#I saw an old ask somebody sent me

[dixons-sunshine]

A/n: It's my birthday today, so I wrote this as a little gift to myself. I hope y'all like it!

Soft prodding. That's what you felt when you were stirred from your slumber. Groggily, you opened your eyes and blinked to clear the fog from your mind. You groaned softly and wiped the sleep away from your eyes, caught off guard when you heard a deep, throaty chuckle from behind you. More soft prodding followed soon after, and after your mind started to catch up with you, you could clearly tell what it was—kisses. Somebody was pressing soft kisses to your bare skin. You smiled fondly and turned around in the bed, locking eyes with none other than your gorgeous partner—Daryl Dixon.

Daryl sent you a small, lopsided smile before placing a final soft kiss to your cheek. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek in his big hand, his calloused thumb gently caressing your soft skin. “Happy birthday, Darlin'.”

You groaned again, eliciting another chuckle from the archer. “God, that's today?” you asked with a laugh. “Thanks for reminding me. I'm getting so old. My wrinkles will start showing soon. My sexy days are coming to an end.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, that's not possible.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead for added emphasis. “Yer sexy days are jus' beginnnin'. Bet yer gon' look real good when the gray hairs start comin' in.”

You groaned again and playfully whacked his chest. “Don't jinx it! I wanna keep the gray hairs away as long as possible,” you laughed.

Daryl shrugged. “Either way, it don' matter to me. Yer hot as fuck regardless.” Reaching over to his bedside table, he picked up a small box—a box that hadn't been there the night before when the two of you went to bed—and turned back to you, his hands nervously fiddling with the box. “I know ya said that ya don' want nothin' for yer birthday, but I, uh...” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I got ya somethin'.”

Bringing yourself up into a seated position, you gingerly took the small box from him. You sent him a small, fond smile, before opening the box. When you saw what item awaited you inside, you gasped and looked up at your partner with a surprised smile. “It's beautiful,” you whispered. It truly was—it was a necklace, but not just any necklace. On the chain, one of Daryl's bike's wheel nuts hung loosely, but inside the small object was something else. A small jasper stone was planted in the middle, making for a truly beautiful necklace. It was perfect.

Daryl shrugged nonchalantly, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “It ain't much, but I hope ya like it. I took one'a my bike's wheel nuts and that jasper stone ya found a few months ago and had the blacksmith up at Hilltop merge it together. Figured it would make for a good enough present. If ya don' like it, I won't blame ya. Like I said, it ain't much, but—”

You effectively cut him off by pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Pulling back, you sent him a smile. “I love it. Almost as much as I love you.”

Daryl scoffed but a smile tugged at his lips. “I love ya more, Sunshine.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, Peach.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 3)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: slightly shorter but hopefully worth it! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Are You That Somebody?

The two of you stepped through portal after portal in search of the perfect Logan who was willing to help you save your timeline. The first one was a little too short for Wade’s liking, the next one too 80’s he had said, the one after that was too busy fighting the Hulk, the one after that too old, and the one after him…you couldn’t really think of anything to say about the one called Patch except that you found him the most attractive with his eyepatch out of all of them, unfortunately though he seemed to hate Wade the most.

Wade stopped as a portal closed behind you both, as he approached a different Wolverine from behind, this one was alone in a garage and was working on his motorcycle with his back turned to you smoking a cigar.

“Now we’re talking.” He said rubbing his hands together like he was warming up. Every Wolverine so far has tried to kill him on the spot but had spared you for some odd reason, so he probably was preparing himself. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there.” He sounded like he was licking his lips under the mask.

This Wolverine was different, his build looked bigger than the other ones you had met, bulkier and he stood differently too as if he had more confidence in himself.

When he turns to get a good look at you both Wade lets out a girlish squeal as he covers his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, my fuck!” He shouts excitedly smacking you in the arm. “The Cavillrine! The legends are true.”

Now that this one was facing you, you could clearly see his face, he looked completely different from the others, still rugged but not as attractive to you. He looks you dead in the eyes and like all the others before him froze in place when he finally saw you, eyes unreadable as his nose flared.

It shocked you both when this Wolverine calls out your name, clear as day as Wade looks back and forth comically between you two incredulously. He steps forward towards you and you take a step back behind Wade, seeing first hand how violent Wolverine’s can be.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck that was but may I say, sir, on behalf of all humanity, this just feels right!” Wade says stepping in between you two, breaking the intense eye contact. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street.”

“You were just leaving.” This Wolverine snaps calmly as he flicks his wrist, reloading his arms and drawing his claws. With a hard smack of his arm he miscalculates and sends Wade flying into you, through another portal he had opened up at the last minute behind you.

The impact of his body sent you barreling into a pool table as you both flew out of the portal. Messing up whatever game they had going on, a few patrons of the dingy bar you were now in glared at the two of you angrily, one being so bold as to step up to you before Wade stands up grabbing the irate man by his neck, almost instantly putting him to sleep.

Pulling you to your feet, you dusted yourself off from being on the grimy floor and readjusted your clothes. It was getting late, you had no idea how many hours you guys had left but you still hadn’t found a suitable Wolverine to replace your own yet and your chest was starting to tighten up in desperation and fear.

Looking to say something to Wade you realize while you were lost in yourself he had walked off, and instead was going up to a man at the bar. This one you could instantly recognize from behind from his hair tufts alone.

He had found another Wolverine and by the looks of his slouched shoulders this one was neck deep in an alcohol induced pity party.

You followed behind Wade just reaching the bar when the bartender came and took the cup from Wolverine looking equal parts annoyed and scared of the man in front of him. “I told you, you’re not welcome here, you’re not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.” He said calmly not wanting to cause a big scene but still wanting to get his point across sternly.

“Just give me one more drink and I’ll leave.” The Wolverine answered as he looked down at where his cup had been, he looked the part of a kicked puppy.

“That’s not how this works.” The bartender started again but was interrupted when Wade leaned on the counter beside Wolverine “It does now, leave the bottle thanks.” He says shooing the man away. The bartender stares at the three of you oddly before going off to wipe down another part of the bar, leaving you to it.

This Wolverine’s nose flares as he audibly inhales and snaps his head to look past Wade at you. Unlike with the others before him the emotions in his eyes were clear as day as he looked at you, or more like through you.

Shock, fear, guilt and then ultimately hate welled up in his hazel eyes as he snatched up the bottle of jack the bartender had left beside him talking a few gulps.

“I know you, bub?” He asked you with a hard voice, clearly he did or at least he knew some version of you from this timeline. “Cause you got a lot of fucking nerve wearing the face of a dead girl ‘round me.”

Dead? Were you dead in this timeline?

You open your mouth to speak but Wade cuts you off as he holds up a gloved finger to your lips shushing you.

“Look peanut, I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, a lot of emotional turmoil to get out and eventually a heartfelt confession gets thrown into the mix followed by, judging from the sex eyes you’re giving each other, a whole lot of fucky fucky time but we’re kinda on a time crunch here so I’m gonna need you to come with us right now.” He said, nodding towards the door. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, you loved Wade to pieces but sometimes you wish he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Look, lady, I’m not interested.” Wolverine said, tearing his glare away from you to stare down Wade, he thought his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous and that was saying something, then he felt his gaze drift back to you, taking in your scent again.

Not only did you look like her, only a little younger, but you even smelled like her too, albeit just a little bit different. That was something he knew deep in his gut that couldn’t be replicated no matter what copying powers you had, so how the fuck were you standing here in front of him when he himself had buried your dead body almost a year ago?

Snapping his attention back to the conversation, he hadn’t heard a word red had said to him.

“Why would I go with you?” He asked cutting Wade off as he took another sip from the bottle before drunkenly poking him in the forehead

“Because, unfortunately, I need you. We,” he emphasizes gesturing between the two of you, “Need you, our entire world needs you.”

“You guys gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender comes back looking between Wade and Wolverine, clearly tired of having you all in his establishment. Wade looks at the man like he had sprouted a second head before slowly turning back to Wolverine.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yup.” The Wolverine says, sounding defeated, like he was tired of even putting up a fight.

“I can tell you sort of have this ‘don’t get too close, I’ll only break your heart’ vibe going here, but every other Wolverine would have really hurt me by now and we’re sort of on the tic-tic, so upsy-daisy.” Wade said standing to his feet pulling Wolverine up from his barstool. He shoves Wade back away from him and you rush behind Wade to pull him away from him at the tell tale snikt sound of his claws coming out, only when you looked down at his balled fists you could only see just the tip of them peeking through his tanned skin, as if he had stopped himself midway from fully pulling them out.

“Whiskey dick with the claws huh? It’s quite common in Wolverines over 40.” Wade jokes half heartedly trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse, you weren’t quite sure.

“Trust me pal, you don’t want this.” The Wolverine said his voice husky as he stared you two down silently pleading for you to leave before he hurt you like he hurt the others.

Sighing heavily Wade pulls out a gun and presses it to Wolverine’s head “Unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead, I suggest you reconsider.” He gestured to the door with it. “Let’s go, Peanut.”

With a laugh the Wolverine leans into the gun’s muzzle staring right at Wade.

You had had enough. Walking around Wade you stand in between the two men, placing one arm on Wolverine's shoulder and the other on Wade’s arm silently asking him to lower his gun, which he did just ever so slightly, before turning your attention back to Wolverine.

“Look, Wade isn’t always the best at articulating what he needs without making it a joke, but we really do need your help.”

With a snort Wolverine shrugs off your burning touch from his shoulder, you were making him hot, too hot for the stuffy bar, so he reaches back over the bar to grab the bottle of jack again. God you even sounded just like her.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Wolverine!”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hated it when you called him Wolverine.

“Please! Just please!” You cried out grabbing him by his sleeve, he turned to look at you again, his eyes searching your face.

“We really need you! You’re the only one who can fix this! Trust me I would take literally anybody other than you if I could,” you said, growing increasingly frustrated and irritated with the man in front of you.

Ouch.

“But it has to be you! So are you gonna be that somebody or not?”

The Wolverine gets closer to you, you can practically smell the alcohol and his natural musk radiating off of him at his close proximity. He looks at you for a long while as if mulling over what you had just said to him before answering with a “Not.”

“Oh you motherf-!”

You were cut off as Wolverine stands to his full height, towering over you. He grabs at the barrel of Wade’s gun, drunkenly to steady himself as he chuckles. He holds up a finger telling you both to wait as he proceeds to chug down the rest of the nearly full bottle of jack.

“Good God. Thirsty little honey badger, aren’t ya?” Wade looks at him in shock, just as Wolverine pulls the now empty bottle away and goes to reply he hiccups before stumbling and dropping to the ground completely dead to the world.

“I guess you’ll have to do.” Wade groans holstering his gun and going to grab the now passed out Wolverine by his shirt, just as he goes to lift he spots something yellow peeking from underneath.

“Ooh. Look at those jammies.” He said as he starts to unbutton the Wolverine’s shirt. “That only took 20 fucking years!”

Heaving him up on his shoulder Wade groans at the weight of his limp adamantium skeleton, and starts to drag him outside with you following close behind.

“Quick help me get his clothes off, Nugget!” He said dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground as he continued to unbutton his clothes.

“Wade what the fuck are you doing?!” You snap at his hands as he strips him down to his superhero costume underneath.

It was bright yellow with blue accents with light scuffs and scratches on it, it was tight to him, almost like a second skin, his gloved hands adorned with special slots for his claws to pop out, just like in your old comic books, you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as they dragged down his body.

“Eye fuck him some more why don’t you.” Wade said suggestively and if he wasn’t wearing the mask you know he’d be wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You stutter trying to defend yourself as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ignoring you Wade stands back to his feet, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over his shoulders as he shoulders his weight. Opening up the TVA device he stole, Wade types something in and opens up a new portal. “Save your lady boner for later Nugget we got a timeline to save!”

You wanted to stop him and tell him that the man he was carrying was insufferable even after only knowing him for a solid 10 minutes and that there was no way he’d have you hot in the pants with the way he was acting but your gut was overcome with a feeling of uncertainty.

A feeling that told you that going back to the TVA would be a trap, but knowing that like always once Wade had his mind set on something that was it, you simply tucked your much smaller self under Wolverine’s other shoulder and helped Wade through the portal.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

silly things I think the brothers have done

not proof read, also I did all of the things on these lists so it's kinda like the brothers as things I have done hehe ( I couldn't come up with some stuff for some of them so forgive me for some brothers having shorter or more boring lists)

alternative title: the brothers as real things I have done (I swear I'm not that insane)

-----

lucifer

use whatever the devildom version of red bull is as an 'emergency tool' to quickly stop being tired only when he really needs to (don't do this)

accidentally sent a formal important email to somebody completely unrelated because it was 3am and he wasn't sharp (poor person had no idea what he was talking about) (this still haunts me)

one time when he was at a farm a peacock kept following him and kept opening its feathers to him no matter how many times he walked away

mammon

always buys something one of his brothers or mc will like in a store when he sees it for them

bought expensive perfume and quit his job two seconds afterwards

made the mistake of online shopping while being drunk and then cried over a mini bag and bought it because it would be cute for his future child

accidentally almost burnt down a school chemistry lab because he put a plastic tube over the fire (the teacher warned him not to do that) (everything was fine the tube was just a little on fire it only had like salt water in it)

leviathan

met his favorite artist and accidentally dropped his bags right before the picture in front of said artist (the artist tried to help him but he said nono its okay while fixing the mess) (he dropped the bag 1 second after asking if it was okay to put it down) (this still haunts me I'm so sorry to the artist for having to see me fight a bag)

messed up karaoke one time when he was home alone and destroyed his voice for the next week

attended a vocaloid concert

satan

accidentally made somebody believe he has a child because he calls a cat his baby or his son and forgot to specify he's talking about a cat

saw a cat meow and paw at somebody he didn't know's front door and he felt bad for it so he rang the doorbell and asked the guy who lives there 'is this your cat?' but the cat already went inside (luckily it was his cat or else that would have been super awkward)

cut his own hair once out of protest because somebody kept forcing him to cut it (they never forced him to do anything with his hair again so it worked) (I was like 11 years old when I did this)

asmodeus

wore platform heels while hiking because he refused to wear hiking shoes (those were the only shoes he brought to the vacation too) (there was no room to bring more because he already overpacked)

when somebody was being rude for no reason over his fashion choices he accidentally said 'not my problem you're allergic to slaying' out loud (I said this to my mom I almost died)

packed a full suitcase and a big tote bag for a one night hotel stay (the suitcase had an extra bag in it too)

sent his profs emails telling them he's sick so he can go to his beauty salons (this happened more than once)

beelzebub

traveled to a different city to buy a lot of a specific type of food and then came back

sometimes has to function as an alarm clock for one of his brothers (belphie) because its impossible to wake him up

stays home with his brothers when they're sick so they don't have to be alone

tried to make an oven pizza in the microwave with his brothers because the oven was not working (don't try this) (it turned out literally wet by the way)

belphegor

planned a way to skip certain class times every day without getting in trouble to sleep more

woke up from a nap extremely disoriented and asked someone what his name is

I'm so sorry I tried to come up with more things for him but I can't its been a week of thinking

[badgers-and-cats]

My Dirty Girl. (Sirius Black x fem!reader)

Masterlist

Synopsis: you hide some very suggestive photos for Sirius to find. 18+!!!

