius headed into the kitchen.

“I don’t think so, but we have turkey. How does a sandwich sound?”

“F—uh, really great.” Remus grimaced as he walked in and dropped his wallet on the counter. “I have got to be better about my language. Mom’s still mad at me for teaching Jules to say ‘fuck’, and that was years ago.”

“You had no qualms about teaching Harry bad words.”

“And you had no qualms about being on a desert island without me,” Remus said coolly. “Yet here we are.”

“Touché.” Sirius turned around to construct the sandwiches and felt someone lightly slap his ass. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Remus grinned, stealing a slice of cheese from his small pile and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“I don’t know why you do that.”

“Slap your ass or steal food? I do both because I love you.”

“I meant sitting on the counter. You know, where we eat.”

“I like to feel extra tall,” Remus said, reaching for another slice of cheese until Sirius gently smacked his hand away.

“Shortie.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jules said from the doorway with a smile. He looked quite disheveled from playing with the dog.

Remus sighed. “It is, indeed. Don’t repeat it.”

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“I could.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“She’d blame you for teaching me.”

“I’ll tell dad.”

“He’d think it was hilarious, and then he’d tell mom and she’d chew you out.”

Remus rolled his eyes and scooted over to make room for Jules to hop up next to him. Sirius threw his hands in the air. “Both of you! What the hell? Who taught you to do that?”

They shared a glance and shrugged. Sirius was starting to understand why people thought it was creepy how similar he and Regulus looked. “It’s a side effect of being the wiry kids on the block when everyone else is taller,” Remus said, snorting as Jules flexed his skinny arms.

Sirius handed them each a sandwich and, with a heavy sigh, boosted himself up to join them. The marble was cold, but it was…kind of fun to swing his legs and get a few extra inches of height. “I think he likes it,” Jules stage-whispered to Remus.

“It’s not horrible,” Sirius conceded, taking a bite of his food.

“Come to the Dark Side, we have the best places to sit.”

Jules widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers at Sirius until they were all laughing too hard to actually eat, then fell into silence as hunger took precedence after not having anything substantial since breakfast. “Are you good with reading or watching TV for a bit while we take a nap?” Remus asked between sips of water. Jules nodded, still making his way through his sandwich.

“What’re we doing after?”

Sirius paused at the same time Remus stopped halfway through a drink of water. They made eye contact, and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing: oh, fuck, we actually have to do things with a child around. “Uh, we’re…going to the park,” Remus said.

Jules made a happy noise around his sandwich and swung his legs. “Cool!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Okay, mom.”

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The park was a winter wonderland, to say the least. Four inches of snow coated the grassy field and weighed down the branches of the trees lining the playfield, where about a dozen kids built snowmen with their parents. Hattie’s breath fogged the window as they parked and her wagging tail lightly smacked Jules’ forehead every few seconds.

Jules was out of the car the second Sirius turned the engine off, grabbing Hattie’s leash and leaping into the nearest snowbank with a whoop. Remus burst out laughing and followed him with a final glance over his shoulder to Sirius.

They were making halfhearted snow angels when he finally wandered over to the snowbank. They looked so peaceful, so content and happy.

Remus gasped when the first snowball hit him dead center in his chest. Jules laughed even harder until the next one landed in the neck of his coat and poured a veritable waterfall of snow down his front. They both stared up at Sirius in shock and betrayal; he grinned and tucked his chilly hands into his pockets.

“Go for the legs, Jules,” Remus advised as he scrambled up, keeping one hand on his beanie so it didn’t fall off.

Sirius barely made it three steps before Jules grabbed him around the shin and nearly tripped him. He did his best not to drag the kid face-first through the snow, but Jules didn’t seem to mind as he hooked an arm around his other ankle and Remus collided with his shoulder, sending all three of them to the ground in a heap. “Ugh.”

“Gotcha,” Jules said, clambering onto his chest with a breathless smile. Hattie, who had come over to see what all the fuss was about, began licking his half-frozen ear.

Remus sprinkled a handful of snow onto his face, slowly obscuring his view until everything was icy and white. “Vengeance is sweet, huh, buddy?”

“Totally.”

Sirius wiped the snow away and blinked up at two pairs of amber eyes. “I surrender?”

“I should hope so,” Remus laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He kissed his nose in consolation as Jules took Hattie’s leash and ran off toward the playfield, where he would no doubt make seven new best friends within the hour.

