#I want you all to know that this train of thought came out of a day dream where Lilith gets captured Trazyn and starts hissing at Clonegrim

[bunnys-kisses]

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter two - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Corroded Coffin performs their homecoming show in Hawkins, and mistakes are made.

Chapter Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, drunk sex, underage drinking, secret baby

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N:

This next chapter was a long time coming, but I hope you guys enjoy!

—

The rest of the week was a blur. You hadn’t thought of Eddie this much in over a year, and having him thrown back into your consciousness was like opening an old wound. You tried your best to push it out of your mind and keep yourself busy with work and chasing after Asher, but it was fruitless.

Steve and Robin were at your apartment Thursday night, the usual hangout since the three of you shared the night off. Asher was fresh out of his bath, dressed in his pajamas and sitting on the floor showing off his toy trains to Robin, who, to her credit, showed equal enthusiasm even on the 50th time of seeing the same Thomas the Tank Engine.

Steve and Robin had come armed with movies - these weekly hangouts usually turned into movie nights, especially when something new came into Family Video that one of them snatched up. Not that you’d complain.

“Alright, Ash. Time for bed,” you said, although the nearly 2 year old paid you no mind as he picked up Percy, the green train.

“You heard her, buddy. Time for the trains to go back to the station,” Robin said, helping the toddler gather his toys.

Asher pouted, but he helped put the trains in his toy box anyway. Once the toys were cleaned up, you lifted him into your arms, heading into his bedroom. A fresh diaper and a kiss goodnight later, you turned the lights off and slowly closed the door behind you.

Back in the living room, you flopped down on the cheap couch with a deep sigh.

“What’s on your mind, Henderson?” Robin asked, still lounging on the carpet. “You’ve been in your head all week.”

Steve looked at her like she was dumb. “Corroded Coffin?”

Robin rolled her eyes at him. “Are you thinking about going?”

You sighed again, running a hand through your hair to push it out of your face. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Steve looked at you sympathetically. “You know…it might be good. You never got that closure. Even if you just want to go to throw a drink in his face.”

You bit back a grin at the idea. He deserved it, that was for sure. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Do you think you’re going to wonder what if for the rest of your life if you don’t go?”

Steve’s sudden sage words caught you off guard. You hated to admit he was right. After these two years of wondering what you had done wrong to deserve his abandonment, there were definitely still wounds deep inside that never had the chance to heal.

Maybe you did need to see him.

—

Saturday night, with Ash at your mom’s house, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself be talked into this. Dressed in a short black skirt, tight top with a leather jacket over top, you felt like you were looking at your high school self again. Like nothing had ever changed. Like Eddie was going to walk up behind you at any moment and wrap his arms around your waist with a wink and a “Looking good, baby.”

“Ready to go?” Steve asked as you walked back out into your living room. Steve and Robin wouldn’t be blending into the crowd at The Hideout as well as you would, and the idea nearly made you laugh a little.

“I guess so,” you said. “I’m ready for a drink.”

The Hideout really wasn’t much different than you remembered, besides the fact that it was absolutely packed full with a huge line out the door. It was surreal to see so many people wearing Corroded Coffin merch, the crowd absolutely buzzing with excitement.

Inside, you pushed your way through to the bar, Steve and Robin following close behind. You may still be a few months away from 21, but you knew that wouldn’t matter.

“Hey, Chris,” you greeted the bartender with a smile. He hadn’t changed a bit in the past two years.

“Well! Long time no see,” Chris greeted, his face lighting up. He pushed three beers across the bar without having to be asked. “I should have known you’d be here to see your boy play.”

Your boy. You resisted a wince as you passed bottles to Steve and Robin and opened your own, taking a big swig. “Yeah, of course.”

The crowd was intense. It had been a long time since you’d been in this scene - hell, it had been a long time since your nights had been more exciting than an episode of Sesame Street. Visually you fit in, but you still found yourself standing off to the side with your friends rather than joining the crowd of fans.

You downed your beer in no time and ordered another. You were already multiple beers in before the opening act even came on.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, eyeing you as you popped open your fourth beer. “We can leave if you don’t want to do this.”

You shook your head. You were already here, you were going to do this. “I’m good,” you assured him, waving him off. He still eyed you warily, but didn’t push it.

You barely paid any mind to the opening act. Sure, they were good, but you knew what you were waiting for. Your heart thundered wildly in your chest, although the nerves in your stomach were fading with every drink.

When the opening act left the stage, the change in atmosphere was palpable. The crowd began to chant and cheer, and then -

There they were.

Gareth walked out first, drumsticks in hand. You felt your breath catch in your throat - the memories came rushing back. The other guys followed behind, and then finally - Eddie.

Eddie sauntered out with a cocky grin and a hand up in a wave to the crowd, who were screaming so loud you thought your eardrums might burst. Your blood felt like ice, you didn’t think your heart could beat any harder without killing you. He looked like himself, but there was something obviously different. He wore a tight pair of ripped jeans on his long legs, a Metallica tee with the same leather jacket he always wore. You hated how familiar it felt. He carried himself with the confidence of a real rockstar. You supposed that’s what he was now.

He approached the microphone. “Hello, Hawkins,” he drawled, and the cheers somehow grew even louder. A bra flew from the crowd and landed at his feet, and he reached down and picked it up with a chuckle, hanging it on the mic stand. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s good to be back in our hometown,” he continued, that grin still on his face. “You guys made us what we are. We owe it all to you. We couldn’t imagine ending the tour anywhere else.”

The crowd ate up every word. And Eddie looked like he reveled in the attention. He looked so natural on stage. He was living his dream, after all.

As Gareth hit his drum sticks together and the band started their first song, Eddie scanned the crowd. You had felt sure you, Steve, and Robin were far enough into the shadows on the sides that you’d be unnoticeable, but with that magnetism you two had always shared - Eddie’s eyes locked on yours.

He froze. The cocky facade dropped and his mouth parted in shock as you stared at each other. You felt dizzy all of a sudden, like you might pass out. Ever observant, Robin noticed immediately, eyes darting between you and Eddie. He nearly missed the opening line of the song before he jolted back to awareness.

“I need another drink,” you mumbled, pushing through the crowd and back to the bar.

You didn’t slow down on the drinks as the show went on. Eddie was taking shots onstage, like he needed to feel numb just as bad as you did. By the end of their set, Eddie was drunk, yet he still managed to perform perfectly.

“Thank you, Hawkins,” he slurred into the mic as the show ended. “Next round’s on us for everyone!”

That set the crowd even wilder than they had been. The band exited the stage, and you pushed back through the crowd to the bar again, stumbling in your boots as the room tilted around you. You heard Steve calling your name from somewhere behind you, but you lost your friends in the crowd in your pursuit of yet another drink.

“One more on my tab, Chris,” you slurred once you reached the bar.

“Add her whole tab to mine,” an uncomfortably familiar voice came from behind you. “And another round of shots for me and the boys.” You felt chills across your skin as Chris nodded and pushed you another drink before he poured the alcohol into four shot glasses.

You saw his ringed hand reach forward and grab one of the glasses. You slowly turned to meet his eyes as he downed the shot, shooting you a smirk as he smacked it back down on the bar top.

“Well,” he slurred, his eyes just as glassy as your own. “Hello again, beautiful.”

You were so drunk that you didn’t even remember how he hurt you. How he abandoned you. You just saw Eddie, and your heart reached for him through your chest just like it always did.

“Eddie,” you whispered, as if there was nothing else to say.

He kept smirking at you, his large hand landing on your upper back and then sliding down to rest on your hip. His eyes roamed over your outfit, drinking you in hungrily.

You didn’t mind.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his hand squeezing your hip posessively and pulling you closer. Your head spun with the motion, and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from Eddie himself.

“I missed you too,” you admitted, both to him and to yourself.

“Want me to take you home?” he asked, leaning forward, his voice a purr in your ear. It sent goosebumps across your skin.

Even in your drunken haze, you knew you shouldn’t say yes. Eddie had done something truly shitty to you, and you had no intention of forgiving him that quickly, or maybe even at all. But he was just as intoxicating as the large amounts of alcohol in both of your systems, and you found yourself letting him lead you backstage and out the back door.