Warnings; age-gap. Reader is in early to mid 20’s. Unprotected PiV (wrap it before you tap it!!) Smut. Not proof read. I think that’s it.

I wasn’t sure how to end this… so apologies in advance!!

@postazkabansiriussupremacy I knew you particularly liked this when I sent it to you👀

A prison escapee, who was more than a decade older than yourself, and once known as the most wanted wizard was never somebody you thought you’d be so attracted to.

And you especially didn’t expect to be hiding your nudes for him to find. Hoping that the fact that the photos were just ordinary muggle photos that didn’t move, you used your mother’s old Polaroid camera to take them, every photo you took was more suggestive than the last.

You knew they were working. You saw and felt the lingering gazes during Order meetings, and the fact that he clearly found it a lot harder to talk to you, especially alone, knowing he’d seen your bare body.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for you to be hiding these photos for him for a month, and he has yet to make a move, you start to get impatient. So, after one Order meeting, you offer to stay over at 12 Grimmauld Place.

“You don’t have to,” he said to you, saying that he wouldn’t be alone in his childhood house, Remus and Tonks were staying over, he tried to argue.

He stopped arguing with the idea of you staying after you suggested to just talk over a bottle of wine. Sitting in the drawing room, your talking soon changes to flirting.

He knows you’re not exactly being subtle about your attraction to him - your suggestive photos in his room that are now covered in his cum prove that. But he cannot help but allow the age gap cause him a little bit of anxiety. Is somebody like him really somebody you’d like to spend your time with? Somebody you’d be attracted to?

His thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your fingers softly on his thigh, it’s subtle enough for him to wonder if it’s intentional, but enough for him to notice it.

“So, what do I need to do get you to touch me?” You ask, after you both finish the bottle of wine.

“You shouldn’t want me,” he managed to get out, trying to ignore his cock hardening in his pants.

“But I do. Please, Sirius. Touch me.” You’re begging now, and he can sense the desperation in your voice, and how can he deny you such a request when he’s been longing for you for so long?

His lips are suddenly on yours. They taste of a mix of the wine you’ve just been sharing and a musky taste that you can’t quite place. They’re rough, his facial hair tickling your face.

His hands make their way to your hair, tugging gently as you make your way to sit on his lap - feeling his hard on instantly. You move your hips slowly and sensually, enjoying the feeling of his pants and his hard cock as you grind against him.

“Darling, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he groaned, pulling away from your lips, his cock now painfully hard.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you say, starting to unbutton his shirt, the moan he let out when the words left your mouth along with the feeling of your hips moving against somehow made you wetter than you were.

Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you helped him get it off, and a few short seconds later, he had taken your shirt off, groaning at the sight of your breasts right there in front of his eyes.

After your bra has been discarded of, his hands almost instantly make their way to touch them, squeezing them with his rough, large hands.

“They’re so much better in person,” he groaned before replacing his hands with his mouth, kissing and sucking eagrly, earning a high pitched moan from your mouth as your hands make their way to his hair - tugging gently.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this, but I’m desperate to feel you inside me,” you manage to get out, way too focused on the feeling of his mouth on your body.

“You’ve taken the words right out of my mouth, darling. I’ve imagined what it would feel like to fuck you for longer than you imagined,” he said, allowing you to get up to strip the rest of your clothes off, as he takes his off, freeing his cock, begging to be inside you.

“Then do it, I want you to fuck me Sirius. Claim me as yours,” you request, lying down on the couch, spreading your legs for the older, attractive wizard in front of you.

He swore he could cum just at the sight of you there in front of him. Legs spread, pussy glistening and begging him for attention.

Usually, he’d be embarrassed at how desperate he feels. But the combination of over a decade of being alone in Azkaban, the shameless flirting, and the drawer full of cum covered Polaroids of the very body in front of him, means he just doesn’t care. He wants to, in your words, claim you as his.

“You are truly magnificent. So beautiful. And all for me,” he compliments, his body now towering over yours, as he lines his cock up with your wet heat, giving it a few pumps first.

Usually, he’d tease, but he’s way too eager to feel your pussy welcome his cock, to feel its heat around him. He pushes the tip in at first to get a taste. And now that he has, he knows he won’t ever be the same again.

The next thrust that followed, he pushed his entire cock into your heat, so that he was now balls deep inside you. He groans at how tight and warm you feel, and you moan at how well he stretches you, you can feel every inch of his cock inside of you.

“Merlin, this is far better than I could’ve ever imagined. You’re going to be the death of me, I swear. You feel so good, gonna let me fuck you, sweet girl?”

“Yes, Sirius, please,” you’re begging now, you’d feel embarrassed at how desperate you sound, but you’re unable to focus on anything other than his cock pushing against your cervix.

Then, it’s like all hell let’s loose. He’s thrusting into you at an almost brutal pace - nothing but the sound of your moans, his hips against yours, and the wet sound of his cock in your pussy can be heard.

“My dirty girl. My dirty, dirty girl. All this time, this is what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you senseless?” He manages to get out, before he starts his attack on your neck. Kisses, and bites all over, there’s certain to be marks once he’s done.

“I won’t last any longer, sweet girl. I'm going to fill your pretty pussy with my cum,” he says as you beg him to fill you up, with a string of pathetic moans and “please’s,” as you feel your own release coming.

“Let it go for me, pretty girl. Show me how much you’ve craved me this past month. Soak my cock and milk me dry,”

And with that, you let go with a high pitched moan, your pussy spasms around his cock, as he stills his hips against yours. His sweet cum painting your walls, filling you up nicely.

For the next minute or two, you stay in that position. His softening cock still inside of your cum-filled pussy, the sounds of you both catching your breath, and you playing with his hair. Both feeling more than content.

“I cannot tell you how long I’ve waiting for that. How much it exceeded my expectations,” you tell him, and he agrees, looking up at you and smiling, kissing your lips - a lot more softly than last time.

“There is one, small problem though,” he says.

“Which is?” You worry.

“I fear that Remus and Tonks may have heard us,” he says. Your face drops. You forgot they were staying over also.

“Though, I suppose it makes a change from them hearing me jerking off to your photos,” he jokes, as he winks, and before pecking your lips again and pulling out of you.

This new relationship is going to be an adventure, to say the least.

[divineei]

TOOTM  zero. old beginnings

! go kyungjun x fem!reader

# relationship lore, first meeting, heavy infatuation, mentions of kyung jun having daddy and mommy issues

a/n. chill yall i swear im putting my whole authorussy on this

months before the school trip…

rain pours on top of the bus stop's roof. although tiny, the cover is enough to prevent kyung jun's clothes from getting even wetter.

if only he had brought an umbrella. he was in such a rush to get out of his house after yet another fight with his parents, he didn't even hear the water falling from the sky before it was too late and was already running around the streets.

kyung jun had no idea how long had passed since he stormed out, not that he cared anyway. he considered this ten times better than all the yelling at home. when he managed to ignore the cold, the little bus stop was peaceful; quiet.

or it was.

he dug in his pocket to take out a cigarette and put it in his mouth when the sound of hurried footsteps stepping on puddles distracted him. he turned his head towards the noise, immediately setting eyes on the figure sprinting towards him: a girl in winter clothes held a bag above her head as a shield from the rain while she ran in his direction. she stopped right next to him, breathing heavily and drenched in water.

kyung jun turned his attention back to his tobacco. he paid her no mind. why would he? he had enough to deal with seeing as he also fell victim to the pouring rain.

he felt the weight of the stranger sitting at the other end of the bench as he took out his lighter. however, rolling the flint wheel was useless as only a spark came out. he tried again. and again. and again, but still no flame. kyung jun's breath rose erratically and his pent-up frustration with it.

"fucking piece of shit", he sent the thing flying with as much force he could manage, making it break into pieces. was nothing supposed to work in his favor? he can't stop misbehaving like he promised his mother, he can't be the top of his class like he promised his father, he can't stop himself from lashing out right in their faces; for fucks sake he can't even light a cigarette. maybe they were right: he was worthless.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw something being handed to him. the stranger had reached her arm out with a lighter in hand. kyung jun's eyes varied from it to the face he'd been ignoring: drops of water were falling from her hair to her cheeks, she wore headphones around her neck and a lit cigarette between her parted lips, with eyes that stared at him through wet lashes, waiting for him to accept the offer.

he reached for the lighter, brought it close to him, and finally took a puff of his cigarette.

"you okay?", asked the pretty girl.

he looked back at her, seemingly taken aback by her interest but nodding nonetheless.

their interaction was cut short with a quick smile from her as she put her headphones on.

in his mind, kyung jun caught himself juggling feelings from shame to disappointment, realizing maybe he wanted somebody to ask if he was alright. he wouldn't have minded an opening to more conversation, even if it was to forget his troubles for just a few minutes. but he understood. i mean, who would care about a stranger on the streets anyway? who would care about him anyway?

the time passed as quickly as did his pack of cigarettes and now, with an empty box in his pocket, kyung jun's anger was rising once again. not because of the distress of his mind though but because of the loud music disturbing his peace.

after what felt like hours of trying to ignore the noise, he decided he had enough and aggressively waved his hand to catch the girl's attention.

"mmh?", she looked at him and removed one of the speakers.

"turn that shit off."

"excuse me?" she scoffed raising her brows.

"i said," kyung jun pointed at the headphones that were now around her neck, "turn it off. it's fucking annoying me."

she let out a teasing chuckle. was she... laughing at him right now? "fuck off. i'll listen to my music however i want."

...the fuck? his mouth opened in disbelief. this was a first. nobody, and i mean nobody, would even think of talking back to him like that.

"who do you think you're talking to?" he turned his body to her with a scowl intimidating enough to make anyone at his school go running with their tail between their legs.

"someone with no taste in music, apparently."

damn, she really was laughing at him.

kyung jun's mouth opened to fight back but no words came out. he couldn't believe it. he was stunned. did the rain wash out every threatening aspect of him?

it could be the cold, the shock, the contagious smirk of the pretty girl, or maybe the exhaustion finally catching on to him, but for whatever reason, he couldn't find it in him to say anything back. so he laughed. just slightly. some probably would consider it more of a defeated sigh. but he did.

"what?"

her smile was taunting him, provoking him to keep talking.

"nothing", yet he didn't have the energy for it, not right now. so today, he'd let it slide.

her smile shifted from cheeky to genuine when he brushed her off. as much as she enjoyed the banter, she had enough awareness not to tease any further.

"you know what," instead, she disconnected her headphones before handing her phone to the guy. "if my music is so annoying to you, show me something better."

kyung jun frowned, but a small smile graced his face, betraying his attempt at indifference.

and so he accepted her offer, for the second time that day.

minutes went by with surface-level conversation and recommended songs. it was a pleasant distraction for him, at least enough to make him miss the way his pulse merged with the beats of the tunes. they enjoyed their time together until the faint sound of wheels appeared in the distance. turning off the music, the pretty girl stood up in front of him.

oh right, the bus.

for a second, he forgot where they were.

"well, that's my ride" she announced, just seconds before said ride stopped before them.

for a second, time seemed to freeze.

the girl said something else, but whatever it was fell on deaf ears. it felt like his senses were failing him all of a sudden.kyung jun sat there, helpless and paralyzed, as he watched her walk away. a chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to break out all over his body. his mind was screaming at him to do something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. he wanted to ask for her name, to strike up more conversation, to find out who she was and where she was going. but he couldn't bring himself to move. all he could do was see her disappear, without time to wonder what might have been.

when he came to his senses the bus was out of sight, and the empty spot on the bench felt heavier than ever.

kyung jun looked at the sky. there was not a single ray of sun to be seen, but at least the rain had finally stopped. he leaned back and just as his hands came to rest in his pockets he touched something cold. he took it out, eyes falling on a lighter. her lighter.

he could feel the beat of his heart against his ribcage. why? where did all this adrenaline come from? since when has he become so soft as to let such a flimsy little thing make his head spin and his face fire up?

"fuck", he cursed to the skies.

as the days went by, his intense but short-lived experience with that stranger remained fresh in the back of his mind. no matter how many times he tried to blur her face she was like a ghost that reappeared every time he looked away, a fading memory he couldn't fully forget. 

at the back of the school's building kyung jun took the last puff of his cigarette just when the bell announced the start of classes. he dropped what was left of it on the floor at the same time his two companions dropped the innocent student they had been tormenting. they walked together to their classroom with the same enthusiasm as a kid who received a pair of socks for christmas and sat in the back row. 

"good morning, class", the teacher greeted as she stood in front of the students, who immediately saluted back.

kyung jun rolled his eyes and laid down on his desk with no thought other than finding the perfect position for the three-hour nap he was about to take until his next break, wondering if his dreams would finally be undisturbed by images of the one he couldn't fail to recall again and again. 

"alright," the teacher clasped her hands to get the class' attention. "before starting our lesson, i'm pleased to inform you that we have a new student coming in today and i hope you'll help them accommodate to the school."

already starting to doze off, kyung jun's eyes remained closed even after someone knocked on the door and the tutor welcomed them in. "welcome, please come in and introduce yourself."

"hello everyone, my name is yoon yn. i hope we get along well."

what the...?

his eyes shot open. 

there's no way. no fucking way.

he saw the new student politely bowing at the front of the room like she wasn't the same that had been living in his mind rent free day, night, and day again. 

"thank you. please, take a sit."

she walked like in slow motion towards the back of the room and, for a split second, their eyes met. the idea that he must've already fallen into a deep slumber invaded him when she sent him a subtle smile before sitting just a few sits away from him.

the teacher regathered the attention of the room and started her lesson. needless to say, his plan of breezing through the school day with a nap got ruined.

hours passed insanely slow until the bell rang through the speakers and announced a much-needed break. 

having pulled up two chairs by his side, jin-ha was cracking up at something on seung-bin's phone. whatever it was, kyung jun couldn't care less. his eyes were set on the crowd surrounding the new girl as his classmates smothered her with questions and compliments.

"are you new in town, yn?"

"what school did you use to go to?"

"were you in any clubs?"

"well–", yn tries to answer in between the frenzy.

"O-M-G, you should join our cheerleading group!" interrupted mi-na.

"im not interested in any clubs, thank you" yn declined with a smile.

"oh, of course." said so-mi, "someone like you was probably on the student council, right? you can always help me and jun-hee with-"

"i'll pass. thank you, so-mi."

"woaah, the class president got rejected!" heo yool pointed out and the small crowd joined in the teasing.

in the chaos of it all, she managed to find him staring. the moment was brief, yet enough for kyung jun's heart to skip a beat. 

"you know her?" 

"huh?"

"do you know her?", jin ha repeated. "the new girl."

kyung jun hesitated but shook his head, "no, i don't."

"could it be?", seung bin dramatised. "does ko kyung jun have a crush?" 

his friends patted his back, mocking him, and giggled in unison. 

"shut up," kyung jun sighed and leaned back on his chair closing his eyes with his arms crossed, trusting they'd get the hint that his temper was better off not tested.

"he didn't say no," seung bin whispered, gaining a repressed chuckle from jin ha.

boring lessons and occasional glances between the delinquent and the new student continued throughout the day until finally the moment to get out that hellhole arrived. 

by the time kyung jun had his bag over one shoulder and ready to go the class was almost empty. yoon yn was putting away her stuff without any rush as if she wasn't the only one left in the classroom.