“Cute kid,” a middle-aged woman with a kind smile said as she stopped next to them.

“Isn’t he?” Sirius smiled as Hattie rolled onto her back for belly rubs from three different kids.

“How old?”

“Ten.”

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Remus. “You must have been young when you had him.”

“What? Oh, no, he’s my little brother!” he said quickly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, you just look so similar,” she laughed, clearly embarrassed.

“No worries, it happens all the time. Which one is yours?”

She pointed to a giggling little girl on the swings, whose dark curls were braided back into a poofy bun. “Lena turned twelve yesterday.”

“Aw, happy birthday to her!” Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus’ waist and put his hand in his back pocket, pulling him close for warmth. They both waved to Jules when he looked over and beamed at them.

The temperature dropped rapidly as four thirty came and the sun began to set; soon, the fat flakes of snow grew smaller and icier as they flurried around the park. Lena and her mother left about half an hour before Remus started bouncing on his toes in an effort to keep warm. Sirius considered himself a decent fiancé, so he figured it would be best to not let Remus freeze solid.

Jules was damp and shivering with melted snow when they got back to the house and Hattie immediately laid down in front of the heater vent as he ran upstairs for a hot bath; Remus and Sirius peeled their soaked outer layers off and hung them in the bathroom to dry.

“If he gets hypothermia, mom’s gonna kill me,” Remus muttered as he shook Jules’ scarf out over the bathtub, though Sirius could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured him with a gentle hip check. “We were only there for a couple hours and we left pretty quick after it got really cold.”

“He was shivering in the car.”

“Re.” Sirius set his coat down and took Remus’ face between his hands. “Jules will be just fine.”

“We would be really good parents.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Not now, obviously, but I think we’d be good parents.” Sudden nervousness shadowed his face. “Sorry, that was way out of the blue. Do you—do you not want that?”

“No, I do! I really, really do but…we’ve never talked about it before. Like, in depth.” I wouldn’t be a good dad. I barely know what a good parent looks like, aside from yours and the Potters.

Remus relaxed. “Oh. Well, I don’t think it would be a great idea to adopt kids while we’re still working full time playing hockey, but in the future…” He shrugged, the edge of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “I think about it sometimes.”

“Me, too.” There was a splash upstairs and they both laughed. “Well, I guess we’re about to have an indoor swimming pool.”

“I’ll get the towels.”

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

Sirius was almost done with the dinner dishes when he realized he hadn’t heard much noise from Jules’ room in quite a while, and yet Remus had yet to come back downstairs. He paused, listening to the muffled voices—no, not voices. Just one.

He rinsed the last plate and washed his hands, making a face at the weird soap texture and the ensuing dryness of his knuckles. There were few chores he genuinely disliked, but dishes were one of them.

The door to the guest bedroom was still open when he went upstairs, and a soft light shone out. He stopped in the doorway, a greeting dying in his throat.

“—‘hold it up!’ said Gandalf. ‘And look closely!’” Remus lowered his voice into a grumble as he read Gandalf’s lines; Jules was entranced, though he struggled to keep his eyes open for more than three seconds at a time. “As Frodo did so, he now saw fine lines, finer than the finest pen-strokes, running along the ring, outside and inside: lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Sirius, flushing faint pink. In the pause, Jules sighed softly. “Why’d you stop?”

“We’ll pick it up again tomorrow night,” Remus whispered, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Sleep well, buddy.”

“Sweet dreams,” Sirius added.

Jules mumbled and snuggled deeper under the blankets while Remus set the book on the nightstand and turned the bedside lamp off.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius said as soon as he had closed the door behind them and they walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Was that The Hobbit?”

“Fellowship of the Ring. It’s one of my favorites, and he picked it up this afternoon while we were napping.” Remus pulled his shirt off and sifted through their sheets for his pajama pants. “Did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, baby. That was really sweet of you.”

“You were busy being adorable.”

“Shush,” Remus scoffed, though the blush returned to his cheeks as he curled up under the covers and made grabby hands toward Sirius. “C’mere.”

The bed was cold when he laid down, but Remus was warm, and soon they were tangled together as the moon shone through their window. Sirius drifted off to slow breaths and dreams of the future, where maybe—just maybe—their kid wouldn’t have to leave after four more days.