You were so drunk yourself that you hadn’t even thought about whether Eddie could even drive in his state, but he ushered you into the back of a car with a man already sitting in the driver’s seat before sliding in beside you. His hand rested on your thigh as you told the man the address of your apartment, rising higher and higher until it was teasing under the hem of your skirt.

He pulled you into him as the car started moving. Your lips found each other like they’d never been apart, and he kissed you hungrily, tasting like alcohol and cigarettes, but you didn’t care.

Neither you nor Eddie seemed to care a single bit that there was a stranger in the front seat as an audience to the two of you all over each other. Your apartment wasn’t far from the dive bar, and before you knew it you were stumbling out of the car hand in hand with Eddie, both of you giggling like it was 1985 again and you were just two kids in love.

It took you three attempts to unlock the front door of your apartment, your vision hazy and your brain even fuzzier from the feeling of Eddie’s hands all over you, pushing up your top right there in the hallway while he placed sloppy kisses against your neck and shoulders.

When the door finally opened, you barely had time to kick your boots off and drop your leather jacket before Eddie was pushing you up against the door, slamming it closed. You moaned against his lips as they devoured your own, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately. He pulled your top over your head and dropped it to the floor. Your lipstick was smeared across his face, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“Look so fucking sexy,” Eddie mumbled as he moved in to attach his mouth to your neck, sucking love bites all across the skin. “I’ve thought about you every day.”

You didn’t have the brain power at the moment to process those words. The drinks had already taken all concepts of critical thought, but every moment of Eddie’s mouth and tongue against your neck drowned out coherent thought itself.

His hands lowered from your hips to the back of your bare thighs and he squeezed. You worked in tandem just like old times as you jumped up for him and he gripped your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel how hard he was already through his jeans, pressed up against your core.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked breathlessly, moving back to your lips.

“Last door down the hall,” you mumbled back, and then you were pulled away from the door as he walked down the hall, carrying you like you weighed nothing. He was sloppy, still drunk and knocking into the table in the hall, sending a picture frame falling to the (thankfully carpeted) floor.

He pushed the door open to your bedroom, and seconds later you landed on your back on your soft mattress. Eddie’s eyes were completely glazed over with lust, locked on yours as he kicked his shoes off and started unbuckling his belt. You watched him with equal hunger as he undid his tight jeans and pushed them to the floor, his excitement obvious through the material of his boxers. He leaned over the bed and reached behind you to unzip your skirt, pulling it down your body and leaving you in your bra and panties.

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders and grabbed onto the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it. His body looked the way you remembered it, the familiar lines and curves coming back to you as you roamed your hands over his soft skin like second nature.

“Eddie,” you whined, pushing your hips up against his painfully hard erection. He hissed at the contact, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your chest. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, your nipples quickly pebbling in the cool air. His mouth moved to envelop one of your nipples, his hand attending to the other. He swirled his tongue around it, sucking on your tits as you arched beneath him.

It had been a while for you, honestly.

“Fuck, need you so bad,” he muttered. He sat up on his knees, eyes raking over your body for only a moment before he reached for the hem of your panties. He pulled them down your legs quickly, urgently pushing his boxers down. His hard cock sprang free, already leaking precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, squeezing, another hiss leaving his lips.

He grabbed the backs of your thighs again, spreading your legs and pushing them up towards your chest to take in the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him. He muttered another “Fuck,” under his breath.

He traced a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you, just as sweet as he remembered.

He leaned back over your body, lining himself up at your entrance, not a single thought about protection going through either of your minds. He pushed in quickly, causing your back to arch and a gasp to fall from your lips, fingernails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he stretched you intensely.

“Too big,” you managed to squeak out, which made Eddie chuckle against the skin of your neck.

“You can take it,” he assured you, starting up a slow pace, although it pained him to do so. “You always took it so well.”

It didn’t take long for your body to remember his. The pain faded into pure pleasure within the minute, and then you were moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eddie noticed and picked up the pace of his hips, giving up on being careful and fucking into you with reckless abandon.

High moans spilled from your lips, your eyes falling closed as the feeling of him enveloped you completely. You could think of nothing but the pleasure he was providing with every press of his cockhead against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Even after all this time, he knew exactly how to fuck you.

Eddie’s own grunts and groans were unashamed as he rutted into you with no real rhythm, drunkenly chasing his own release inside you. Somehow through the drunk and lust filled haze, he had the thought to reach down and rub tight circles on your clit, building that tightening feeling in your belly faster and faster.

“G’na cum,” you whined, your pussy tightening around his cock enough to make him moan even louder as he started fucking you even faster.

“Yeah, princess, that’s it, cum on my cock, just like that,” he babbled encouragement, his own release approaching rapidly. “Fuck, yeah, all over my cock baby.”

Your orgasm crashed through you with the power of a fucking train, and your eyes rolled back, body trembling and pussy clenching around him over and over again as you chanted his name, sounding just like all his groupies at the concert.

That’s all Eddie needed to fall over the edge with a hissed “Shit, shit!” and a low groan against your neck as he spilled inside of you, filling you deeply with ropes of his cum.

Once you were both spent, Eddie pulled out of you, rolling off and collapsing on the bed next to you. You both caught your breath. You wondered if you should say something, but the pull of sleep in both of your drunken minds was too strong. It wasn’t long before you heard Eddie’s soft snores, before you were pulled under, too.

—

You were woken up by a pounding at your front door.

Still, your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light filtering through your bedroom windows through the pounding headache already plaguing you. Your heart stopped in your chest when you saw Eddie’s naked form still sleeping next to you.

Fuck, what did you do?

You jumped out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants before walking into the living room before whoever was pounding on the door woke up your entire apartment complex.

You swung open the door, irritated, to find a panicked looking Steve standing there.

“Jesus Christ,” he said when you opened the door. “You just disappeared last night. I thought you got abducted or something.”

The guilt and emotions hit you as the full reality of what you’d done fell on your chest. “Steve…” you started, unsure how to even explain yourself.

“How did you even get home? You just went to the bar and-“ Steve stopped cold, wide eyes trained at something over your shoulder.

Despite the dread in your stomach, you slowly turned, seeing Eddie standing in the hallway behind you, looking sheepish and dressed back in his jeans with no shirt.

“Uh, hey,” he said, a hand running through his curls.

Steve slowly looked back at you. “What the fuck.”

You didn’t even know what to say as you looked between the boys. Eddie looked down at the picture frame on the floor that had been knocked down last night.

“Oh, shit,” he said, almost to himself. He leaned down and picked it up. “I, uh, might have knocked this over-“

He froze. And the second you realized what photo he was looking at, you did, too.

It was Asher. A recent portrait, The toddler sporting a huge gap-toothed grin, his big brown eyes and wild head of curls mirroring the man currently standing in your hallway.

Eddie stared at the photo, completely unmoving. You didn’t even think you were breathing at this point. You could feel Steve’s presence behind you, everyone frozen waiting for someone to make a move.

He finally looked up slowly, eyes meeting yours with questions swirling inside that you didn’t want to answer and he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to.

Eddie said your name softly, fear lacing his voice. “What is this?”

tag list

three of you it wouldn’t let me tag, so if you requested to be on the list and you aren’t here that’s why! i’m sorry :(

@awkward00noodle @american-idiot-jpg @georgeweasleyslostearhq @fandom-princess-forevermore @emxxblog @hopesicle @hellv1ra @whimsiwitchy @avalon-wolf @kellsck @toomuchbucky @sashaphantomhive @losingmygrasponreality @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddiesgirl1944 @ashcal99

[dorabellingham]

Mini Bellingham

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when after fans suspect, you actually find out you're pregnant

may contain spelling and translation errors!

A few weeks after the last wave of rumors that Jude Bellingham was going to be a father, you realized that something was really different. It wasn't just the slight swelling in your shirt, nor the symptoms that you attributed to the fast pace of travel and the crazy routine in Madrid. After a few days of feeling more tired than usual and having some morning sickness, you decided to put the doubt to rest once and for all.

The next morning, you took a pregnancy test from the bathroom, and a few minutes later, the two little lines appeared on the screen, confirming what you didn't even know you were expecting: you were pregnant. The emotion was intense and immediate. You laughed to yourself, tears welling up in surprise, and you stood there, absorbing the feeling of now having a precious and charming secret to share with Jude.