"hey, kyung jun!" seung bin shouted from the door. "you coming or not?"

"nah," he answered without turning his eyes away from the girl. "i'll see you tomorrow."

with a shrug, seung bin left the room with jin ha following after him, not before exchanging a knowing look.

"move, nerd!" was the last thing heard from the two vandals out on the hall before they left. 

kyung jun approached yn with the same caution you do a stray cat in fear it'll run away and with each step, his pulse accelerated. as the girl cleaned up her belongings, he leaned on the desk next to hers wth his hands inside his trousers' pockets.

"the uniform doesn't suit you, you know?"

she turned to him–smirking–their eyes met and, for the first time today, neither looked away.

"i could say the same for you", yn crossed her arms.

"i'd say it's better than wet clothes.", he shrugged.

"please," the girl rolled her eyes, "it was just a little rain."

"a little rain?", kyung jun repeated. "you were literally running with your bag on your head."

"you were watching me?", yn put a hand over her chest and furrowed her brows, yet her smug smile remained. "you weirdo."

"look who's talking, you fucking stalker."

"excuse me? why the fuck would i stalk you?", she pointed at him.

"you tell me," he teased, lifting his hands. "you're the one in my school."

kyung jun kept staring at yn waiting for another one of her snarky comments but instead she tightly closed her lips together.

"what?" he provoked.

unable to hold back any longer, she let out a peal of laughter which made kyung jun's eyes widen as much as his own smile. he couldn't help it, her laugh was contagious and the situation was amusing. randomly meeting someone and obsessing over them to later find out they just enrolled in the same school as you is something you would only see in movies; or fanfiction.

yet here they were.

"nothing", yn smiled, finally gathering her stuff and putting her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave.

leave?

flashes of the day he thought he'd never see her again flooded kyung jun's mind. he couldn't bear it. to someone else, this might seem extreme; desperate. now that they were classmates he'd most likely see her every day, so why even panic in the first place? but maybe, just maybe, he was desperate. to him, seeing her leave felt devastating. like a reminder of the day his whole body failed to even ask her name. but if the universe saw it necessary for them to meet again, that meant he wasn't supposed to let her go, right?

kyung jun clumsily opened his backpack and took out the trinket he'd been carrying around since that rainy day, handing it to her.

yn stared at him with her eyebrows wrinkled.

"here", the guy insisted, slightly shoving the lighter toward her.

"why?"

"'fuck you mean why? it's yours."

"i told you to keep it. you didn't hear me?"

"oh," he felt what seemed like a heatwave run through his neck and ears. "i guess not."

"all that shit you gave me about my loud music and look at you." she mocked.

the guy lowered his head. he would have run away right then and there to avoid any more embarrassment if it wasn't for the little pride he still had.

"hey, uh..." she paused. "sorry, what's your name?"

all this time and he still hadn't introduced himself? fuck, he really couldn't do anything right, huh? 

"ko kyung jun."

"right. so, kyung jun, since it's such a nice day out i was wondering if you'd be free to show me around?" 

like on queue, sunshine started squeezing through the window’s blinds.

he wasn't sure if it really was the world roaring at him to see the signs or if she just happened to take pity on him, but whatever it was he felt relieved, and his anxiety washed away the moment he lifted his head to look at the girl with her arm extended.

this was it, wasn't it? the opportunity he keept missing? 

how many times will she have to reach out until you take the chance, dumbass?, screamed the universe.

"sure", kyung jun uttered. "i can do that."

she offered her hand, and for the final time, he accepted.

🏷️ @flaneurpastel - @jwijii - @watamotee33

© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI • older!daddy!dom!Steve Harrington x bratty!fem!reader • Includes daddy kink, teasing, jealousy/possessiveness, implied age gap (reader 20’s or 30’s, Steve 40’s or 50’s) rough sex, talking back, spanking, oral, and fluff ♥️

All semblance of calm left Steve’s eyes the moment he saw what you were wearing. Normally, he enjoyed the little ‘show,’ you put on for him before leaving for a night out with your girlfriends. But not this time.

You pranced down the stairs in quite possibly the shortest mini skirt Steve had ever seen. In fact, he wasn’t sure the strip of material could even be called a skirt at all. The way it hugged your body, accentuating the curve of your hips and tummy, made Steve’s cock twitch despite his surprise. You were gorgeous. And not to mention, the blouse you were wearing: soft, thin fabric that barely concealed your bra-less breasts beneath it, nipples poking prominently through the sheer material.

Steve could feel the jealousy boiling in his stomach; he didn’t want any other man or woman in Hawkins to see what belonged to him, what only HE was privileged enough to see. He could be a bit domineering at times, and perhaps that was an understatement. But you loved pressing Steve’s buttons, testing his jealousy. Sometimes, you’d openly flirt with other men in front of Steve, because you knew the ‘punishment,’ for your behavior would be fucking WORTH IT.

Steve’s jaw was tight as he watched you descend the stairs. You caught the look immediately, and a little thrill shivered inside you. This is exactly the response you’d hoped to inspire. So you decided to go all-in with your teasing little game.

“Do you like my outfit, Daddy?” you asked, blinking up at him innocently. Steve pressed his lips together a moment before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully. “You dressed yet?” he asked, and you giggled.

“Of course I’m dressed, silly!” you replied, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, old man.”

It was said with levity, in a playful tone, but Steve was not amused. You often teased him about his age when you wanted him to fuck you stupid, like now, and show you exactly what a man his age could DO…

Steve grit his teeth behind his lips. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Well, if you were dressed, would it be this easy for me to grab a handful of your ass?”

You winced as Steve’s palm slid in an instant beneath your skirt and squeezed one side of your ass, hard. The thrill inside you grew, going straight to your core.

“Well you do have big hands, Daddy,” you mused, sinking yourself against Steve’s warm palm.

“Mmm-hmm,” Steve agreed. “And you know what Daddy can do with his hands, don’t you Princess?”

He abruptly pulled his hand away and spanked the cheek of your ass he’d been gripping. A little gasp of surprise and excitement left your lips, and you smiled in spite of the act you were pulling. Steve was NOT smiling, however. He was pissed.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you go out tonight half naked,” he said, his voice low. You shook your head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t understand,” you responded. “I’m wearing a skirt and a blouse. That hardly makes me naked-.”

Another swat on your ass silenced you.

“Don’t talk back to me, (y/n),” Steve warned. The darkness in his tone sent your heart fluttering, warmth pooling between your legs. Both of Steve’s hands were on your ass now, massaging you, kneading roughly.

“You think I’d let you show everyone in this town what’s mine, and only mine?” he asked, pulling you a little closer. “Think I’d let you trot this pussy all over Hawkins like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t belong to me…?”

You shivered as Steve’s hand slid between your thighs, cupping your pussy in his large, warm palm. Steve’s lip curved in a grin at your response, at feeling how soaking wet you were.

“Aww,” he cooed, massaging your slick between the folds of your pussy, purposefully neglecting your clit. “Looks like somebody’s misbehaving on purpose…”

Your eyes lolled back as Steve pressed two fingers inside you easily, considering how wet you were already. You moaned at the thickness of his touch inside you, the way he instantly found your g-spot and curved his fingers around it. “Oh baby,” Steve purred against your ear as you sank your forehead into his chest. “That’s right, thats my girl…”

You buried your nose against the coarse hair of Steve’s chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, letting his warmth consume you. “Such a good girl…such a good girl for Daddy…” Steve‘s voice was like syrup, sweet and soothing as he gently stroked inside your pussy. “Gave in so easily…” You frowned, momentarily caught off guard. “Didn’t give her Daddy any trouble at all,” Steve murmured sweetly. “Just a couple of fingers up her cunt, and she forgets how to be a brat…”

You lifted your head from Steve’s chest, meeting his eyes. He was smirking at you, fingers buried to his knuckles in your cunt. He clearly thought he’d won, that he’d broken you. But it wasn’t a gentle fuck you were after; you wanted to be punished. A soft fingering wasn’t going to be enough; and you realized that unless you showed Steve that you were still VERY much a brat, he wasn’t going to be convinced…

So with all the strength you could muster, considering how fucking amazing Steve’s fingers felt up your cunt, you looked up at him and said with a straight face, “I have somewhere to be, Daddy.” You pushed Steve’s arm out from between your legs, lifting off his fingers with a wet squelch. “You’ll just have to play with my pussy later…”

Steve’s lips curved into a circle of surprise; he had NOT been anticipating this from you. But his demeanor shifted quickly to something much darker, his eyes staring you down intensely. “Later?” he muttered, his voice like ice. “You’re gonna make me wait, Princess?”

Your heart raced once again as you nodded, happy to see this darker Steve returning.

“The hell I will,” Steve growled. His hand found your hair, fingers clutching it just tightly enough not to hurt. You tried not to smile, but it was difficult to hide it. THIS was the Steve you’d been trying to provoke.

He led you by your hair to the nearby sofa, pushing you down so your ass was facing him. Another hard swat of his palm against it had you wincing, grinning freely into the couch cushions where Steve couldn’t see. “Fucking brat,” Steve murmured over your back, moving to straddle you. “Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you Princess?”

Steve pulled the skirt up over your ass and spanked you again, leaving a mark this time which he quickly soothed with his palm. You didn’t mind Steve roughing you up, but he was worried sometimes about going too far and accidentally hurting you. “You good, Princess?” he asked, and you quickly replied “yes, Daddy. But I wish you’d spank me next.”

Steve almost laughed out loud at your audacity, but restrained himself. He didn’t restrain his hand, however, and this time, his smack against your ass brought a tear to your eye. “Fuck yes,” you groaned into the couch cushion, your voice muffled but Steve could still hear it. He was on his knees behind you now, straddling your legs. His fingers slid under the waist of your thong panties and yanked them off of you, unintentionally ripping the elastic in his haste. “Oops,” he muttered under his breath, throwing the strip of fabric aside.

Steve took in the view of your bare ass, your cheeks crimson from his punishment. He pressed a hand to your back, sliding his palm down your spine, his touch lingering at the dip just above your ass. He leaned forward, taking a bit of your skin between his teeth. You flinched, your body tensing at the slight pain. Steve massaged your skin between his teeth, working his way across your ass, his hands on either side, groping.

When he was finished, Steve spread you open, and sank his face between your cheeks. You exhaled as his tongue slid down between your pussy lips and slowly up over your asshole. Steve continued to massage you, kneading your ass like dough in his strong hands. You arched your back, pressing your ass into his face. Steve obliged you, tilting his chin so you were now sitting on his face, the tip of his nose slipping between the lips of your pussy, his tongue lapping at your clit from behind.

Steve ate you like this till you were screaming his name, cum spraying his chin and trickling into his mouth like a small stream. He rutted his face between your lips letting you ride his nose as you came, breathing through his mouth in between swallowing your cum, grateful for every single drop. You were left shaking and crying into the couch, your mind and body completely fucked stupid. Steve had finally broken you, his little brat, and he smiled over your back at his victory, licking his slick lips and taking a moment to savor his win.

He flipped you over by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto the couch, your back against it. The look on your face was priceless: eyes glassy, half-lidded and dumb, your mouth hanging open lazily as you readily accepted whatever else your Daddy wanted to do to you. He knelt against the couch with one knee, eyes fixed on yours as he undid his pants. You were lost in a haze of bliss, taking in the sight of Steve’s drenched face and shirt, the smell of your pussy filling the air between you. He spit on his cock and pumped it a few times in his fist, lining himself up with your entrance.

In one hard thrust, Steve entered you fully, his balls slapping wet against your sopping cunt. He growled low in his chest, your wet heat enveloping and sucking him as he pulled his hips backward. Thrusting into you again, you felt the breath knocked out of your lungs. THIS is the fucking you’d needed Steve to give you, making you come harder than you ever had before and then stuffing you with his cock to do it all again…

He punched your insides like he was actually angry, hands locked around your hips, not letting you escape, even as you bucked and whimpered against his chest. Steve panted into your hair, dusting it off your shoulders as he fucked your ass into the couch. Your body was weak, depleted from the sheer power of the climax you’d just had on Steve’s face. He knew you could do it again, however, could already feel another orgasm building within you as your walls trembled around him.

“Come on, Princess,” he soothed, his forehead pressed to yours as he thrusted deep inside you. “You can do it…come for Daddy, baby…” Steve’s voice was so gentle it made you weak, the scent of your cunt on his breath as he spoke sending you over the edge. Your legs shook around Steve’s waist, your heels kicking into his ass as he pummeled your cunt. The room around you went white as your eyes squeezed shut, the force of your orgasm rocking you even harder than the one before it. Steve’s cock was prodding your deepest space, nearly splitting you in half. It would have been painful, SHOULD have been painful, but your body was too lost in the intensity of your climax to know it.

He moaned your name against your ear, a beautiful desperation and love in his tone. “Come for me, Daddy,” you begged, a hot tear streaming down your cheek. “Come inside this pussy…it belongs to you…”

At that, Steve lost the last bit of restraint he had, growling into your shoulder as he emptied himself against your cervix. You felt his cum filling you, breeding you, marking you once again as his, and only his.

Steve’s chest was wet with sweat and your cum soaked into his shirt. He gently lifted off of you, panting down at you, and smiled. You lifted your face to meet Steve’s, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his, still wet with your slick. “I love you, Daddy,” you breathed, a soft smile spreading your lips.

Steve kissed you, deeply, his cum-soaked tongue folding gently with yours. He pulled back and sleepily blinked down at you, grinning. “Love you too, Princess.”

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

on the phone with 👑

(cw: mentions of ego-shooter video games; age gap 25/41, nsfw, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, MDNI)

part before: painting his nails

I'm tossing and turning.

In my own bed.

Cursing the notion I had, that I couldn't possibly stay for longer at his place.

On Monday morning, I packed up my stuff and hurried to work, after he made me another latte.

Being a good girl, not getting him to fuck me again, even though I would have rather taken him to bed than myself to work.

Texting König about every single minute thing that came to my mind. And him doing the same.

I sent him a pic while I was out getting lunch with a colleague. And he sent me a pic while he was working out. I almost died right there and then.

Firstly, I never would have thought he would do a mirror selfie.

Secondly...

His hair put up in a haphazard way. Damp strands of it hanging down.

The tank top was a tight fit especially for him, showing off his arms. Sweat staining the front of it, the sheen of wetness on his skin...

The shorts. The sight of his burly thighs had me gripping my desk, trying to get a grip.

Thirdly, that goddamned smile. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

When I had calmed down, my fingers typed out a message in response.

Me: excuse me??? sir??? 🫠 👑: you are excused

He's gonna pay for that one.

When I came home from work, I thought it was eerily quiet in my apartment. Nobody else being here. I mean, I live alone and Mimi greeted me as always. But it seemed like was something off. Missing.

I thought back to when we got my stuff and König just waited patiently for me while I packed some clothes and other necessities. Petting Mimi, his whole attention on the little cat. His tall stature dwarfed my living room, and I was actually surprised he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling. The Morbid Angel logo on his shirt was hidden by the black furball purring against him. Mimi sitting on his chest, not a care in the world, meowing when she saw me.

But there was no 6'10'' giant waiting for me in the living room then.

I willed myself - even though my fingers itched - to not send him message about asking for him to pick me up or stay over at my place. I wanted to give him some space after I had his place under siege for what feel like an eternity, but realistically was just three days. And I managed fine yesterday, his goodbye kisses still lingering. Today, even with all of the messages we sent back and forth...

Can you miss somebody like that after knowing them for such a short time?

I knew that he most likely spent the whole evening at home. Alone. Because he likes being alone. Probably reading or listening to the new Trivium vinyl he bought that came in the mail yesterday. Or both.

I stayed home as well, playing games on my computer – I actually started up Counterstrike and tried to play some matches –, but my mind always wandered back to him. Mimi came running, pushing her head against my legs, demanding attention. I lifted her off the floor to set her onto my lap and didn't see the enemy which got me eliminated. The irony was not lost on me, as I thought back to our conversation. How worried he seemed with how I would perceive him when he talked about his work. And now I was sitting here, playing a shooter game to try and relax after work.

I shook my head, at the absurdity of it, and snapped a quick pic in between matches to send to him.

My phone ding-ed while I was in a match, and I tried to ignore it.

As soon as I got the chance though, I opened the message and he sent a picture back. From the waist down, a book on his lap, a beer on the table beside him. The wall of books in the background. The whole room dimly lit except for the opened pages.

God damn it, I just want to sit right next to him on that couch.

me: looking comfy, old man 👑: thank you, i am indeed very comfy 👑: brat

I chuckled to myself and played a few more rounds before I went to bed.

And now I'm here, tossing and turning in my bed, without the big guy right beside me.

I pull the chat up again. Looking at the pictures he sent me today.

me: u still awake? 👑: yes, everything okay? me: can't sleep 👑: me neither

While I'm still contemplating my next message, the crown lights up my phone as a caller ID. Surprise spreads through me for just a moment before I pick up.

Hi?

Hi. Uh, I hope it's okay that I just called.

Sure, I can't sleep anyways.

I ignore the little flutter in my stomach.

What is it? Something on your mind?

‘Yeah, you.’ is what I want to say.

No, just restless.

He sighs.

I feel that.

A little silence falls over us, just for a moment.

What was that game you played before?

Oh, uh- Counterstrike. I'm no good at it though.

He laughs.

Why do you play it then?

It's still fun, I guess. Even if I curse at the monitor like a goddamn sailor.

Oh, I couldn't imagine your sweet mouth doing something as filthy as that.

Yeah, yeah. We both know what kind of filthy things you're imagining with my mouth.

Maybe.

I can hear the grin on his face which makes me grin in return.

Have you ever played?

I never played, no. Don't want to spend my free time with...

He pauses.

Work.

Oh right, I understand, sorry. This must be weird then.

No, don't worry. I know that people play those games for fun.

Yeah, I know, still.

You gotta show me some time.

Really?

Yeah, why not.

Okay, then, I'll show you my shitty gameplay with pleasure.

Which makes us both laugh.

I gotta confess something.

What do you have to confess?

I already had my car keys in my hand.

You did?

Mhm. But then I remembered what you said yesterday morning, about needing to go home and you couldn't possibly stay any longer… and I understand if you need some space. So, I wasn't sure if you'd even open the door for me, if I knocked.

A moment of silence.

Can I confess something as well?

Sure.

I have been thinking all evening how fucking stupid that was of me. And I would've opened the door for you in an instant.

Another silence, this one a little heavier.

But a little smile stalks on my face, an idea of what to say next.

What would you do if you were here?

He chuckles.

Kiss that filthy mouth of yours. And then the top of your head because that's closest to your dirty mind.

What dirty mind?

Yeah, yeah, I see right through you, Fräulein.

I don't know what you're talking about.

No? So, you aren't thinking about me fucking you from behind right now? Or maybe about you spreading your legs and me eating you out, your delicious pussy right in my face? Or about my dick pushing into your mouth until you gag around it, hm?

I clear my throat.

Well, now I am for sure.

Good. Because I'm thinking about it as well.

König?

Yes, Liebes?

I- There's something that always helps me sleep better.

His voice deepens.

And what's that?

Oh, you already know.

I need to hear you say it. What do you want?

I hesitate, feeling a little shy now.

I want to come.

He groans.

Fuck, can't deny you if you ask so prettily.

The tone of his voice sends a little shiver down my spine, but I'm unsure what to say now, the words on the tip of my tongue.

What- what should I do?

I can tell you what I would do if I was there, and you can tell me how it feels, okay?

Okay.

Put the phone next to you and put me on speaker. You're gonna need both of those hands.

I do exactly as he tells me, lying back into my sheets.

You're on speaker.

Good. What are you wearing, sweetcheeks?

I giggle a little.

A shirt and panties.

Hmm, my favorite. I would get rid of your underwear in an instant though.

I laugh and follow his suggestion. I already noticed his disdain for underwear, on himself as well.

Then I would slowly push my hand up your shirt, feeling your soft skin.

Until I reach your breasts, squeezing them.

I do as he says, but it doesn't quite feel the same with my hands, compared to his bigger ones.

I would graze my thumb over your nipples, feeling them harden from my touch.

I'd like to lick them, bite them just lightly, until you squirm under me.

I pinch them, his words mixing with the sensations of my touch, until I softly sigh.

Feeling good?

Mhm.

The sound is more a moan than anything else.

My hand would slowly wander down, until I'm there, just were you want me.

I whimper when my fingers reach my clit, swollen and sensitive.

That bad, huh?

Well, somebody sent a picture of them all sweaty and hot after working out. And I still can't think straight, just thinking about that.

He laughs.

You say such nice things, Liebes.

What would you do next?

I know that I sound desperate. But I need more.

I’d move my hand just a little further down. Not pushing into you just yet. Just teasing. Softly stroking over your wet pussy.

I whine, needy, but I don't dare to stray from his order, getting myself worked up with the teasing touches.

Just feeling how fucking wet you are for me, before pushing my finger into you.

I push one of my fingers inside me, the one digit not nearly being enough.

Miss your fingers, they're bigger.

He hums. A soft erotic sound.

I suppose they are.

I’d add a second one, slowly moving inside you, just how you like it. Hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan and roll your eyes back. Just how I like it.

His voice is getting deeper, his breaths a little more labored, as he keeps talking which sends a shiver down my spine. Knowing that guiding me through it like that, hearing me sigh in response, does it for him as well lets a little smile form on my face.

I do as he says, but I also get a little frustrated, because my fingers can't quite reach like his, my hips squirming, desperate for more friction.

Need more.

I whine.

Okay, then. Brat.

I would flip you on your front, so I could look at your ass.

I can't help the little eyeroll, while a grin stalks onto my face.

But you aren't here, and you can't actually see my butt.

Pssscht, I'm imagining it just fine. Come on, turn around, do as I tell you.

And I do, the rustling of my sheets telling him as far.

Good.

Just this word alone, from his lips, does things to me.

Now, lift up your hips just a little and push your fingers in from behind.

I follow his instructions, lifting my ass, so I can reach a little better, two of my fingers slipping into my pussy. I groan a little bit.

How's that? A little deeper?

Yes.

I sigh.

Good. Now, put your other fingers on your clit.

I push my arm under my body, placing the hand, right between my legs. My fingertips are digging into the sensitive nub and I rub against them needily. I know now why he wanted me to reposition myself.

Oh fuck.

The sounds I’m making are telling him what he wants to know.

Just like that.

Move your hips, fuck yourself on your fingers.

And I do as he tells me, the touches getting me worked up fast, the pressure on my clit changing with every pass, while my fingers are pushing into my pussy.

Hmm, feeling good?

Yeah, just wish it was you inside me.

That little confession dropped out of me before I could think too hard about it.

Fuck, me too. I would bury my dick deep inside you. Fuck you from behind. Hard, just how you like it.

Remember how I fucked you into that bar counter?

How could I forget?

We need to do that again sometime... You took me so fucking perfectly.

I bite my lip, stifling the moans that get louder and louder, the images of us fucking spurring me on, while I finger-fuck myself.

I wanna hear you. Please.

My head turns in the direction of the phone again, making sure he gets to hear all the sounds that are dropping from my lips.

Good girl.

His praise washes over me and I almost choke up when the pull inside gets too much.

Close, so clo-

Fuck, yes. Come. That's what you wanted, isn't it?

The growl in his voice tips me over the edge, moving my hips frantically in search for more friction, when my orgasm crashes down over me.

My moans fill my bedroom, and surely find their way into the phone.

I can hear him groan as well, the sounds from the speaker sounding a lot like a slick hand moving up and down quickly.

Fuck, he’s jerking off too. That thought registers in my brain, before my fingers hit that spot inside me again. The zap of pleasure makes me shake, the waves of arousal washing over me, while my fingers strum over my clit.

Fuuuck…

A low breathy curse that escapes his lips as he comes as well.

Panting, mine and his from the speaker, is all I hear for the next moments.

I untangle myself, my fingers slipping out of me, turning onto my back again. Feeling my own wetness on my hands. I clean myself haphazardly before I grab the phone again.

That was… something else.

Yeah… you drive me crazy, you know that?

I’m still just breathing, trying to calm myself down. My god, I don’t think I ever came that hard with just my fingers inside me. The images he put in my mind… his deep soft voice alone. It does stuff to me. Hearing him say that... how I drive him crazy as well, it makes me all giddy inside.

I feel the familiar fuzzy feeling sweep over me, and I wish I could snuggle into him right now, after he made me come, and my hazy mind is still looking for the right thing to say now.

Feeling better now?

Yes, much better.

Sleepy, too?

Yes, that too. I always get a little sleepy afterwards.

I've noticed.

Like on cue, I yawn.

Thank you.

He chuckles again. And I don't think I'll ever get enough of that sound.

No need to thank me. I'll make you come any day of the week.

I- meant for calling, but that works too.

The grin on my face probably mirrors his, staring off into the distance with our phones pressed to the ear. And he's still not here next to me.

Gotta get myself under the shower, because I made a mess of myself again and I got nobody here to clean me up.

That makes me laugh, the joke and the filthy thought cutting through the sleepiness, when I'm yawning again.

You do that, can't have you all messy like that.

No, we can't.

I can hear the little filthy grin in his voice, and I can imagine how he must look like right now. Sitting on the couch or his bed. His dick still out, all messy and sticky with his cum. His hair hanging over the side of his face, as he relaxes into the cushions. And that god damn smirk of his.

Silence, just two little moments, before I ask what I wanted to ask.

Can you come over tomorrow?

Sure, Kleine, whatever you want.

Okay, good. Good night, König.

Good night, sleep well.

That's the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep, still gripping my phone tight with my fingers.

next part: gaming with him or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

[cowgurrrl]

Strangers

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (cowgirl!reader???)

Author’s note: goddammit is this gonna be a thing

Summary: Javi struggles to assimilate back into civilian life in Texas until an old friend returns [1.5k]

Warnings: Texas Javi my beloved, language, addictive tendencies, PTSD symptoms, Javi + Steve 4eva, reader has a brother, southernisms, pining, yeah there’s probably gonna be a part two 🙄

Javi really did try his best to leave Colombia and the ghosts that pricked at his memory every time he turned a familiar corner. He wanted to do better. He felt he had to. Too many people died for him to just throw away his chance at life, but the days were long and hot, and he was so fucking tired. The nicotine patches stopped working, and the bottle suddenly wasn't enough to convince himself he was doing what he was sent to do. That he was doing the right thing. That he was a good person. 

He expected the feeling to leave him once he left the imaginary borders of Colombia and returned to the northern valley. He thought working with his dad and getting his feet back under him after years of being pushed and pulled at Reagan's whim would feel better than shaking down teenagers for narco information. Of course, it didn't disappear in the cacti and hazy horizons of Loredo or the arms of his father. It's only been a couple of hours, Peña, he thought. Give it some time. Who knows? Blistering Texas sunsets might be good for burning the blood off his hands. 

Except everybody in his small town knew of his exploits in Latin America. They knew his name was plastered to boxes full of evidence against the cartel and then some. They knew Chucho's boy was some kind of fucked up veteran or hero or whatever they wanted to call him. He avoided going into town more than necessary when he first got home because of how often he got stopped. It didn't matter if he was going to the hardware store, HEB, or the mechanic. Somebody ended up talking to him about Escobar or Cali. He couldn't escape his past even thousands of miles away from it. The only good thing about his newfound fame was the free drinks people pushed his way in the shit hole bar just on the outskirts of town. 

He tells himself to slow down, what with the early mornings and long days he's working, but it'd be a dick move to turn down free drinks, right? Sometimes, Javi loses hours in the bar, betting money on pool, flirting with women passing through town, and telling war stories of the jungle and sicarios and whatever else comes spilling out of his loose lips. He tells himself he's coping the best way he knows how when he comes down for breakfast looking and feeling like shit, his hair practically wet from lingering cigarette smoke, but he knows better. 

His dad deals with Javi's vices the same way they dealt with his mother's death: inefficiently and without making a sound. The most Chucho does is shake his head and sigh when Javi comes stumbling in at some ungodly hour. What more could he do? Javi barely told his dad where he was in the world. How was he supposed to tell him what he'd done? What he saw? What he allowed? No, his dad can never know. It'll kill him. It'll kill Javi to retell. 

Sometimes, Javi will call Steve and ask about Connie and the kids, and they'll act like they're old school buddies and not tethered together through tragedy and white powder. Steve will ask him about his sleep, and Javi will give some bullshit answer which makes Steve laugh. "Yeah, me too," he says one time. "Woke the baby up the other night 'cause I was talkin' again. Don't even know what about. Isn't that fun?" Javi doesn't give much away. He never does, but sometimes, it's just nice to know he's not alone in his struggle to get back to normal. 

Javi is back in town for a full forty days before he finally stumbles across you. At first, he doesn't remember you or your first name. Your last name, however, rattles around his skull until he finally gets the courage to ask if he knows you as he stands in line at the store. "You look familiar." He says, making you laugh. 

"I'd hope so. You were practically livin' in my house in high school." You say, throwing him back to his high school baseball days, spending time either in the field or on the ranch with your older brother. You were a little bit younger than him— the daughter of a weathered cattle rancher— and only caught his attention when you were in the way or being an obnoxious teenager. Man, did you grow up pretty, he thinks. Suddenly, he's hyperaware of his sweaty hair, rumpled shirt, and god-awful farmer's tan. 

"Last I heard, you'd moved out of town," Javi says, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you carefully. The freckles dotting your face from all your time in the sun should be considered lethal, especially when you smile. 

"Last I heard, you were engaged." Just as you did then, you don't hold your punches. The jab doesn't hurt, but it does make him laugh, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck.

"Alright, you got me there," he says. "How's your brother?"

"Good. Married Suzanna a few years ago, and now they've got some babies running around." 

"They live around here?"

"Dallas," you say. "Dillon thinks he's too good for us and decided to be a real estate agent out there instead."

"Sounds riveting," Javi says and you laugh. The line gets shorter and shorter as you talk, but he can't focus on anything but you. "And you? What's a pretty girl like you still doing in this shit hole?" Something behind your eyes flickers at the comment and you take a deep breath, suddenly all too aware of how hot it is today.