You knew he needed a surprise to match. After all, if the love of your life was going to find out he was going to be a father, it had to be in the most special way possible. You quickly planned a gesture that was symbolic and at the same time very much connected to the dream you both shared. In the following days, you sneaked out to organize everything: a mini-uniform of the English national team with the number ten and the name Bellingham on the back. You thought of every detail and, to make the surprise complete, you put together a kit with the uniform, the pregnancy test and a handwritten letter.

On the weekend, Jude arrived home after a hard training session, without thinking about anything. He was hungry and just wanted to rest. You smiled when you saw him come in distracted, already taking off his boots and adjusting his shirt. As soon as he sat down on the sofa, you approached him smiling and held out a small box with a red bow, which he accepted, confused.

—Is this… a present?

Jude asked, arching an eyebrow with a curious expression. You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement, and shook your head.

—Go on, open it!

You said, with a smile that you could barely contain.

The eldest Bellingham opened the box and, when he pulled off the tissue paper, he came across the small uniform of the English national team. He looked at you with a surprised expression, not fully understanding, until he saw the pregnancy test. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a smile of complete surprise and disbelief.

—Babe…? —He could barely speak, swallowing hard. —Are you… serious?

You nodded, smiling with your eyes full of tears.

—Congratulations, daddy!

You whispered, the words almost coming out like a melody.

He laughed, a surprised laugh, his face hidden in his hands as he processed the news. Emotion took over him, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, long hug, laughing and crying at the same time.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Jude pulled away enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with happiness.

—A mini Bellingham… I can’t believe it! I’m already the luckiest man in the world just to have you, and now… Is this real?

You laughed, wiping a tear from his face.

—It’s real. And you know what’s funny? I think even your fans were already suspicious. But now, only the two of us know.

He looked at the mini-uniform in his hands, turning it over and getting lost in the details.

—I don’t even know how to thank you for giving me the greatest gift in the world, Y/n.

He kissed the top of your head, then brought his hand to your belly, still flat, but which would soon begin to show the first signs of this new phase.

You took the letter, handing it to him.

—There’s one more thing.

He opened the envelope carefully and read, still emotional:

"Dear Jude,

Thank you for being the best partner and the love of my life. I knew I wanted you to be the father of my children from the moment I realized I would do anything to be by your side. Today, I begin a new journey by your side, and I can only imagine how much we will love this baby. Our baby.

Thank you for everything, and thank you for being you. With all my love,

Y/n."

Jude could barely contain his emotion as he finished reading the letter. He looked at you, touched, and simply said.

—I love you more than anything in this world, love. More than I ever thought possible. And now... now there are three of us.

You snuggled into his arms, feeling completely at peace. From that moment on, your world was bigger, more complete, and the wait for that little Bellingham would be the sweetest of all.

[woso-story]

A Shoulder To Lean On

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Alexia Putellas stood in the empty locker room, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights her only company. The echo of her coach’s words still lingered in her mind. “You won’t be making the squad for the game this weekend, Alexia.”

She had expected it. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t ready. Her knee still felt like a ticking time bomb. It wasn’t just the physical pain anymore; it was the mental battle. Every time she planted her foot, her mind flashed back to the moment of injury, the sharp sting, the helplessness. She had worked her entire life for this—everything had been for this moment. But now, standing here, she couldn’t shake the feeling of doubt. The pressure was suffocating.

It wasn’t just about the injury. It was everything. Two Ballon D’Ors, countless trophies with Barcelona, but it never felt like enough. People expected more. She was expected to be the same Alexia she had always been: the unstoppable force, the leader. But in this moment, she was just a woman with a broken knee and a heart full of worry.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. "You’re meant for greatness, Alexia." But her father had never seen her play for Barcelona’s first team. He passed away just two months before her dream came true.

“Everything for him,” she whispered under her breath as she slowly gathered her things.

It wasn’t the game that bothered her, or the squad decision, it was the thought that she might not be able to get back to the level she had once been. That she might not be able to play again. The thought gnawed at her, every day, every moment.

But then there was you.

You, the one person who had been there through it all. The quiet strength beside her, the calm amid the storm. You had been together for over two years, and you weren't involved in football at all. It was a relief. After hours on the pitch, in front of cameras, after facing the demands of the Spanish Football Federation, you were a reminder of something normal, something simple.

Alexia walked into your shared apartment, the familiar scent of lavender filling the air. She saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in hand, a soft smile tugging at your lips when you saw her.

“How was training?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. You could see it in Alexia’s eyes.

Alexia sighed, dropping her bag by the door. “I didn’t make the squad for this weekend’s game.”

You set the cup aside and patted the space beside you on the couch. “I’m sorry. But you’re doing the right thing, Lex. You know that, right?”

Alexia nodded, though the weight of it all was heavy on her chest. She wanted to argue, to say that she was ready, that she could fight through it. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t true. The knee was still fragile, and her mind... her mind was even more fragile.

Without a word, Alexia collapsed into your side, burying her face in your shoulder. And then, something happened that Alexia never expected. She felt the tears start to fall.

The floodgates opened, and all the emotions she had been suppressing poured out. She cried about the pressure, the expectations, the constant feeling that she had to be perfect. She cried about her knee, about the fear that she might never be the player she once was. She cried about her father, about how she had worked so hard to make him proud, only to have him taken from her before he could see her dreams come true.

"I don’t know if I can do it anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “What if I’m not good enough anymore? What if my knee can’t take it? What if I’m letting everyone down?”

You held her, your arms wrapping around her tightly, offering comfort without words. You let her cry, let her release the weight of the world that had been pressing down on her for so long.

“Lex,” you said softly, once the tears had slowed. “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re in this together.”

Alexia sniffled, grateful for your unwavering support. “But I’ve worked my whole life for this. I can’t just... give up.”

“You don’t have to give up,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “You just need to give yourself time. Your knee will heal when it heals. You can’t rush it. And you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s enough.”

Alexia took a deep breath, feeling a little lighter, though the doubts still lingered. You always knew how to calm the storm inside her. You didn’t try to fix everything or offer empty reassurances. You just were there for her—a constant, steady presence, reminding her that it was okay to take a step back.

You stood, reaching out a hand to Alexia. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You need to rest.”

Alexia allowed herself to be led to the bedroom, her body heavy with exhaustion. She lay down on the bed, curling up under the soft blankets. A few minutes later, you returned with a steaming cup of tea and a small sandwich.

“You need to eat,” you said, setting the tray down next to her. “You can’t keep skipping meals.”

Alexia managed a small smile, grateful for the care that you always showed. She took a bite of the sandwich, sipping the tea slowly, feeling the warmth seep into her body.

After she finished, you crawled into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her. Alexia nestled her head into your chest, the rhythmic beat of your heart soothing her racing mind.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Alexia murmured, her voice muffled by your shirt.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied softly, your fingers threading through Alexia’s hair. “I’m always here. Always.”

Alexia’s eyes fluttered shut, the weight of the day still pressing on her, but the comfort of your embrace made it bearable.

As she drifted off to sleep, you kissed the top of her head. “You’re not alone, Lex. We're in this together. And I’ll be right here, no matter what.”

And for the first time in weeks, Alexia allowed herself to believe that things would be okay. She wasn’t alone in this fight.

[emchante]

mistletoe meetings | d. ricciardo

merry smutmas - day 1: mistletoe

warnings: 18+ content, pwp/porn with plot, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), light praise kink, slight cliche fluff part-way through.

w.c. 3.5k

the cold-white christmas lights twinkled against the frosted windows of the cozy chalet, casting a glow over the party inside. the air buzzed with laughter and the occasional sound of a beer cap being popped off the glass bottle. the host had outdone themselves; garlands of greenery lined the mantelpiece, candles flickered on every surface, and the star of the show was the 7ft tall christmas tree. 

admittedly you hadn’t planned to come to the party tonight, but a persuasive friend insisted this would be the christmas party, and you wouldn’t want to miss it. 

the sound of a deep, easy laugh broke your train of thought, and you turned in the direction it came from. a man you hadn’t seen before was leaned against a counter, holding his beer with his other hand, his face glowing with amusement at something the person in front of him had said. his curls framed his face, and his smile was so genuine it seemed to light up the space around him. 

your heart skipped a beat when his gaze suddenly moved onto you. it was brief, nothing major, but it was enough to send a light blush onto your face. you turned your face down, the lip of the bottle suddenly became fascinating. 

“looking at someone?” your friend teased, magically appearing at your side. jesus. 

“no,” you replied a little too quickly, the warmth on your cheeks becoming hotter. 

your friend smirked knowingly at you, “riiight,” she dragged out, rolling her eyes. “well he’s single, but you don’t care about that so..”

the way you perked up wasn’t at all subtle, made obvious by your friend snicker at your reaction. 

before you could tell her off, a burst of gasps came from around the kitchen. you both turned to see two people caught under a mistletoe, looking at each other bewildered. there were cheers, and a few ‘you know the rules!!’ shouted, in case they had tried to walk off. 

it took them a moment, but everyone cheered when the two leaned in to kiss each other. your friendly smiled at the sight, but you rolled your eyes. 

“remind me to avoid that doorway,” you spoke up, causing your friend to give you a gentle nudge as she shook her head. 

“nuh-uh!” she scoffed, winking at you. “it’s a christmas party, and some fun! plus, i think i know someone you’d like to be under it with,” she raised her brows, causing you to glare at her. 

you made a mental note to avoid that doorway at all costs, reminding yourself every time you were near it. 

though as the night wore on, and despite your best efforts to avoid the kitchen, it was almost impossible. especially when your bottle was empty, and you needed another. if you were fast enough, you were sure you’d be able to avoid walking under the mistletoe with someone. 

you continuously looked left and right as you neared the kitchen, making sure nobody was heading for there at the same time as you. however, you were so caught up that you didn’t see the man standing at the entrance of the kitchen. 

“woah there,” a deep voice spoke, holding you by the shoulders after you had walked into his chest. “careful where you’re walking.”

you glanced up startled and— oh, there he was. 

the man from earlier, with the loud laugh and bright smile was right in front of you. and the signature smile was on his face once again, and one could argue it was wider this time. the scent of his cologne filled your nose, captivating you in a trance as you stared up at him. his curls were a little messier now, and his cheeks were a little pinker from his alcohol consumption. 

“sorry! shit, i’m sorry. i clearly wasn’t..“ you started to ramble, but you trailed off when you noticed his gaze wasn’t on you anymore. you followed it up and shit. 

the mistletoe. hanging right above the two of you. 

“oh,” you muttered with a gulp. your eyes moved back to daniel’s face, and he was already looking at you with a light smirk. 

“looks like we’ve got ourselves in a little situation,” he spoke up, one of the hands on your shoulders giving it a squeeze, as the other had his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. 

daniel could see the nervous look in your eyes, and he gave you a wink. “hey, i’m not going to traumatise you with my technique,” he laughed lightly, moving his face closer to your own. as soon as his lips were hovering yours, he muttered a “promise,” before closing the gap. 

the kiss was over quicker than you anticipated, and you couldn’t believe it but— you craved a longer one. his soft, plump lips felt amazing against yours, and the tease of his tongue running against them was a pleasant surprise. 

“see? harmless,” he said, pulling away with a pleased expression. he extended his hand out, with a “the name’s daniel, by the way,” dropping from his lips. 

you shook his hand in return, giving him your name. he repeated it softly with a soft squeeze to your hand before he let go. 

“well, i’ll see you around,” he grinned, nodding before he brushed past you and back into the crowd of the lively party. 

you finally exhaled, not realising you had been holding your breath for so long. 

the next time you saw him, it was almost too coincidental to be true. a cliche, some might say. 

you had moved to a quieter corner of the party, chatting with the friend you had came to the party with. you zoned out of the conversation when daniel entered your vision, a grin on his face as he walked towards you. 

“there you are! my mistletoe buddy,” he laughed, chasing a small giggle to escape you. you seen your friend gawking in your peripheral vision and oops, you hadn’t told her about it. well, at least she knew now. 

“funny seeing you here,” you smiled with a raised brow, and daniel gave you a small shrug. 

“well, i’d say it’s funnier for that guy up there,” he told you, causing you to frown in confusion. you looked up and— shit, really?

another mistletoe. there it was— a fresh sprig of mistletoe hung directly above you. 

“now, you know it’s a tradition,” he winked, making you pout at him. you tried to jest, muttering how traditions were made to be broken, but daniel shook his head. “nope, they’re made to be honoured.”

you rolled your eyes at him, taking a step closer. daniel took a step closer too, his hand moving to cup your cheek, tilting your head up towards him. 

“pucker up, buttercup,” he muttered, making you burst into a fit of giggles as you pulled away. “huh— what?”

“really? pucker up, buttercup?” you laughed, and daniel started laughing along too.

“hey! i’m trying to ease the tension,” he muttered, pulling you back in to him again, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek softly. 

the kiss was a little longer this time, daniel tilting his head after a few seconds to get a better angle, trying to memorise your lips. he cheekily nipped at your bottom lip, a surprised but soft whine escaping you before daniel pulled away. he didn’t pull away fully though, leaning in and placing a chaste peck on your lips before stepping back. 

“well, you know what they say,” he says as he licks his lips, eyeing you up. you tilt your head, beckoning him to go on. 

“third time’s the charm, right?” he winks, taking a few steps back. “and lucky for you, three’s my lucky number,” he finished, before doing a 180 and delving back into the crowd. 

“so, when were you going to tell me about this?” your friend exclaims, after struggling to stay silent the full time. 

and then, it wasn’t long before fate— or the host’s mischievous decorations— brought you together again. admittedly you were trying to leave the party unnoticed, slipping into the back hallway towards the coat rack, when daniel rounded the corner. 

“going somewhere?” he asked, causing you to jump on the spot, head turning to him. you let out an exhale when you seeing it was only him, your body becoming less tense. 

“well i was— shit nevermind,” you mumble, knowing there was no point lying now you were caught. “it’s getting late, i was going to head.”

“well, not before one last kiss i’d hope,” he let out, voice pitching up at the end. you looked up and your body slumped when you seen the mistletoe above you, again.  

“how does this keep happening?” you ask,  half laughing but half seriously asking— because how?

“hey, i told you three was my lucky number. maybe the universe wants to show you,” he teased, walking to your side. 

you bit your lip at how close he got so quickly, his cologne once again filling your nostrils and hypnotising you with thoughts of daniel and only daniel. 

“maybe.. maybe it is,” you mumbled, taking one more step before there was no more space. your noses were right in front of one another, and you could feel daniel’s hot breath against you. his gaze flicked to your mouth before returning back to your eyes. 

“will you let me show you?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. you didn’t even respond, closing the gap between you both instantly. 

this kiss wasn’t short or playful like the other two had been, this one was different. this one truly meant something. it deepened quickly, daniel’s hand moving to your waist as he pulled your front against his own. you lost yourself in the kiss, his lips moving against yours with such ease and confidence that your knees started to feel weak. 

when you finally pulled apart, daniel’s head rested gently upon your own, his breath warm against your cheek. 

“don’t leave yet,” he muttered, his voice husky. “stay, and i’ll show you a good time. i know you haven’t had one tonight,” he finished, licking his lips. 

you pondered for a few moments, before you gave in and nodded. “okay, okay. i’ll stay,” you agreed, cheeks heating up at the smile he gave you. 

“let’s start with getting out this hallway, hm?” he winked, reaching out for your hand and taking it. 

daniel guided you further into the back, head dipping into rooms to make sure they weren’t already occupied. thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to find a free room, and he stood to the side to allow you to enter first. 

“much better,” he mumbled, locking the bedroom door before turning round to see you. you were perched on the end of the bed, staring up at him and keeping your gaze on him as he slowly stalked towards you. 

daniel’s hand moved to your hair, gently pushing it back, with a little force so that your head tilted back along with it. “you’re gorgeous,” he broke the silence, causing your cheeks to blossom with warmth. “i wasn’t expecting to meet anyone here tonight, and then i bumped into you. and admittedly, i was hoping we’d keep meeting under that mistletoe.”

you giggled and shook your head, moving your head to the side, but daniel’s hand slid down to catch you by the cheek, making you look at him. “don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he let out quietly. 

daniel’s thumb brushed against your cheek again, the touch warm and deliberate. his eyes searched yours momentarily, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch. slowly, he leaned in so his lips were hovering your own. 

when he kissed you, it was soft and unhurried, now that he finally had you to himself. his lips moved against yours with gentle confidence, his hand still cradling your cheek as he did so. you melted into him, your hands finding their way to the fabric of his sweater, curling into the wooly fabric as you pulled him closer. 