"Somebody's gotta get Daddy off the horse every once in a while."

"And what? Your mama can't do that for you?"

"She knows better than to keep tryin'. I'm just as stubborn as he is, so one of us'll win or give up before the other." 

"Well, my money's on you." He says easily. You stare at each other for a little bit longer than necessary before the clerk calls you by name to get your attention. Your items are scanned, bagged, and paid for all in the span of a few seconds. You have no reason to linger in the checkout aisle, but you do, rocking on your boots' heels just a little. 

"Don't be a stranger, Peña." You say, looking him over as if you're seeing him for the first time. 

"I don't think this town's big enough for that." He says, and you chuckle.

"No, I don't think so either," you say. "Tell your dad I said hi." With all your Southern hospitality, you turn and leave. Javi watches you go until the clerk calls his name and breaks him out of it. Well, that and the sound of something crashing to the floor makes him reach for a gun he doesn't carry anymore. His shoulders brace for an explosion, and he can't catch his breath. He stares at the box and the broken jars in it as a pissed-off employee storms off to find a broom. He scoffs. 

Javi has dealt with some of the most dangerous people in the world, and jams are what spike his adrenaline. 

He tries to shrug it off and pay the cashier, but his ears are still ringing, and his heart is still racing when he climbs back into his truck. Fucking jam. He tries to forget about it as he drives home. He wants to forget about it. He wants to think of anything else. 

If that happens to be your smile, the way your laugh fills the air, or the inconspicuous way you looked at him when he complimented you, it's just a coincidence. 

When he gets home, he's craving a drink or a cigarette or something more physical to get his mind off of what happened. His shoulders slump with the weight of memory and Chucho sees. He always sees. He just doesn't know the right way to fix it. 

"Y'know, uh… your friend you used to play baseball with?" He asks, seemingly out of nowhere, as Javi puts away the groceries. He furrows his brows and gives his dad a confused look.

"I had lots of friends I played baseball with."

"He was datin' that girl you went to Homecoming with when you were a freshman?" Of all the things his dad remembers, of course, it's that. Javi resists the urge to roll his eyes and grinds his teeth instead.

"Suzanna?" He asks and Chucho snaps his fingers in a way that tells him that was the right answer. "His name was Dillion. What about him?" 

"Well, his dad heard you're back in town and invited us over for a barbecue," he says nonchalantly and Javi scoffs. "I'm not sure how he didn't know, but you know that old fucker's always out doin' something. Somebody probably told him something or the other. Anyway, you can say no. I told him you were still adjustin'."

"I'll go," Javi agrees too fast. "Might be good to… get outta the house. Wouldn't wanna be a stranger." Chucho is surprised but not displeased with Javi's answer, and they leave it as is. 

It's just reintegrating into civilian life. It's just socializing. It's just a barbecue. It's not an interrogation or a raid. It's coping. 

Apparently, coping could be really fun if he plays his cards right.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @space-zaddy-din-djarin @rainy-darling @its-me-mila @mnn11ankamaaka

[andy-wm]

Why is Bam on insta?

This thought flashed in my head when i saw the most recent photos of Bam.

Maybe I'm just slow and everyone else figured this out already but maybe not, so I’m sharing it.

The Bam insta account isn't just a fun side project set up by JK while he’s doing military service. He doesn't even have an account for himself*, so why would he make one for his puppy? It's not like he needs (or wants?) more followers or influence, and he could have just used his t1ct0k, where hes already got gazillions of followers.

When bowwow_bam first appeared, many comments suggested he created it to keep in touch with ARMY while he's serving in the military. And yes he DID share the account with ARMY on weverse, but I doubt that's the reason it exists.

Bowwow_bam is not for ARMY...

The photos JK gets from the training centre let him know that Bam is happy and well cared for.

Even though Bam has been in and out of the training centre often while JK has had his schedules, those stays were brief compared to 18 months. This time, Bam will basically be living there full time, long term.

Maybe this is why JK sent Bam to the training centre so often in the past, when he might have left Bam with friends or family instead. That way, the training centre became familiar to Bam before his long term stay.

Bowwow_bam is for JK

Bam's photos are likely sent to JK directly, so why post them to a public platform? And why post ONLY these?

Why?

Sure, it's a good way for JK to stay connected to ARMY with minimal effort. Let's not be foolish enough to think he doesn't care about that. It's pretty clear he wants to pick up his career where he left off when he comes back. (It goes without saying that BTS - and JK - will still have millions of fans after MS.)

But i don't believe thats the only reason Bam has an insta account, and i dont think it's the most significant reason either.

There are so many ways JK could have maintained a socials presence. If he wanted to be on insta, even just reposting old content would keep him at the forefront of ARMY's mind... if he had an insta account* that is.

It also got me thinking about what JK will be doing with his time off.

He isn't all that close to his family, he tells us. And most of his friends are idols, from what we see (although that could be selective information), so probably insanely busy with their own schedules. And his Bangtan brothers, his found family, are also doing their service. And he and Jimin are apparently on different shifts (if the information we have is correct).

So who is he connecting wiith?

Who is his link to home and normality?

This doggo right here is.

Besides letting JK know that Bam is happy and well cared for, the photos connect JK to home and give him something tangible to look forward to on the other side of his service.

They'd remind him that this episode of his life has an end date, that he has a place to return to, and that somebody is waiting for him to come home. Bam is waiting for him.

But why post them on instagram?

We know JK has a strong connection with ARMY. He's said many times that we're his safe place (debatable, honestly) and his happy place (I truly hope so). He's told us it's ARMY he talks to late at night when he's alone. He's also set clear boundaries about what he's prepared to share and how close we're allowed to come - although he blurs these lines himself sometimes... naked livestreams from his bed come to mind, but i digress...

I believe the insta account - Bam and ARMY together - is his anchor. This is his link back to his life before and after MS.

Sharing these photos from the training centre with his three (or four or five) million closest friends would validate for JK what his life has been, and will be again. It tells him we (like Bam) are still here, still waiting, without him ever having to ask.

It keeps that part of his life real for him.

Just to be clear,

I'm not downplaying the significance of Jimin and JK serving together in the companions program.

In my mind nothing could be more significant.

Jimin is with him day after exhausting day, just as he has been for the last twelve years. While that must be an enormous comfort to them both, these long and arduous days must still seem endless.

Getting through this difficult time with any sort of optimism would require something to look forward to, and recieving photos of Bam would give JK much happiness, and remind him that there is life outside of the camp.

They'd serve to remind him that at the end of it all he will see his beloved doggo in person...

...and that he and Jimin will go home and his little family will be whole again

💜🐰🐶🐥💛

*pretty sure he does tho...

~as always, opinions are my own and all of this is conjecture~

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for cutting off a mutual for threatening suicide?

I know it sounds bad, but please bear with me.

I stumbled across somebody on Tumblr who shared the same obscure interests as me, and we became mutuals pretty quickly. We hardly interacted outside of liking each other's posts sometimes, which seems to be par for the course for Tumblr mutuals. I had a Discord server with my partners and me in it and we decided to invite them to it in an attempt to be closer friends.

Things were okay for a while, but I noticed a few red flags right off the bat. They'd had a bad experience with their last group of friends and vented about it a lot - that in and of itself is fine, but it got to a point where it was all they would talk about. The vent channel in the server was completely occupied by them, and neither me nor my partners felt comfortable venting there ourselves. Alongside this venting about their old friends, they would continuously insinuate we would be just like them, and would leave them just like their old friends did. Again, I don't have a problem with people asking for reassurance, but this was CONSTANT. When I say it was all they would talk about, I mean it. That kind of mistrust in their supposed friends was mentally draining and made me feel like they didn't value our friendship.

And now we get to the threatening suicide part. This person was very clearly mentally ill, needed help, and lived in an unsupportive home. I had all the sympathy in the world for them, and still hope they manage to get out of it. However, if we did not respond to the constant venting in our Discord server, they would go on Twitter and Tumblr and talk about how everyone was ignoring them, and they were going to kill themselves. Several times. This happened a few times before I approached them and asked them kindly not to vague post about me, as I have "trauma" (put in quotes because the vague posting was not the root cause of it) surrounding people pretending to be my friend and shit-talking me in vague posts. They apologized, and agreed to try and cut down on doing it.

But it didn't stop. A week would pass, and they would go right back to it. Their suicide threats were made near daily, and while I don't mind talking someone down from suicide, being expected to do it every single day was taking a massive toll on my mental health.

Eventually, my partners and I decided we weren't cut out to be friends with this person. A message was sent to the Discord server, explaining we made a collective decision that we were not a good match, and that we'd be deleting the server. Cue the final breakdown - as soon as they saw the message, they started to freak out, threatening to kill themselves, begging not to leave them, saying they'd be alone without us, etc. The server was deleted and they moved to my partner's DMs, still threatening suicide and generally being nasty.

After blocking them on socmed, things were quiet for a while. Occasionally, they will send me or my partners asks telling them they're going to kill themselves and how they just want to "make things right" between us. Obviously these threats are empty. The last one they sent me was on Roblox of all things because I'd blocked them everywhere else.

So, am I the asshole? Should I have continued to stay in this friendship and tried harder to make it work?

What are these acronyms?

[normal-internet-user]

Hello my dear!

May I request a 2012 Donnie x reader, but reader is Casey's twin sister? Like reader and Donnie are together and Casey's super protective

Have a lovely day/night

-🌻

Of course I can my darling 🌻! 💕

OVERPROTECTIVE

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~

Summary: After discovering that you're dating Donnie, Casey makes it his mission to 'scare' the purple masked terrapin.

Warnings: None!

Requested: 🌻

Female Reader!

.........................................

You winced as your younger sister yanked the comb through your hair once again. After finding out you were going on a date, the price for her silence was her getting to style your hair and pick your outfit.

"Are you done yet?" you whined, yelping when she roughly pulled on your hair.

"Nope!" She said. You could just hear her little gap toothed grin.

You sighed and slumped in your seat. You would like to be gone before Casey got home, mostly because you didn't want hin asking questions. He's always had a bit of a- uhm- protective streak.

And what with his already rival like relashonship with your boyfriend, you would really like to avoid any new conflict between the two. So it was best if he didn't know for now, and to your credit, you and Donnie were really good at keeping the whole 'We're dating.' thing a secret.

No one else knew with the exception of Master Splinter, but he was literally a ninja master, not much gets by him.

"Done!" Ella said proudly, handing you a mirror over your shoulder. You had to admit, it was better than you had expected, it actually looked kinda amazing.

"Thanks, now get out so I can change, I wanna leave before Casey gets home."

Ella nodded and skipped out of your room giggling about god knows what. After she left, you closed and locked the door, changing into the outfit she had left out for you.

You opened the door and Ella squealed in excitment, "You look so pretty, (Name)!"

You laughed, "Thanks, Ella. Alright, I'm out, if Dad or Casey ask where I went tell 'em I went to April's or somthing. Capeesh?"

"Capeesh!"

Ella gave you a big hug, then ran off to do something else, read probably. You knew she'd be fine on her own for a while since your dad would be home in about fifteen minutes and she was ten years old after all.

You made your way out of your apartment complex, walking down the ever darkening New York streets. You sent Donnie a quick text to let him know you were on your way to your arranged meeting place, and he replied with a thumbs up and a heart emoji.

You smiled, shaking your head at the simple reply.

You turned down a familar alley, using the worn fire escape to climb up to the rooftops, "Hey there handsome, you waitin' for somebody?" you say with a giggle once you reach the top, startling your boyfriend who was waiting for you.

Donnie spun to face you, relaxing when he saw it was you, "You scared me, (Name)!"

You laughed loudly, "You aren't very good at flirting, huh, Honey?"

Donnie chuckled, muttering, "You'd think you'd know that by now."

You walked over to him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, further darkening his blush, "It's ok, I'm a big enough flirt for both of us pretty boy." you smiled at him teasingly.

Donnie rolled his eyes half-heartedly, clearing his throat, "So, uhm- I was thinking we could-" He was cut off by your ringing phone.

You pulled the device from your pocket, groaning when you saw the caller ID. It was Casey.

"Crap." you muttered.

Donnie snorted at your reaction, and you sent him a half-hearted glare before answering the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey there, (Nickname), where are you currently, like, at this exact moment?"

You gulped, "Uh, with, April."

"Try again, (Name)!" April's voice sounded from the phone

Double crap.

"Uhm-"

Casey cut you off, "Would you happen to be standing on a rooftop across from Mr. Murakami's shop with Donnie's arm wrapped around your waist? Or am I seeing dopple gangers."

Triple crap.

You and Donnie began to frantically scan the area, before you could even find your twin and April, a loud shout sounded from the building across the street, "That's my sister you brainiac punk!"

"Case', what the hell are you doing over there?" You shouted.

"Looking for you!" he replied,

"How did you even know I wasn't at home?"

"Ella told me!"

You gasped, "That little snitch." you muttered.

"I'm comin' over there!" Casey shouted, and you frantically waved your hands, "No you stay right there, Casey Jones!" you shouted.

"Well lugnuts." Donnie sighed.

You debated taking Donnie and booking it before Casey could get up there, but before you could tell Donnie your plan, Casey emerged from the fire escape.

"Alright, what's goin' on here?" He demanded, storming over to the pair of you and removing Donnie's arm from your waist.

You groaned in annoyance, "This is exactly why I didn't tell you, Casey. I knew you'd act like this."

"If it helps-"

"You shut up." Casey said, cutting Donnie off, "(Name), I don't care who you date, I really don't, but as your twin brother it's my job to make sure you don't get hurt!"

"Casey-"

"Hold on, I'm not done." Casey turned to face Donnie, "So, you listen up nerd, and you listen good. If you hurt my little sister in anyway-"

"Little?!"

"You are younger than me."

"Yeah, by like, 2 minutes!"

"Still younger."

You huffed, crossing your arms, "Whatever."

"Ahem, as I was saying. If you hurt her in anyway shape or form, you better expect Casey Jones to show up outside that nerd den of yours." Casey finished his little speech by poking Donnie's plastron, he then began to walk backwards towards the fire escape, where April was waiting and snickering at the interaction.

The whole time he was backing up, Casey was making an, "I'm watching you." gesture. He then proceded to trip over the edge of the building, and fall backwards onto the fire escape. He jumped up, made one last warning gesture, then he and April left.

You and Donnie looked at each other dumbfounded, "That's... not how I expected that to go..." you said, taking Donnie's hand.

"Me neither," He replied, pulling you closer "I genuinly thought he'd try to fight me. I would have won, obviously, but I digress."

The two of you began to lean in for a kiss, and you hummed, "I'd give him an a for effort, he was trying to intimidate a ninja afterall."

Donnie chuckled in response, and the two of you grew closer, faces only inches apart.

"Hey! No kissing!"

"Dang it, Casey!"

.........................................

There you go 🌻 Anon! I really had fun writing this, like, alot of fun! Tysm for the beautiful request and I hope you all have an amazing rest of your day/night!💕💕

[marivoid]

Entry 31

Day 223

This is him. One of the only people that can help me find The Doctor. The Heavy-Body Builder.

One problem: The man is the definition of "Looks scary, is a wet cat of a man." He definitely TRIED to be intimidating, but he failed pretty miserably at it when I met him after being unconscious for 10 days.