“you’re incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his words making your cheeks burn hotter. his other hand slid to your ass, sliding his arm under to lift you further up onto the bed. the pressure of his lips and the way his tongue teased you sent heat right to your core. 

as your bodies grew closer, the world outside the room disappeared entirely. there was nobody else, no christmas party— just daniel. just daniel with his scratchy stubble, warm hands, and his soft, heart-shaped lips. 

when you pulled back for the first time, you moved so your head was against the pillows, titled right back. daniel moved accordingly. legs at either side of you as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“i can’t stop looking at you,” he admitted lowly, eyes mapping your body. “you’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

his words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, but that wasn’t the only reason. daniel moved onto your neck now that you had given him easy access, placing wet kisses all against your skin.  your eyes fluttered shut, soft breathe escaping you as he continued to give your neck the attention it needed. 

his hands trailed down your body slowly, fingers running in different directions before they all ended at the same destination; the hem of your sweater. daniel placed one last kiss to your neck before he pulled back, and you tilted your head round to see him. 

“can i?” he asked softly, gently tugging on the hem to give you an idea on what he was talking about. you agreed of course, nodding as you lifted your arms up, allowing daniel to get your sweater off with ease. 

his eyes raked over you, resting on your chest for the most part but they trailed down your stomach, eyeing the clothed area that was his final goal. he placed a soft kiss on your stomach, before leaving a trail of them upwards and the final one was placed upon your sternum. 

suddenly, his hands were on each of your breasts, pushing them closer to his face as he littered kisses over each of them. he started with your right, soft lips running over it as he placed the lightest kisses over your skin, moving up towards your nipple before he placed a soft, teasing kiss atop it, moving to your left breast. 

you shined whined out at the light tease, but you had no reason to fear, as he took a different approach with your left breast. the kisses were a little harsher, there were more biting this time around, and when he trailed his tongue up to your nipple, he swirled his tongue around it in a circle before sucking on it gently. 

the moan you let out in return was satisfying enough for him, and he pulled back to watch your flushed face. his hands squeezed your breasts softly, and daniel admired you as you writhed at the pleasure that coursed through your body. 

“perfect.. you’re so perfect,” he told you, thumbs running across your hardened nipples gently. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding from me all my life.”

you flushed at the praise, but tried to distract yourself with helping daniel pull off his own sweater. it took a moment to get off his head, his curls bouncing around from the roughhousing which made you both giggle. you only had a short moment to admire his chest, and eye his prominent happy trail before daniel’s lips were back on yours. 

daniel unloosened his belt, throwing it off to the side as he slid his trousers off, and while he done that you got your bottom half undressed too. when you both met again face-to-face on the bed, you were both stark naked, yet your eyes were still glued to each other. 

he moved closer, his nose rubbing against your own before he placed a soft kiss against your lips. “i want to make you feel so good, sweetheart.”

your hands moved to his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging them gently. his lips landed on yours again, kissing you softly, delicately— as if you’d break, otherwise. 

“i need you danny,” you mutter as you pull away, giving him a pleading look. “please make me feel good,” you tell him, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

daniel doesn’t need to be told twice, positioning his cock so that his tip was nudging at your entrance. he looked up to you, one last time to silently ask ‘is this okay?’ and when you nodded, he was given the go ahead. 

daniel pushed himself into you slowly, stretching you out on his thick cock. you couldn’t help the string of moans that escaped you as he pushed further into you, filling you up with just him. 

his eyes wondered to yours, light worry sparking in them. “you alright?” he asks, waiting until you reply before he dares to move. 

it takes you a moment as you gulp before letting out a deep exhale through your nose, trying to get used to his size. “yeah i’m… i’m okay,” you confirm, giving him a soft smile to reassure him. 

daniel began to move slowly, but not in a teasing way— moreso in a way to make sure you were alright, and could get used to his size at a steady pace. daniel’s head fell forward, forehead resting against yours as he thrusted in and out of you. 

your whines and pants only spurred him on, and he had to hold himself back from going faster. you could tell he was holding back too, so you grabbed his face to pull him in for a kiss. “please danny, move faster,” you asked desperately, and how could he deny you?

daniel done so as soon as the words left your mouth, speeding up his pace just like you requested. daniel couldn’t stop himself from moving his head back to your neck, kissing over the skin as he breathed in your intoxicating scent. he groaned lowly after he inhaled, teeth sinking into the skin of your neck. 

“you— fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters into your neck, nose pressed deeply against it as if he was entranced by the scent of you. “and you’re so beautiful. you’re perfect, and i can’t believe we just met,” he continues, kissing your neck and trailing it up your chin, moving to place a passionate kiss on your lips. “got so much lost time to make up on baby, and i’m going to be in you for most of it.”

daniel’s words were hypnotising, the deep grumble of his low accented voice, as well as the power of his words had you inching closer to the edge. you thrusted your hips up against him, desperate to feel more of him— all of him. 

“please danny— shit.. need you, need this,” you plead, arms moving around his shoulders so your nails could scrape down his tanned, toned back. 

“come on then sweetheart,” he encouraged you, forehead resting against yours again as he started to thrust into you faster, feeling himself get closer too. “finish for me, show me how much tonight has meant to you,” he whispered, lips crashing onto yours one last time before your orgasm came coursing through you. 

your body trembled as you couldn’t do anything but moan, and whine out daniel’s name. your hips continued to buck up as you rode out your orgasm, and that only pushed daniel towards his own. the movements, the sight of you, the pleas falling from your mouth— it was all too much for daniel to keep it together. 

daniel is a smart man, he pulls out just before the coil snaps for him. his hand wraps around his aching, bright red cock, stroking it up and down to help him with his orgasm. you’re still in a daze from your own, but through hooded eyes you watch daniel rutting into his own hand, head tiled right back as the cum came out of his cock, slicking up his hand just nicely. 

after daniel’s was over, he slumped forward and fell onto the bed beside you. he turned to you, admiring you despite the flushed cheeks, messy hair and panting chest. he moved his hand— the clean one, obviously— up to your face, pulling you in to give you one last soft kiss. 

“you’re absolutely amazing sweetheart,” he told you again, voice hoarse from the noises he had been making just moments before. “and i’m serious when i say i want to see you again, and make up for lost time. i’m drawn to you baby, won’t be able to stop thinking about you.”

you giggle at daniel’s words, nodding and moving your face to kiss the palm of his hand that held your cheek. 

“i’d like that too, danny.”

smutmas taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart <3

[ohithankyou]

decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.

note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations

buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:

[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]

abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”

buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”

abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”

[when buck is dropping her to the airport]

abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"

buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."

abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."

buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"

abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"

buck: "you, too, abby."

buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:

[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]

abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”

buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”

abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”

buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”

abby: “yeah.”

buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”

—

buck and ali, 2x18:

[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]

ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”

buck: “exactly.”

ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”

buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”

ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”

buck: “…who you are.”

ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”

—

buck and taylor, 5x18:

[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]

taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”

buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”

taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”

buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”

taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”

buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”

taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”

buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”

taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”

buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”

taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”

buck: “yeah. just not together.”

—

buck and tommy, 8x06:

[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]

buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."

tommy: "i wasn't always that way."

buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."

buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"

tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."

buck: "and why not?"

tommy: "because, i know how this ends."

buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"

tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."

buck: "what are you saying?"

tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."

buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."

tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."

tommy: "i should go."

buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"

tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."

[corasexigence]

Intox Play Primer

Vet for high risk play. If you don't have the utmost trust in someone, control what you're putting in your own body and know where it all came from.

Check for interactions. Yes, this means sharing complete information about whatever medications the person getting drugged is on. No, the interactions are not always intuitive. Yes, this includes things like alcohol. Ideally, ask your doctor about interactions with whatever you're about to play with- they're trained in spotting interactions, you're probably not. (ETA- @vekarin-striae mentioned that pharmacists are often cheaper, more specialized, and less invasive to talk to about drug interactions.)

If you've checked the interactions yourself, assume you might have missed something. Even if you've gotten your doctor to check, be aware they might have missed something. I once caught a potassium deficiency issue in someone's existing medication that their doctor prescribed them.

ROUND 1- Use it for its own sake before you play with it. Spend the time together and set yourself up for success: easy access to food, water, comfort media, and comfortable places to sit and lie down. Know how long it should last. Get someone who's used it before to tripsit if you can. Don't give yourself any tasks that involve new skills. Be ready to offer yourself or your partner a redirect from negative or anxious trains of thought.

Know what a good time on your drug physically looks and feels like. This is crucial, because things might go sideways in a way you're not expecting. Don't just be watching for specific signs of an overdose (though those are worth keeping in mind too)- if something seems wrong, get help. Seconds matter and you're probably not a professional.

Similarly: if the drug is at all sedative, or a downer, or long-lasting, and they're unconscious before it's out of their system, check for breathing and check for pulse. Also, your risk profile is your own, but I don't fuck around with hard sedatives- there's too fine a line between which body systems they shut down.

Start with a low-to-standard dose, and adjust doses for any relevant interactions (e.g. estradiol approximately halves liver tolerance [alcohol, weed, diphenhydramine], SSRIs approximately double psychedelic tolerance).

In order to avoid dependence issues, I wait a default of two weeks between recreational uses of any drug. (I only count caffeine here if I'm having more than two cups of tea in a day.)

ROUND 2- Play with it scripted and above board before you play with it in an explicitly cnc way. Your communication and mental state will have shifted, and you'll need to learn to accommodate that; make sure you try things out without added communication barriers first. Also, make sure to talk about how everything went afterwards when you're both sober!

If you're going to adjust doses, do it slowly and carefully. Most easily accessible recreational drugs can be incremented by half the standard dose. Some drugs are incredibly sensitive to fine adjustments; this is why Fentanyl, for example, is so dangerous and not recommended to use.

ROUND 3- Don't get comfortable. Try to have as peaceful and relaxed an experience as you want, and keep an eye on things as you play with different emotional states- but DEFINITELY continue to keep an eye on safety. It doesn't stop being a concern because you've done it once and everything went fine.

ETA- Mind how drugs affect things like pain tolerance! You might miss important signals from your body. Also, pay attention to overlap with your neurotype when planning and risk profiling. You might desire or achieve different effects depending on your own specific brain.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 21. Show Me

Summary: After rushing from the training hall, Dahlia is left alone to her thoughts. Or so she thinks.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

I had no idea how I ended up here. Just letting my feet carry me to wherever they lead me. Which apparently was the top of one of the towers of the Quadrant. It clearly wasn’t used much, but it must have been a place someone came to as there were some footsteps in the dust in the stairwell.

I’m sure the view was beautiful, but all I could do was stare down at my hands, the memory replaying in my head over and over again. The scream echoing loudly in my head over, and over again. I’d barely had my signet a day and it was already a shit show just like the rest of my life. Just when life was starting to be good for once. I was making friends, didn’t have to deal with the constant disappointed looks of my father and brother. I was actually living my life. Now I doubted anyone would want anything to do with me after that.

They must have developed a signet like I had recently. Emetterio knew of my signet after last night, knew it wasn’t entirely safe for me to touch anyone except Bodhi really. His signet was the only one I could trust in my hands. But clearly the other cadet had manifested one without realising. And I’d thrown it back at them without even realising and caused everyone in the Quadrant to look on in horror as they screamed and screamed. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to block the memory from my mind, but it does nothing. The scream still echoing loudly in my ears.

I startle as the door next to me opens. I half expect to see Xaden who I knew had tried to follow me out. And at first I think it is him with how tall the person is, but as they fully step through the door, it’s the last person I expect to see. They shut the door behind them before walking over and lowering themselves to the ground as they lean up against the ledge with me, legs sprawled out in front of them. I look up at them to see them staring down at my hands. I’d only ever seen him glare or tease me, so the worried way he looks at my hands is new to me. A softer look to their features I’ve not seen before, as if they were relaxed despite the worry. And I hated to say how much I liked it.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, an almost pained tone to their voice.

I look at him confused, unsure why he’s apologising to me. “Sorry? Why are you sorry Garrick?”

His shifts his gaze to look at me, and I can see the pain in his hazel eyes. I can see how sorry he is, as if he feels like this is his fault. But there’s something more there. I know the look in his eyes isn’t just to do with what happened to me.

“I’m sorry, because the signet you replicated was mine.” He confesses, averting his gaze as he leans his head back against the stone ledge, looking up at the roof.

I stare at him in disbelief. One because I’d been so adamant I’d replicated the cadet I’d been up against. And two…. Because this was a side of him I had never seen. Not once in my months here had I seen him be anything but the arrogant lumbering oaf I’d assumed him to be. Didn’t think he cared about anyone but himself and the few he kept close. But I can see how worried he is. How bad he feels. There’s no way this is an act. Especially when I lower my gaze and note a slight shake to his hands. I almost want to reach out and grasp them in mine, but after what’s happened I doubt he’d let me. And I internally kick myself for wanting to do so. Just because he feels sorry for me and what’s happened, doesn’t mean he won’t go back to treating me any different once tomorrow comes. Just like my brother and father.

“The same thing happened to me.” He starts, his gaze still set on the roof. “We were doing training while challenges were on hold. Only a few squads were with us. And I had no idea my signet had manifested.” He pauses, taking a deep breath before looking down at his own hands. “We were doing hand to hand combat and at first it was fine. Both of us landing hits on each other without any issue. But as it went on and got more and more intense, I felt something shift in me. Something had changed. And as I pinned them beneath me, their screams echoed around the room as they writhed in pain beneath me.”

Garrick squeezes his fists shut, the tremble now more emphasised due to it. As I look at him I realise what had happened today was almost a copy and paste of what had happened to him last year. No doubt reliving the memory as the screams had echoed around the training room, watching as I pinned them to the ground in a similar manner. Not only was I shaken, but Garrick was to.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

He turns his head and lightly laughs. “The last thing you need to be is sorry. You did nothing wrong.”

I shake my head. “But I did. I didn’t think. I should have thought about what could happen when I touched your arm. But I didn’t. I didn’t think and now I’ve probably traumatised some poor cadet, and you.” I ramble, finally breaking free of the slump I was in. “Everyone probably thinks I’m a freak.”

He chuckles lightly, my eyes narrowing at him as I glare at him slightly. “Aww you care about me. How sweet.”

I huff and push off the ground, “And there it is. Sorry for trying to be nice.” I snap as I go to storm off.

I barely take a step before his hand grasps my arm halting me in my tracks. I try to pull my arm free, not wanting to accidentally hurt him but he just grips my arm tighter.

“I’m not trying to be an ass. Just thought a joke might make you feel better.” He states bluntly as he stares down at me.

The last time I’d been this close was in the hallway the day after threshing, and I’d forgotten just how tall Garrick truly was as I crane my neck to look up at him. And just like last time, being this close to him affects me more than it should.

“It doesn’t matter, as soon as we walk out of here you’ll go back to hating me and treating me like you normally do.” I say as I try to loosen my arm from his grip.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t hate you Dahlia.”

I freeze at his words. In all the months I’d been here, not once had he used my name. Always calling me little Aetos, or some other colourful word. Never by my actual name. And I hated how it caught me off guard. Hated how much I liked it coming from him.

He releases my arm, clearly satisfied I won’t storm off anymore. “At the start, yeah I did. But I’ve realised I never hated you. I hated your name. Your last name. Who I thought you were. Who your father is. And dare I say, I was wrong about you.”

“Is this you trying to apologise?” I ask, staring at him like he’s gone crazy.

Cause clearly he had. Or maybe I had. Maybe I’d been knocked out on that mat and this was just a dream. There was no way these words were coming from Garrick. Garrick who despised me from the moment I stepped off the parapet and he knew my…. My name. I’d barely looked at him but there was no hate in his eyes the first time I’d looked at him. He looked curious and amused as I’d tried to avoid giving my name to him and Xaden. But the moment Dain had uttered my last name, it had changed. Every time he’d looked at me since then there had been hate in his eyes. Until now. And I hated to admit that now as I looked up at him, there was none of that there. For once Garrick Tavis was looking at me like he didn’t hate me.