(Yes I did a double take. I still can't believe I was out for THAT long)

Picture this: Me walking towards a towering city of collapsing buildings with dust filled air. Eyes focused on the small blinks of light that just barely escape the smog- I'm thinking that I've finally made it! Comparator City!

And then I get absolutely BODIED by a huge hunk of metal. I wish I were kidding. My poor spine! My arm! It got freaking CRUSHED! I was sent flying a decent few feet and ended up crashing into an old light pole (Again. OW.) All that I can remember happening next is that same hunk of metal approaching me and some guy jumping out of it. But then... Well. I was out like a light.

Managed to wake up (after what felt like) a few hours later and oh GOODNESS did it hurt. My back, my right side, my stump of an arm- It all hurt! But there was somebody in the very dim room with me. The same person that crawled out of that hunk of metal.

"Thank goodness you're awake!" He had said when I first gained consciousness. "I was worried that you wouldn't stabilize! You've been unconscious for over a week!"

"I've been WHAT?!" And of course, when I sat up I saw the damage the man had done to me. Machines were strapped all over my body, an IV drip sticking out of my arm (Where he found a clean needle I will not ask.) a whole heart rate monitor- He was stacked! But from the state of everything, he was telling me the truth. "You knocked me unconscious for a week?!"

"Well it's r-really been ten days-"

"TEN DAYS?!"

"Yes- Yes I know it sounds absolutely horrible but! But! You're recovering at an accelerated rate! You should be good to go in a few days? Maybe three? The experimental drug is working great for you!" He had been blabbering and talking so fast that I nearly missed that detail.

"Experimental- I'm sorry, EXPERIMENTAL DRUG?" Of course I had been outraged back then. (Even looking back now I'm still a bit ticked off at being used as a guinea pig for a drug that could have killed me, but hey! I'm alive now!) "You used an EXPERIMENTAL DRUG to heal me."

"Yes! And it worked!" He stepped away from me to grab my prosthetic arm. "And! And I managed to upgrade your arm! It got destroyed- Again I'm so sorry about that- but hey! At least now your map and compass aren't an extra item to carry around!"

"So you fixed the nerve sensors? The solar panels?"

"Uh- No. Unfortunately I don't have access to the receptors or the proper solar panels you need." He had explained while reattaching my arm. "But! But, it works a lot like mine!" He flashed his brass arm, glowing a soft red. "It's powered by redstone! Should last you a solid month before you need to recharge it!"

And there was the main problem. "How in the ever loving hell do I get this 'redstone' stuff? Heck, where could I even get it?"

"Easy! Me!" He flicked on a lever on the backside of my arm and it felt... Nice at the time. Sturdy. Like it wouldn't die on me when I needed it most. "I use the Parrot System, so as long as you can get mail through the Parrots you should be good!"

"... The who?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you this man began to glow with embarrassment. I mean he LITERALLY glowed. Pointy ears and face turning a bright red that GLOWED.

"Right, uh- The parrots! They're one of the middle tier delivery birds! I'm friends with their Flight Master! I... I take it you have no idea who I'm talking about."

"Not a damn clue."

"First of all, watch your tongue. Second! That's okay! I should have enough in store that should last you about three months- But you really need to find the Flight Masters. They'll help you in the long run."

When he stopped his rambling I focused on the newly upgraded arm. It is always a weird sensation, flexing a limb that's not really there. But the small tug of metal fingers and steel plates listening to one's mind is even weirder. And I mean REALLY weird.

"Who... Exactly are these Flight Masters?" I managed to ask him after a few moments of silence. "How do you... Get under their wing?"

"That-" The man paused and the red glow only grew. "That was a horrible pun-" He has a really nice laugh. Small but breathless.

"But it works! I mean, they have to be Birds of a Feather to Fly together-"

"Stop! Stop, no!"

"When am I going to stop, huh?! Never!" And then I started to laugh. I think it was just my mind needing something to focus on other than the glaring new arm attached to my body.

"Goodness you may be worse than Gri-" His laughter died when he barely mentioned a name. I couldn't get all of it, but it must be the Flight Master.

"Worse than...?"

"Y-You will find out eventually." His tune changed from that point going forward.

He eventually gave me his name (Mumbo) and gave me a quick summary of the three Flight Masters.

The Canary: Flight Master of the small, yellow birds that linger around Comparator City. Used by the residents of said city. Apparently the easiest one to befriend.

The Parrot: Flight Master of the robotic parrots that fly around all over the Crashlands. They're more tricky to get a hold of as they have a whole database on who's a customer and who's not. Need to find the Parrot Flight Master in order to get on the list.

The Crow: Flight Master of the Murders. Every crow I have seen so far apparently belongs to Him. And apparently the only way to find him is a mystery to even Mumbo. All I can do is hope for the best with that one.

That was all the information he was willing to tell me. Apparently I struck a nerve by getting him to almost spill the name of the Parrot Flight Master. I'm still resting in this small room, letting myself recover from being plowed by that big old machine.

I even tried asking him what that THING was that he hit me with! But he just shook his head and said it was a prototype I shouldn't bother myself with.

Things are just getting really overwhelming now. So much information to process. How do I find the Canary? Or hell, the Parrot? I'm not even going to TOUCH the subject of the Crow. What about the Demon? Is he still around? Is he in Comparator City? Will I run out of the weird redstone dust before I find the Parrot?

So many questions.

Too little answers.

I think I'm just going to shut off my mind for a little bit.

MLW

G.U.I.D.E. 67

[girlsneedff]

Tetris player!Chosou x f!reader (NSFW!!)

Minors and ageless bios please dni

Mating press, slight Tetris! babble, established relationship, breeding (slightly)

Author’s yap: ok ok so I basically sat and watched this Tetris tournament on TikTok and I got inspired… possibly one of the more unserious things I’ve written, but that’s ok!!

————

Tetris! is boring as shit.

How could someone sit there in front of a rickety old 8-bit, shitty quality game and have fun for hours? It was stupid.

Well, that was before you started dating an 8-time Tetris! champion. Now the game is absolutely amazing- a Heaven sent.

Chosou Kamo’s a man of few words. Even when he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out (you were in the same humanities class), it went like this:

“Hello, we- ………date?” The blush saturated his cheeks as he twiddled his thumbs while remaining eye contact.

Oh, those thumbs.

He’s cute, and you’ve been ogling him a bit (a lot) during class, so of course you took up his offer, regardless of how ill-planned it was.

Next thing you know, you’re at his place- always watching him prep for a tournament he’s competing in. Whether it’s an actual controller or on his pc- he practices for hours- at least 3. His hair is in his usual messy pigtails as he chews the inside of this right cheek.

Next Tetrimino is an O- he moves that to the left-most end of the field. Then it’s a T- he flipped it so it fits nicely into this little slot he had created with some past pieces. He gets an I- his face lights up as he gleefully moves it to the right-most end of the field, sliding it into the perfect position and boom: Tetris!

A line of 4 disappears with this completion, and the game continues, his fingers moving at rapid paces to keep up. His eyes flicker to you, to make sure that you saw his victory, then back to the game.

You must admit, when he first told you he was a multi-time Tetris! winner, you damn near laughed at him. You wouldn’t do it in his face- but you definitely have scoffed thinking about it before.

“Hi- oh yea this is my boyfriend. Oh what does he do? Well he’s a Tetris! Champion!”

Your peers would look at you sideways.

But you couldn’t give a rat’s ass what they think now. You’d scream it from the rooftops actually. He’s made you scream a lot more embarrassing things than that.

You owe Tetris! your sex life. Truly. In your vows, you might give Tetris! a shoutout. Because the way that this man knows how to work his fingers- it’s unnatural. How he works his everything- jeez he’s Heaven sent.

————

“Baby, I need an opponent.”

You sit up to look at your boyfriend. He’s sitting in his gaming chair, still working away at Tetris, while you lie on his bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Why don’t you call up your frien-”

“Play with me.”

You freeze. This was the first time he’s ever brought this up. You’ve been coming over for 4 months now, and never once had he asked you to play with him.

“You know I don’t really know anything about Tetris!, right?”

“I’ll teach you. I just need to practice for tomorrow against somebody. It will help get me in the mood.”

It sure as hell did help him get in a mood. Sitting in his lap, he hands you his other console, makes sure you’re ok, and presses play. His console rests on your lap, while you hold yours up a bit.

…

And he lost.

…

Because how the flying fuck did you two end up on the bed?

Lock down: When a Tetrimino is put into a place where it’s no longer moveable. Kinda like how you are now.

Choso supports himself on your bent thighs with knees damn-near touching your ears as he towers above you, sweaty strands of hair still sticking to his face as he keeps eye contact. There’s no possible way you could escape this- even if you wanted to.

Then, he does his next signature move: Hard Drop. When a player drops a Tetrimino right into Lock Down from its starting position- no alterations.

Well, save for the fact that he had you line him up with your cunt, he’s by the book.

Who knew that Tetris! players would be so good at multitasking? With every stroke, he plays with your clit like he’s moving pieces- this Tetris!-junkie really doesn’t quit. He keeps it at a steady pace, steady force. All the way to left field- down. In the middle- he lets it wait for a little bit before he moves it to the right and down. It’s dizzying.

The way his dick is stretching you, and how his lithe fingers work to bully your clit into submission, you felt like you were levitating.

Then he starts fucking drawing the Tetriminos on your clit. You swear you’re actually in Heaven, the angels singing choruses of Tetris! hymns and praises while perched upon fluffy white cumulus clouds. Your mouth is in a permanent “O” position.

He definitely felt you clench around him- he lets out a breathy moan- louder than the noises he was already making. He has an airy type of grit in his voice every time you have sex- one of the many things that you love about this man.

Chosou leans close to your right ear, deepening the position as he speaks:

“Z, I, L, O, J…”

Before you know it you’re creaming- babbling random nonsense that you definitely don’t remember, but definitely know it was embarrassing. Cumming from him saying letters? How pathetic. But you don’t give a goddamn fuck.

You dig your fingers into your own flesh, since you were propping yourself up properly.

Chosou kisses your cheek and your neck as he continues to fuck you through your high.

He finally succumbs to his own desire, pumping everything that he has inside you with a soft, yet kind of whiny moan.

From that moment onwards, you vowed that you will never disrespect Tetris! again.

[justhere4thevibez]

psspssspsppsppppp what's the instagram oneshot 👀👀👀👀👀🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

yes yes! so this is loosely based on a thing I saw circulating on tumblr (or maybe instagram, I stupidly didn't save the link) about somebody getting a message from an old classmate asking for a doughnut recipe from when they were in school together (if anybody knows what I'm talking about and has the link, I'd be forever grateful if you sent it my way!). Here's a little snippet to enjoy!

“You remember those doughnuts you used to make back in the day?” Eddie asked. “Yeah,” Wayne said slowly, sounding suspicious. “Why?” “Well, there’s this girl—” Wayne guffawed. “Damn well knew it.” “Hey, that’s not—” Eddie took a deep breath. He doesn’t know anything. “A girl I used to know asked me if I still had the recipe. That’s all, Wayne.” “What girl was this now?” he asked innocently. “Her name is, uh—” He won’t remember her. There’s no way. “Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham.” “Hmm.” Wayne contemplated silently for a moment. “Pigtails, right? Little cheerleader?” An image flashed through Eddie’s mind of sixth-grade Chrissy with her slightly crooked pigtails waiting nervously backstage at the talent show. How the hell had Wayne remembered that? “That’s the one.” “You were sweet on her something awful, weren’t you?” “Wayne,” Eddie hissed. “Shut up.”

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter two: lips of an angel

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 5.1k

a/n: thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing this series for me <333 love you bestie, the only one i'd wanna be a sister wife with

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Nice To Meet You?

Hey,

I got an email that we were matched for Sweet Temptations. I figured I would reach out and introduce myself, maybe get to know you a bit if you are alright with that.

Feel free to call me Javi. I am honestly not sure what else I’m meant to do in an introduction like this. I promise I am normally much smoother than this, or at least more human and less awkward.

It’s nice to meet you, and to be matched up with you, Angel. If that’s what I should call you?

J

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hi Javi!

It’s nice to meet you too, and hopefully, we get to meet in person. These first emails are always awkward no matter how many I’ve sent or received, so please be assured that, honestly, that was one of the better ones I’ve gotten. :) 

I normally like to ask what you’re looking for out of this “arrangement” (I hate calling it that, it sounds so impersonal) and maybe you can tell me some fun facts about you if you want to share!

I can go first for the fun facts:

Green is my favorite color

I unironically love the song MMMBop by Hansen (which is unexpected if you saw the rest of my tape and CD collection)

My current favorite movie is Romeo + Juliet that came out a couple of years ago cause Paul Rudd <3

That’s about all that I can think of as I sit in bed and type this so hopefully that is sufficient enough!

TTYL Javi,

Angel

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hey Angel

Paul Rudd is pretty likable, I’ll give you that. Is he your type? Cause I hate to break it to you sweetheart but I don’t really look like him. Both have dark hair but that’s about where the similarities stop. And Romeo + Juliet huh? Must be a bit of a romantic.

And MMMBop…it is catchy. I have to stop myself humming it at work these days.

As for what I’m looking for, I guess I just want someone to spend some time with. Whatever comes of it, comes of it, but I don’t want to really have any expectations. Just wanna get to know you, Angel.

Took me a while to think of some fun facts:

I grew up on a cattle ranch right on the border of Mexico in Southern Texas

When I was little (like 9/10 years old) my primos dared me to enter a rodeo for Mutton Busting (chasing a sheep around to try to catch it)

A CD of Selena stays in my car at all times, and yes, I know all the words

Hope those were fun enough for you, Angel.

And I hope you have a good day today.

J

The emails continued for about a week and a half, Javier slowly became more comfortable with the virtual communications. Angel was bubbly, and sweet, always asking him questions and always interested in hearing about his day or what his favorite book was. It was either his loneliness or a newfound desperation that had his heart skipping when the sound of new mail pinged from his desktop.

It felt a bit strange to have such normal exchanges with Angel and be reminded of the circumstances with his bank statement for the charges that the service takes monthly. With how personable Angel has been even via email, he finds himself forgetting what exactly brought them together. Maybe all the mystery and excitement will wear off when the two of you meet, but something deep in his gut is telling him that isn’t going to happen.

He drags himself away from his desk, no response from Angel yet today. All he can think about is how he hopes there’s a new message when he comes back, gathering his things to head to the lecture hall for the third week of Sociology of Deviance.

In the beginning, he thought this class was going to be a chore to do. Stuck onto his schedule last minute, had new material to cover, and had an annoying Dean of Faculty checking in on him much more often because of it. However, a handful of sessions in, he’s got a bit of a skip in his step to rush over there, the familiar jump in his stomach when he thinks about you.

The pretty fall floral dresses you’ve started wearing with the change in weather, large cardigans pulled over the top. You’ve worn a few flannels over your shoulders, clearly oversized and he feels a prick of jealousy whenever he sees you in them.

Do you have a boyfriend? Are those shirts his?

What would you look like in one of his button-downs?

Christ, the thoughts won’t stop no matter how hard he tries. Another reason why he is attempting to completely throw himself into this new “arrangement”, hoping it would be a means to an end to his crush on his student.