“I can retract it if you want? But yes, this is me saying that maybe I was wrong about jumping to conclusions about you based off a name.” He admits with a shrug, clearly trying to play it casual.

“You aren’t doing this because you feel bad about the whole signet thing?” I ask, still not sure what he’s saying is true.

“I won’t deny I feel extremely bad about what happened. But it’s not why I’m doing this. And I get if you don’t believe a single word I’m saying to you right now. Just felt like right now was the only time you would listen to me.”

He wasn’t wrong though. As he’d joined me up here I’d let him. I hadn’t scoffed and moved on time I usually would, hadn’t made a smart ass comment to him. I’d watched and let him sit next to me and talk to me properly. Too caught up in what had happened to care. And honestly, I’d wanted to company despite running off.

I walk over to the ledge, looking out over the Quadrant as I think over his words. Despite everything something deep down told me to accept his apology and put all this behind us. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I want to suddenly forgive him and move on? Maybe Bodhi’s insistence I give him a chance had finally worn me down.

“Ok. “ I utter, turning to look at him. “I’m not fully forgiving you. But I’m giving you a chance Tavis. As they say, actions speak louder than words.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal

[astronicht]

i loved the sort of gritty but beautiful realism of tavullia radio + was seeing your marc and alex siblinghood thoughts earlier today, and i was wondering if you had any thought about how you would explore the brothers marquez dynamic or any moment between them in the tavullia radio universe or like, in that style...

Thank youuuu <3 <3 More tavullia radio! I love this verse haha. Follows directly from here, but can be read alone. CW for some nausea i guess.

“No, I don’t know,” Marc says into the phone. He is drinking a warm cola because some old man seems to have once told Valentino that that is good for an upset stomach. “Do they have Buscapidol here?”

“Hold on, I’ll look it up,” Alex says down the line, fuzzy through his shit airpods. They’re not facetiming because Marc has had enough being looked at today. The ranch on a silent Sunday is a strange place to be ill. The ranch building itself, the old farmhouse part, is homey, but if you go out into the repurposed barn it’s all white linoleum and rows of bikes, stacks of merchandise, receipts on the floor of the shipping station.

“I don’t think so,” Alex is saying apologetically. “But I guess it’s just peppermint oil. Does he have peppermint oil?”

“I don’t know. It’s Sunday, is anything even open here?”

“You’re thinking of Austria. The pharmacy should be open, just limited hours,” Alex said. “Maybe you can just order Buscapidol, like, overnight it?”

Marc burped.

“Gross,” Alex added.

“It’s just the cola making me burp,” Marc complained. “He gave me warm cola.”

Alex seemed to pause. There was shuffling on the other end of the line, and the sound of Alex closing their medicine cabinet, where he had been reading off names of things because Marc couldn’t remember what he usually wanted: Toshedra syrup, Diarfin Flas, Voltadol — no, it’s the dressing, Marc — Cola de Caballo, Ibudol, three different types of Dolovanz Forte next to the prescriptions.

“Cola?” he said, “Like soda?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it helping?”

“Yeah,” Marc said thoughtfully, and burped again.

“I’ll start burping at you too,” Alex threatened.

“Hey, I’m sick,” Marc said.

“Is it….”

“It’s okay, yeah. It’s really quiet here when no one is around. Or—no, someone’s in the yard, I think. Looks like Franky?”

He leans forward and squints out the window. The movement doesn’t throw him back into nausea, which is very nice.

“Are you outside?” Alex asks, surprised.

“No, the living room. There’s a fireplace.” He’d been worried that the smell would set him off, but the cola seems to be helping with that too. “Want me to say hi to Franky for you?”

He hears Alex swallow. “Nah, don’t get up,” he says. “Where is he?”

“Franky?”

“No.”

Marc leans back on the sofa, sighs, eyes closed. “I told him I wanted an hour in the quiet. He gave me the house for it, I guess.”

Alex almost laughs, though Marc's not sure at which part. Small win.

“You know, this was a pretty weird call to get,” Alex says, not bothering to be very faux-casual about it.

“Uh huh,” Marc grunts, pretty sure where this is going. He looks out the window again. Franky is pulling along one of the training bikes, gesturing at something that is wrong with it. Maybe the front suspension. Presumably, around the windy corner of the house is Valentino, talking back. The house is quiet, settling. For a room designed to cater to something like forty teenage boys, this corner sofa by the fireplace is pretty nice.

“Because I thought you were still doing filming in—”

“Yes, yes, I just came for a few days. I was supposed to fly back tonight.”

A pause. It’s a relief, actually, to clear the air a little.

“Ask at the pharmacy if they have any peppermint drops or whatever. That’s all Buscapidol is,” Alex tells him. He is not exactly forgiven.

“It’s not the same,” Marc says, listening to Alex wander through rooms of their house, shutting doors.

“Better yet, tell him to go get it,” Alex says. “And when you get back, open your mail, Jesus—” the sound of scattered packages on the kitchen island. “Yeah, once he’s done giving you cola and the house or whatever.”

“Yes, yes,” Marc says, laughing. He doesn’t feel so good. Probably time to go hide in Valentino’s bathroom again. “Okay, I should go.”

“Okay,” Alex says, “Okay, okay—don’t forget about the mail.” The call cuts.

[mc-lukanette]

Thanks. I should be there in five minutes.

The reply came a few seconds later.

Okay! I'll keep an ear out for you!

Near the end of those five minutes, Luka was still dashing down the sidewalk, mentally cursing himself for daring to almost be late. They didn't have any particular plans and he'd only really said it as a guess that didn't mean much, but he could just imagine Marinette standing by the door with her hearing trained intensely on it.

It would've been cute if he wouldn't have felt bad for it.

He knew it wasn't technically his fault. He'd nearly been recognized and she tended to be his safe place to go to, but then most of the detours he knew of had him running into more risk. Hiding his hair and the lower half of his face apparently weren't enough anymore to stop people from doing a double take at him.

Maybe he'd been in this place for too long on his break, but she was there. He simply didn't want to leave, not if it meant losing the "rock star's safe haven," as he called it in his head.

Footsteps still pounding as he ran, he was within arm's reach of the door when it flew open. Without a word, he slipped inside and Marinette shut it behind him. He let himself breathe, pushing his hood up and pulling his face mask down.

Sighing in relief, he said, “You're a lifesaver, as always,”

She laughed him off. “You don't have to go that far.”

“But I do,” he replied. “You're risking a lot letting me hide here. If anyone finds out you're doing it—”

“Stop.“ She raised a hand, turning her face away from him with a faint blush. “It's really not a big deal.”

He pouted a bit, but let the praise go for the time being. He understood, on some level, that she'd done it before for other famous people she knew (the people he'd have to thank if he ever met them, since it led to him meeting her), but it didn't make it any less special.

Not to him, anyway.

Marinette, strolling across the room and waving a hand at all the seating in the living room, asked without looking back at him, “You want any snacks?”

Any kind of food sounded good after the running he did. “Please. Anything's fine.”

As she left the room, he went and plopped himself down on the recliner, going about removing the hoodie he'd been using to keep himself hidden. He also took off the face mask entirely and set them both neatly on the table.

She returned from the kitchen a moment later, tossing a bag of chips at him and sitting down on the couch with one of her own. She popped it open, then hesitated before asking him, “Do you like soup?”

He nodded impulsively, though he honestly was neutral to it overall. “Why?”

“I was gonna make some later, and I—” She made an unreadable gesture. “—I bought too many ingredients when I was at the store, so there'd be leftovers if you didn't have any.”

Huh. Luka didn't doubt that she could've made a mistake on her mental shopping list, but more of all of her ingredients sounded too odd to be a mistake. He could've sworn as well that she'd told him how much she didn't like leftovers, back when she'd ramble about her creative process and forcing herself to take a break by cooking or baking something everyday.

Unless, of course, Marinette had intentionally prepared to make more because of him, in which case he wasn't lying anymore about liking soup.; it just so happened to have shot up on his list of appealing foods all of a sudden.