That’s what it is. He has a fucking crush.

He hasn’t had a crush in years.

Laying everything out for the class session, he starts writing the discussion points on the board. At the sound of the door violently swinging open and a rumble of loud footsteps rushing, he looks over his shoulder to see you, belongings in your arms and clearly flustered. His jaw drops open to ask if you’re alright, making a burning flash of eye contact with you before you drop your head, embarrassed, and find your seat.

Turning back to the chalkboard, he shakes his head minutely, rolling his shoulders before continuing his writing, white powder from the chalk coating his fingers. Instead of his normal thoughts of you, he keeps fighting the urge to ask if you’re okay. In the short time he’s known you if you could even say that about your dynamic, he knows it’s very unusual for you to come in that incomposed. He wipes the residue off on his pants, facing the class. 

While he teaches, his eyes continue to wander to you, oddly quiet when you would normally be engaged in the discussion. That kid Alex, obnoxious from the jump, is taking up far too much air time in this class, and Javier can’t help the annoyance on his face as he leans back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for this kid to finish his long-winded, and incorrect answer.

You scoff audibly at a point that Alex made, piquing Javier’s attention. The two of you make eye contact again, and Javier suddenly unravels one arm from his chest, holding it up toward Alex.

“Excuse me, Alex, I respect your points but I think there might be some counters to your arguments. I want to be able to hear them before we move on,” Javier calls out your name, and his head snaps to you, nodding encouragingly, “What were your thoughts?”

“Oh, um, I was going to say that I don’t think that socioeconomic or social standing is the only explanation for the makeup of the prison system. And I think it’s pretty naive to think that it’s only rich people that get off with less severe punishments.” Javier watches your shoulders tense a bit at the obvious eye roll from Alex, the pen in between your fingers bouncing with nerves.

“Do you mind expanding on that? I’m interested in what you think is another reason,” Javier holds eye contact with you, the slightest smile on his face to reassure you to stand your ground in the argument.

“I mean, to me, It’s pretty obvious that the biggest reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. White people dominate the political landscape and the prejudices, even unconscious bias, contribute to the makeup of the incarcerated population. Judges will give favorable or less severe punishments to white defendants, and of course, class biases are a thing, especially because of the cost of criminal defense, but I think the overt, umbrella reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. It’s built into the systems of government, which is pretty depressing…”

You trail off and laugh awkwardly at the silence in the room, some classmates nodding in agreement while some are unphased, uninterested. 

“That’s good. That’s exactly what I was hoping would be brought up by someone,” Javier nods to you, pointing in your direction before he rounds the desk to start writing on the board for students to take down in their notes.

In your seat, you start to copy down into your notebook, glancing up to see him look over his shoulder at you. One corner of his mouth lifts, a smile in his eyes as you try to bite back your own grin that threatens to expose how much you enjoyed his short praises.

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Wanna Meet Up?

Hiiii Javi

I’ve had such a shitty day today, but honestly, I was still excited to be able to come home and talk to you. :)

Do you think you’d be interested in meeting in person this weekend? I’m free Saturday night if you are. LMK!

Hope your day was better than mine!

xoxo,

Angel

Plans were made to meet Saturday night around eight o’clock. Javier had chosen a bar he’d become familiar with on those nights when he couldn’t sleep, when the memories of Colombia were too much when he couldn’t stop thinking about those damn boats that were in his backyard.

The place is small, intimate, and quiet enough to hold a conversation — which he knew from the one or two times he’d picked up someone and brought them back to his apartment. There was always some sort of live music, usually some jazz or folksy blues, that could fill any first-date awkward silences.

In his last email to her, Javier told Angel that he’d be in the back of the bar, at a table for two, wearing jeans and a red short-sleeve button-up shirt. He makes sure to arrive first, getting there a bit overly early at 7:30 to snag a table and order himself a drink to calm his nerves. Pounding the glass back on the bar top, he orders another whiskey neat to nurse until she arrives.

This is a different feeling than he’s had before a date. Nerves aren’t normally his thing when it comes to women, but something about this night feels higher stakes than before.

Get it together, Javi. It’s a date, if it goes horribly, you don’t have to do it again. Plus, she doesn’t even need to be interested in you, this is her job.

When you arrive at the tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar, you nod thanks to the man holding the door for you, rolling your eyes when you get a comment from him that you didn’t ask for.

“Nice tits, sweetheart.” He slurs and sends you a wink that is definitely more of a blink. You slip past him without issue, scanning the small area for the man with dark hair and a red shirt on. At this point, with how many times you’ve done this, you’re normally not nervous to meet these men in person. It’s something you’re obligated to do, like showing up for any other job, and that’s how you treat it.

But this time around, something’s different. Talking with Javier has actually been….nice? He’s responsive and wants to get to know you, never taking more than a day to get back to you. He’s asked you more questions about yourself than anyone else has before and he always, always wants to hear about your day. If you weren’t careful, you could see yourself getting attached.

Well, getting attached if he’s anything like you’ve imagined him. Or who you’ve imagined him to be.

The only red shirt you can spot is on a man sitting at a table toward the back, facing away from the door and toward the stage in the corner where a jazz trio is playing a low, crooning song. Biting back a smile, you start to make your way over to him, admiring him from behind.

It’s broad shoulders and a strong neck, muscles flexing as he adjusts in his seat. His dark, chocolatey hair is combed nicely, so much so that you can’t help but have the thought of running your fingers through it and messing it up.

Dressed in a black dress with blotted red lips, you weave in between people, ignoring anyone else as you keep your eyes on the man you’re here to meet. Javi stays facing forward, watching the band play even as you stand behind him, cheated to his side a bit. Holding your breath, you lean closer and tap him on his shoulder.

“Um, excuse me, Javi?”

At the sound of his name, Javier turns over his shoulder to his right, a smile on his face already from the honeyed kindness in her voice. She did really sound like an angel for a second there before he realized where the sound was coming from.

“Yeah, I’m Ja—“ The sound stops in his throat when he is facing you. Your supple lips with the dainty Cupid’s bow, rouged cheeks, and gentle smile; normally in a nice dress or cardigan in class, but here you’re wearing much less material, more of your skin on display.

What would it be like to kiss it?

No. That is not ever going to happen.

Those doe eyes hold an innate tenderness that he couldn’t imagine ever being privy to, but here he was, under the stare of those and it was making him sweat. He can only imagine what he looks like to you at the moment, eyes wide and mouth blubbering to speak like a fish gasping for air.

You recognized him at the same time, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the word vomit threatening to come out. If it did, you know you would end up spilling how honestly excited you are that the man you’ve been emailing with has turned out to be Professor Peña. You’ve harbored a bit of a crush on him for the last few weeks, ever since that smile he gave you when you introduced yourself after the first session. It had been burning moments of eye contact, and those gentle encouragements from him.

Hell, after class this week when he praised your counterarguments, you thought about his voice saying “That’s good” over and over while you laid in your bed that night, coming with the image of him over you in record time.

The first word out of his mouth is your name, tone flicked up at the end in a question. He grumbles to himself as he moves to stand up, forgetting his drink on the table.

“Fuck, this is bad…” He whispers under his breath, shaking his head at himself as he runs his hands on the sides of his jeans. “I’m so sorry.”

He steps back to further the distance between you two, awkwardly avoiding your eyes as he attempts to recover his professionalism.

“It’s alr—“

“I had no idea it was you. This is completely inappropriate, I apologize. I should leave, uh, and I completely understand if you need to change out of my class. I know it’s past the cut-off date, but I would help if you needed—”

“Javi — can I call you that?” He considers it for a moment before nodding, rigidity evident in his body, “Javi, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize, neither of us knew before this moment…But I do have to say, I wouldn’t tell.”

“Uh, I’m sorry — what?”

“I wouldn’t say anything. If you wanted to sit down and have a drink, or a few, and get to know each other like we planned to, I wouldn’t say a word. Even if you weren’t interested after this, I promise, the secret’s safe with me.”

Javier can’t deny how much he was looking forward to meeting the woman he was emailing with. And he can’t deny that he’s had his eyes on you since that first meeting. Hell, he can barely control his thoughts around you.

Of course, it had to be you. The two people he can’t get out of his head have turned out to be only one person, and of course, it’s you.

“If it informs your decision, I would love to get to know you more, Javi.”

He stutters through his thoughts out loud before resigning with a sigh, taking a breath as he forms his response, “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Definitely. Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Now, may I join you?” You gesture to the empty chair and Javi nods quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Here, let me get that.” He visibly relaxes a bit, falling into a routine he knows well. Rounding the small table, he pulls your chair out for you before settling in the seat opposite. Shortly after, a server comes around and takes your drink orders, Javier looking to you to go first. After the order is placed, the server leaves the two of you in silence at the table.

Another beat passes before Javier speaks, saying what you both are thinking, “Sorry, I just, cannot believe it happened to be you.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a lilt of humor in your voice, sitting up in the chair to move toward him, “Don’t think I would be into all this?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but—Actually I should not say what I was about to say,” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Oh, c’mon, what were you gonna say?”

“Nope, definitely not going to tell you, sweetheart,” he smirks at you and then adjusts in his seat awkwardly, “Oh, ‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have sa—“

“Javi. It’s fine, just relax. You’re not making me uncomfortable at all if that’s what you’re worried about,” you give him a sincere smile, reaching across to hold his arm that’s lying on the table, “It’s actually kind of nice to have those nicknames coming from you and not some other creepy men who contact me.”

“Why’s that?” He echoes your question from moments before, eyebrows raising in curiosity and the same smirk growing on his face, glancing down at your hand on him.

“I shouldn’t say what I was about to say,” you attempt to imitate his voice, laughing at the end when he gives you a look that says ‘Really?’.

“I don’t sound like that, cariño. But that’s a good try. Now what is it that makes me nicer than the other men you’ve seen?”

‘That’s a good try.’ This man.

“And how do you know that? I could be nailing what you sound like to other people. You hear your voice differently.” You poke his arm pointedly, moving your hand toward your lap again. Before it leaves the table, Javier stretches his arm across, catching your fingers with his. He holds them loosely in his, running his thumb across your knuckles as he keeps eye contact with you.

“I’ve heard my voice enough in press conferences that were televised, angel. I don’t sound like that,” he uses his free hand to take a sip of his whiskey, “And don’t try to change the subject. I wanna know what you are gonna say.”

“I could say the same thing to you. We both have our secrets tonight,” you take a sip of your drink and shrug, “You tell me yours and I���ll tell you mine.”

“Nice negotiating, cariño, but I think I’d have to have a few more of these if I was going to share mine.” He raises his glass a couple of inches off the table, the amber liquid sloshing around before he sets it down again.

You’d say anything to get him to keep giving you praise like that all the time.

Grabbing your own glass, you lift it to him and smile, “Well, only one of these and I’ll be spilling all my dirty secrets.”

Javier’s jaw notches to the side as you say that, biting his cheek before he takes his hand from yours and runs his thumb across his bottom lip to the corner.

Inside his chest, he feels his heart beating faster and feels his blood rushing south, that same damn smile of yours that you give him from rows away in class doing the same damn thing it does to him there.

Half of him is wondering how he can make you smile like that all the time.

The other half wants to wipe that smile off of your face and have you whimpering.

What would you look like under him?

Jesus Christ, he’s way far gone.

Javier’s had three more whiskeys on top of his previous three. You’ve had about four drinks yourself.

The evening has devolved into something much more casual, breezy; conversation has flowed between you two, finding things in common and swapping stories that have the other laughing. From the serious professor in class, this more easy-going Javi is refreshing to see and definitely makes your crush a lot worse, somersaulting stomach and warm, syrupy flood across your whole body.

The subject has returned to the evening’s secrets, you asking him again to share what he was going to say.

“Please, Javi, it can’t be any more embarrassing than what mine is. I’ll tell you what I was gonna say if you promise to tell me.” You extend your arm, fingers closed into a fist beside your pinky.

He looks at your hand, debating internally before deciding ‘fuck it’ and links his little finger with yours.

“I promise, cariño,” he smiles and nods for you to share, “What are you dying to tell me so that you can hear what I was gonna say?”

“The affection from you is nice cause, I don’t know, you feel…safe. When I first started, I was getting some weird men that wanted to meet, and—This has just been fun,” you resign with a soft smile, “Plus it helps that you’re hot. Got the whole smoldering cop with the porn stache thing.”

“Smoldering cop with the porn stache? I didn’t realize that was a thing,” he laughs, the crinkles next to his eyes deepening before he takes your hand lying on the table, “I’m glad this has been fun for you. After all that shock and awkwardness at the beginning, I think it’s been really nice to get to know you, angel.”

“Alright, I shared my little secret, you share yours now.”

Javier sighs, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. He takes a moment to speak before he meets your eyes, a resistant smirk on his face, “You are really gonna make me say this?”

“You pinky promised! I didn’t make you do that, there’s no coercion here, Javier.”

“Fine, fine. You’re too quick, cariño,” he squeezes your fingers with his, “I was gonna say before that I couldn’t believe it happened to be you ‘cause—It’s stupid, really, but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since that first class, querida.”

“A crush? The sexy Professor Peña has a crush on me?”

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Can’t keep ‘em off of you, cariño. Too beautiful. And you’re fucking on it all the time, so goddamn smart. I really am convinced you should be teaching for me,” he glances down sheepishly, feeling exposed from his tipsy confession.

The surface of your cheeks heats up, feeling a tingle down your spine when his eyes meet yours again. Leaning forward across the table, you bite your bottom lip as you drink him all in.

“D’you think I’ll ever be able to properly pay attention in class again after that?”

“You better, sweetheart. Just cause I’ve got a crush on you doesn’t mean you’ll get a good grade. Not gonna go easy on you. Fair’s fair.”

“Mm, I don’t mind it hard. I prefer it that way, actually. Makes it much more satisfying when you finish.” Your tongue wets your lips before you take your bottom one between your teeth, watching as Javier’s eyes darken at your double entendre.

He shakes his head, giving you a knowing look about your mischievous word choice, “Better be ready for a challenge then, angel.”

“Always, Peña.”

It’s late now, verging on turning into Sunday; the hours flew by with each other. Javier noticed the time on his watch, the crowd in the bar was sparse in spots that were full when he got there. When he looks at you, your eyelids look heavy, and those normally wide and bright eyes, eager and excited, look drowsy and content, so close to slipping closed and turning your mind off for the night.

“You ready to head out, angel? We’ll go find you a cab.” He asks with a subtle smile on his face, scooting out of his chair and standing, offering a hand to you.

“Yeah, m’ready.” You rise after taking his hand, hiking your small rectangular bag over your shoulder and stepping closer to him as he switches which hand is holding yours. Right in right, he grips yours from the outside of your palm, fingers lacing together as he presses his left into the small of your back, weaving between the patrons and out the front door.

The air is crisp when the door breaks open, cool air surrounding your warm, alcohol-blanketed bodies. Javier's touch still surrounds you, your right shoulder pressing into his chest when you turn to say something to him.

He takes a step back, allowing you the space to rotate fully in his arms, meeting his eyes and feeling a grin toy at your lips.

“Tonight was nice.”

“It was. Think I should be saying thanks to you. M’glad you had me stay.”

“Yeah? Well, m’happy to hear that cause I was gonna say, if you wanted to keep this up — meeting up, the arrangement all of that — if you wanted to keep it up for the semester, I would happily keep the secret. Y’know, you help me, I help you kind of thing. We just have fun.”

Javier considers the offer, ticking his jaw as he debates internally. On one hand, it’s a massive risk. The two of you could be seen out with each other, or if anyone noticed anything different in class, it could jeopardize his job, and possibly your degree. But on the other hand, if every night with you is like this one, he’s hard-pressed to say no. You’re funny and intelligent and beautiful — sure, there’s the element of how you two met and what happens behind the scenes, money taken out of his account monthly and forwarded to you through the service — but with the way you’ve had his heart pumping from your sweetness and his cock half hard at how turned on you have him constantly, he really can’t find a fuck to give about the risk.

“Alright. If you are in for it, I definitely am, angel,” he grins at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips when his eyes flit to yours, the faint red lipstick of yours still holding strong.

“Good, Javi. That’s good,” your voice is a purr, a smug smirk playing at your lips when he leans in closer, walking you back towards the brick facade of the bar. His knees nearly give out when he hears those small praises, already waiting for the next time you speak them to him.

“Can I…?” he trails off, the tip of his nose only an inch from yours.

“You can kiss me, Javi.”

Without wasting another second, he catches his lips with yours, gentle at first with soft, delicate kisses exchanged. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, a breathy whimper parting your mouth enough for him to lick into it, melting his tongue with yours. One of his hands moves to hold your jaw, the other stagnant at your hip. A step closer brings him flush against you, quiet moans muffled into each other’s mouths.

The roughness of the brick is harsh against your bare skin on display, the contrasting sensations pooling arousal in between your legs. Javier tastes like tobacco, whiskey, and mint gum; an interesting combination but an intoxicating one. His hand at your hip moves around to your ass, pulling you off the wall slightly and against him, his growing bulge felt against your torso.

Before the two of you can get completely lost in each other, you pull away, hands on his chest. A taxi pulls up at that moment, honking its horn in question if you need a ride. You wave to him and ask for one minute with your fingers, turning back to Javi standing in front of you a bit breathless.

“I should go. Got some reading to do for this class on Monday that I’ve got.”

“Oh, yeah? Hope your professor hasn’t been killing you with the readings,” he smirks back at you.

“Nah, he hasn’t been killing me but seems like he does really wanna give it to me. Must have some high expectations,” your voice is coated with a lilt of teasing, winking at him as you slip from his arms.

He follows close behind to walk you to the cab, a hand finding your back and dropping down to graze his fingers across your ass.

“Think you’ll have no trouble exceeding those expectations, angel. Plus you could always ask for one-on-one tutoring or some extra credit.” It’s his turn to wink, opening the rear door for you and helping you in.

“Glad I have your confidence, Javi. Here, gimme your phone I’ll give you my number.” You reach out and he fumbles it from his pocket, passing it off to you. The information is quickly entered and saved, handing his device back to him and looking up at him from the seat of the cab.

“I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

Javier grew up religious, his mamá dragging him to church every Sunday. He’s only been back to church at the major holidays he’s been home, leaving behind any spiritual side of him. All the concepts of eternal souls and heaven and hell meant nothing to him.

However, tonight, he felt an inkling to believe that heaven was real, and he had met an angel.

His angel.

tagging those from last time: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST, PLEASE FILL THIS FORM OUT! thank you!

[marlynnofmany]

Star-Crossed

It’s not that I make a habit of being the nosy one on the spaceship, but some things you just can’t walk past. And an argument over whether to tell the captain was one of them.

I paused in the hallway, one foot in the air and my arms full of boxes from the storage hold, then I spun on my heel and went back to the doorway that Trrili was so fond of leaping out of. She wasn’t startling crewmates today. She was trying to convince Coals that something wasn’t worth bothering the captain about.

“There are no settlementssss nearby,” she said, hissing in irritation. “It is moving slowly. Old information.” She loomed over him, all black and red and mandibles and pincher arms.

Coals was just as unimpressed as usual. “Could still be useful information to someone,” he said, arms crossed and scaly face impassive.

“It issss marked,” Trrili said slowly, “For courtship.”

“That’s been known to be important,” Coals replied.

“Old information!” Trrili said again.

“What is?” I piped up from the hallway.

Trrili turned her faceted eyes on me. “A small message beacon that is clearly a waste of our precious time.”

“Might not be,” Coals said, not moving.

“Is it much of a detour?” I asked.

“Nope,” Coals said.

“Then it couldn’t hurt to look, right? I don’t think we’re behind schedule.”

Trrili made a hissing groan, waving pincher arms and forelegs both. “It is a courtship note! Those are beyond tiresome! And it is bound to be outdated!”

Coals tactfully stepped aside. “Could have been dropped by a passing ship.”

“At that speed?” Trrili demanded, jabbing a wrist-finger at one of the screens on the console behind her. “A wrench dropped in hull maintenance moves faster than that.”

I leaned to get a look without stepping into accidental whacking range. There did seem to be a radar-style image of a blinking dot off to the side of our projected route. I couldn’t make out all the words from across the room, but I did see one that looked like “courtship.” At least it wasn’t a distress beacon.

“So what does that classification mean?” I asked. “Is it a love note drifting through space? Did someone not have a way to send a proper transmission?”

Coals tipped his lizardy head in a shrug. “I’d say it was meant to be a secret, but then, it’s broadcasting for anyone nearby to pick up. My bet is that the sender didn’t know exactly where to find the recipient, so they launched this in their general direction.”

“A long time ago,” Trrili reminded him. “This area is empty.”

“Could have been aimed from one ship to another,” Coals said.

I looked at the screen, my head full of stories about forbidden romances and near-misses told by generations of Earthlings. “We should check. It could be very important. And it’s not far, right?”

Coals stepped toward the intercom. “Not at all. Let’s see what the captain says.”

Trrili threw her pinchers into the air like she was releasing prey that was too much trouble to bother with, but said nothing while he called the cockpit. I stood in the doorway and waited.

Captain Sunlight, as it turned out, saw no problem in a minor detour to pick up the message beacon. In moments, the ship was aimed in a new direction and instructions were being sent to the crew nearest the airlock to be ready.

Trrili grumbled mightily. Coals looked smug.

Excited, I dashed off to leave the boxes of supplies in the kitchen (I’d unpack them properly later), then join up with Coals and Trrili at the cargo bay.

“How are we going to grab it?” I asked when I arrived, noticing that they weren’t putting on exo suits. “Send somebody out to scoop it up, maybe use an extendo tool?”

“No need,” Coals said. He held a bucket and a pair of gloves. “Kavlae is going to just park us in its pathway and open the door. It’s not fast enough to dent anything.”

I laughed at that while Trrili brandished a scanner of some sort. “I will check it for contamination just in cassssse,” she hissed. “Not taking chances on something this ssssstupid.”

Coals looked up at me. “The ship scanners are fine. She just likes to be sure.”

Trrili hissed again.

From the far end of the cargo bay, where Blip and Blop stood on either side of the airlock like muscle-fish sentinels, the familiar opening chime sounded. Blip and Blop were also wearing gloves, I noticed. I was starting to wonder what kind of message beacons the crew had encountered before I’d joined up.

The little porthole on the inner door went dark as the outer door opened onto the blackness of space. Everyone was silent for long enough that I started to wonder if Kavlae had missed. But then there was a bang on the door, and the porthole turned silver again.

Blip looked through the porthole. “Got it!” she said. “Looks intact.”

The intercom pinged, and Kavlae said the ship scanners had cleared it of both contagion and heat. “So get it already; we want to know what it says.”

Blip opened the airlock while the rest of us crowded close. She picked up the mechanical whatsit the size of a shoe, then handed it to Coals with more ceremony than necessary. He’d already put down the bucket and gloves.

I was glad he knew how the thing worked, because I was still trying to figure out if it had buttons or touchpads when he pressed play. The message was spoken aloud and written in the air as well; how thorough.

It was a language that I didn’t speak. How annoying.

Judging by the body language of the various fins and antennae in attendance, Blip and Blop also had no idea what the message said, but Trrili and Coals were thinking hard.

“Meeting location,” Trrili murmured. She pointed a wrist finger at one squiggle in the air. “Is this the word for asteroid or planetary rock?”

“I’m more interested in this bit,” Coals told her, jiggling the display while he adjusted his grip to point out something near the end. “Don’t let the what catch you?”

They bickered about it while the message played on a loop, sounding less like proper language and more like an agitated waterfowl as far as I was concerned. Not that I was about to judge a sentient species for that, of course. I’d met stranger.

“This part has to be flowery symbolism,” Coals said. “Something about using rock-cutters to carve out a new life together.”

“Aw,” I said without meaning to.

Trrili flicked an antenna in my direction, but otherwise ignored me. “I do not see any reference to the time period, other than that part about the authority figures arriving.”

“Is this line talking about using those rock-cutters on the authorities instead of the rocks?” Coals asked.

Blip and Blop chorused, “Ooh.” They were hanging on every word, reminding me of bodybuilders entranced by a kitten. I smiled quietly and listened. I was curious too; this was getting good.

Trrili studied the line in question. “Obscure phrasing, but yes. I approve of this courtship.”

“So are these two people planning to meet up and fight off the oppressors keeping them apart?” I asked. “We have to see if we can get the message back to them! What if one is waiting to hear from the other?”

“I still say it is old,” Trrili said, but she didn’t sound as adamant this time.

“Can’t hurt to check,” Coals declared.

Blip and Blop cheered, then dashed for the intercom and elbowed each other over who got to tell the captain. (Blop won, but I think Blip let him because she’d been the one to open the door earlier.)

As soon as the intercom was on, Blop announced, “It’s a message between a courting pair who are going to fight their enemies together! Arranging a meeting! Can we go deliver it?”

Captain Sunlight sounded amused when she said, “Kavlae has already calculated its most likely origin. The region isn’t known to be dangerous to outsiders, so I’d say that’s worth a further detour.”

Blip and Blop cheered again.

The captain continued, asking Coals to bring her the best translation they could manage in the next few minutes. This really was a small detour. By the sound of it, we’d be there pretty darn soon. Hooray for top-of-the-line starship engines (or near top, according to Mimi in the engine room).

This was just enough time for our two translators to take it back to their office and wrangle the details, while Blip and Blop finished whatever they were doing and I put away those supplies.

I hurried. The jars of spices and extra napkins didn’t have to all be stored the right way up.

Coals and Trrili must have found a translation file for that exact language, because they were done almost before I was. I returned the empty boxes to the storage hold while I listened to Captain Sunlight read the translation over the whole-ship line of the intercom, so the crew was on the same page about our detour. She was always thoughtful that way.

And what a message it was. Star-crossed lovers on rival asteroid mining installations, one pledging undying love to the other! Suggesting plans to meet, and do a great many things with those mining tools. And yes, more than a hint of glorious rebellion against cruel overlords.

If the captain hadn’t already agreed to go, I would have been campaigning outside the cockpit. With some concern for the danger, if course. Rebellions are rarely safe for anyone, including random courier ships with no business being there. But the region really was marked as safe.

Hmm.

Was that rating a lie? Propaganda? Had the rebellion already been squashed? Or did we have the wrong asteroid belt entirely?

I was unabashed in my nosiness this time, peeking into the cockpit for a glimpse of our destination as it came on screen. Coals was there behind the captain’s chair, holding the message thingy with his usual dignity while Kavlae worked the controls, blue frills folded in concentration. Trrili was in the hallway with me because she was really too big for the remaining space in the room. She was probably grumpy about that, but honestly it was hard to tell. She watched the screen too.

When I’d heard “asteroid mining colony,” I’d pictured gray rocks and space suits, pickaxes and long work hours. This was … not that.

The asteroids were painted bright colors. They had houses on them. Also gravity generators, by the looks of it. And they were far closer together than any natural asteroid belt had any right to be, yet they weren’t crashing into each other any more than the zippy little cruisers going back and forth were. It looked like a suburb in space.

This was definitely the right species, though. The face that popped onscreen at the captain’s hail was birdlike, with white-flecked black feathers, a wide beak, and a voice best described as quackity. Recognizable words, though.

“Sky River Information Center,” she said. “How can I help you?”

“Hello,” said Captain Sunlight. “We intercepted a message meant for someone in this region. Is there a mining colony anywhere about?”

Quackity laughter. “There was! Oh grasses, did you find something that one of the miners threw at each other and missed?”

Beside me, Trrili folded her pinchers smugly. She whispered, “Old information. Ssssshhould have listened to me.”

Captain Sunlight maintained her calm. “That does appear to be the case,” she said. “It’s a message between — What are the names, Coals?”

Coals stepped forward with the message capsule. “Sharpeye of the Tall Reeds and Mud-dancer of the Deep Shadows.”

The duck lady’s amusement vanished. “WHAT? You found a message between them?”

“Yes,” the captain said. She ushered Coals further forward to make sure the camera saw the message capsule. “Were they important?”

“I’ll say!” The duck lady made frantic gestures to someone offscreen. “They spearheaded the Miner’s Revolution that made everything possible! I can’t believe this. Please, come land on the central pad, the blue one. A great many people would like to get a look at that message.”

Coals cast a smug grin over his shoulder at Trrili while the captain directed the landing. Trrili threw her pinchers in the air again, but didn’t leave. The official was still talking history.

“The battles were fierce from the start,” she said. “Mud-dancer and Sharpeye led more than one attack from opposite directions, coordinated in a way that was most unexpected.”

“Did they survive?” I asked quietly. When the captain raised a browridge at me, I elaborated. “Did they live to see that happy future together that they wanted?”

“Oh yes,” the duck lady said brightly. “They had an exceptionally productive mating season. I think they even met up again on a different year, though that’s hearsay. Certainly possible, given how many people around here claim to be direct descendants!”

“Oh,” I said. In all my thoughts about the undying romance of the whole thing, it had never occurred to me that the species in question might not mate for life. “Good for them.”

Trrili was hissing again, but this time it was laughter at my expense.

Duck lady didn’t even notice. “If I recall, there’s a nesting lake named after them back on the homeworld. One of the new ones, not an ancestral thing, but still a pretty big honor. They deserve all of that and more!”

“I’m sure they do,” Captain Sunlight said. “We’re coming in to land now. I don’t suppose there would be any sort of finder’s reward for an item with such historic value?”

“I have already called the Points to join us immediately,” she said. “They will certainly want to be generous.”

With my thoughts on trying to figure out that honorific (picturing a flock of ducks flying in a V after the leader), I could almost ignore Trrili’s hissing. Almost.

“Did you think they would spend their entire future together?” Trrili laughed. “I forgot your species does that.”

“Hey now, that’s a good thing,” I objected. I was interrupted in trying to justify it further by Coals heading for the airlock. Slowly. With all the smugness in the world.

“Told you it was worth it,” he said to Trrili.

“And I told you it was old information,” she retorted. “If that pair hadn’t accomplished historical violence as well as historical mating, we would have wasted all our time.”

“Totally,” Coals enunciated, head held high, “Worth it.”

I shook my head and followed him. “Yeah it was.” Star-crossed ducks were better than nothing.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!