“We can't have that,” he said with a grin, opening the chip bag in his hands. “Do you mind me staying that long?”

“Not at all!” she insisted. She dug into her own bag and pulled out a single chip, telling him before she put it in her mouth, “Besides, I want to catch up. Have you come up with any new music?”

“No—” He caught himself, realizing it was the instinctive answer he'd been giving to anyone involved with his rock star life, then corrected to, “Nothing I want out there.”

“Oh.” She leaned back, thoughtful. “I get it. Sometimes I make something just for me without wanting to put it out there. I didn't know it worked the same for music.”

He tried not to be obvious about the hearts in his eyes he was throwing her way. She just got him so easily and he did the same for her. He didn't have that many creative people in his life, but even those he did have saw creativity as something so casual. He cared dearly for his sister's wife, for example, yet knew that the finer nuances of creating things went over her head.

Marinette hummed, somewhat disconcerted. “You're not in any... trouble, are you?” She pouted, twisting a corner of the chip bag to the point it formed wrinkles. “I know how much people think we can just rush the process.”

He smiled, appreciating the concern, and shrugged at her. ”They do want me to get back out there, but I'm not going to force it.”

There was a flicker of what he was fairly sure was disappointment in her eyes when he mentioned touring again. He didn't comment on it, but silently hoped he'd caught it correctly and it wasn't just him.

Reaching into his bag for a few chips, he took one between his lips and tipped his head back, opening his mouth to send the chip fully in from the momentum. He chewed, swallowed, then gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Or maybe I'll just retire.”

“Wha—?” Marinette was so shocked that her tightened grip on the bag audibly crushed a couple of poor chips. “Retire?”

Luka had never said it aloud to anyone before, but he had been thinking about it for a few months now. At first, it was more like a joke to himself, an amusing musing on if he did quit and how much chaos that would've spread across the world from the suddenness of it. Then, it became more serious the more he joked about it, thinking about how free he would be and how much he wouldn't have to wither away like whenever he was forced to make something he genuinely wasn't invested in. He thought it would be easier when he initially started out, that he could just create and wouldn't have to bear witness to parts of himself he didn't like.

In what should've been obvious to him, it hadn't ended up that way. He glanced over to check Marinette's reaction and, rather than any displeasure with the idea, she appeared sad for him.

“I didn't know it was that bad,” she admitted. “I thought you just didn't like people recognizing you in your off time.”

“I don't, but it's everything else too,” he explained. Giving her a reassuring smile, he added, “And you couldn't have known. I've never told anyone else before.”

Her cheeks turned to his favorite shade of pink. She averted her eyes to her chips, taking another couple into her mouth and chewing them as she thought over what he'd said. Letting out a small, puzzled noise in the back of her throat, she finally asked the obvious, “Why haven't you yet? Retired, I mean.”

He'd finished the other chips in his hand by then and set the bag aside to focus fully on her. “I... don't have that many places to go. I live on my own, so it'd be hard to not go out. I'd just get recognized all over again, and my sister's famous and married, so I can't stay with her while I wait for everything to die down.”

As much as he would've liked it to be simple, it wasn't. Also, while he wouldn't have told Marinette as much directly, he wouldn't have wanted to give up on their time together. It might've been a little selfish of him, but—

“What if you stayed with me?” she blurted out, turning her body and leaning onto the arm of the couch to face him.

He opened his mouth, almost instantly saying “yes,” but stopped himself to ask, “...What?”

She pushed against the couch with the hand not holding her bag of chips, straightening herself back up and awkwardly elaborating, “Because—well, you already come here? It's already safe, and if you were okay with it then why not, right? I won't bring anyone here either, so...”

“Wait,” he interrupted because, as fast as his heart was pounding at the opportunity, he wouldn't dare risk holding her back in any way. “I don't want you to stop yourself from bringing someone home just for my sake.”

“Huh?” She blinked at him, as if he'd somehow misunderstood whatever she'd been trying to say. Then, wide-eyed and blushing deeper, she shook her head. “No, it's—I meant... I'm not going to bring anyone anyway. That's why it's alright.”

A beat of silence passed between the both of them. Luka knew from all the little moments when Marinette had spoken about romance that she wasn't aromantic, nor had she ever talked about giving up on love entirely, yet she seemed certain that he wasn't going to end up as a third wheel in her house.

He considered asking, considered multiple possibilities without assuming anything specifically, but she bounced up from the couch before he could get anything out.

“O-oh wow! I should really get started on that soup and, ah—don't worry, you don't have to give me an answer right now!” She turned away swiftly, took a few steps, then paused and looked at the chip bag in her hand. Without glancing back, she tossed the bag towards him and offered, “You can finish that if you want.”

He caught it with both hands and watched her go. After she'd disappeared from his view and into the kitchen, he let his eyes drop to the bag, seeing the chips and the crumbled pieces from when she'd gripped it earlier.

Despite that, his own bag didn't look as appetizing anymore, so he plucked a single, broken chip and slipped it between his lips. His mind was already conjuring scenarios in his head without any effort on his part, imagining what it might be like if he actually lived with her instead of just visiting.

He could still make money with music so long as he could do it without showing his face, thus there wasn't much worry about not being able to pay for his staying there. He was certain that Marinette would give him the guest room, and then they'd end up spending their mornings together. He could find ways to lessen her stress or help out around the house, and he would be there whenever she came home after going out.

To say it was tempting was an understatement. Even the clamor of pots, pans, and the openings of the fridge and cupboards as she shuffled about for her ingredients was like music to his ears.

Swallowing the half chip and finding that it suddenly tasted sweet going down, he thought to himself, No excuse anymore, Couffaine.

[lanaroff]

Unwanted- Part 4

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Y/N is an enhanced SHIELD agent who is forced to work with the Avengers. What happens when they discover that she’s not alone?

A/N: Two in a row! Enjoy.- Lana

After a long conversation with Natasha, you came to terms with the fact that sooner or later you would end up having to talk to the team. You didn't trust them, and they didn't trust you either. And as long as you wanted to bring Hydra down, you needed to play by the rules. Even If it meant telling the team personal information about yourself.

However that was not the only thing in your mind. Another redhead was keeping your mind busy. You hadn't seen Wanda since you left her in the medical area. You had no idea of her status or if she even wanted to see you. But you decided that you should find it out for yourself.

And so you did. While waking the compound halls you thought of the reason behind your actions. Why did you suddenly cared for someone's health? If it came to Natasha, would you check on her? But before you could turn back you were standing next to Wanda's bedroom door. You knocked tree times, cursing yourself for doing so, but waiting for Wanda to open the door.

"Come in" You heard from inside the room, and immediately pushed the door and walked inside.

"Uhm... I wanted to check on you. How is your leg?" You nervously said. Truth was that you had spend so much time hating any kind of human interaction, that you had become unable to talk about anything that did not included killing someone.

"Y/N! Hi." Wanda quickly replied as she sat properly on her bed. "The leg is fine, thanks for asking. It doesn't hurt that much."

"Great... That's good, I guess." You said. It was clear to Wanda that the girl in front of her was struggling to keep te conversation floating. It was hilarious and a little bit adorable, she thought to herself.

To Wanda, all that you were doing was trying to pretend that you were tough by being cold and distant. When in reality you were another lost soul who had no one and was scared to be vulnerable. And Wanda felt a sense of familiarity in your behavior.

"I should probably get going, it's late and you need to rest. Good night Wanda." You continued.

"Yeah... Good night Y/N." The redhead replied and watched as you abandoned the room.

After leaving the girl's room, you walked through the compound's floors. You had no destination, but you enjoyed the walk anyways. The compound was empty, the avengers either were sleeping or in their own rooms. No one was there to ask questions or to annoy you in any way. Being all day inside your room was not healthy, and you definitely needed a change of scenery.

It wasn't until you found yourself in the kitchen, that you realized that you hadn't eaten in all day. And the alien was well aware of that, so you opened the fridge looking for something to cook. While taking some vegetables to put them in the countertop, you heard a deep voice. Immediately your body was submerged under the creatures skin.

"Easy Y/N. I'm not a threat." You heard a male voice. Steve came out of the shadows and showed himself to you. After calming yourself and taking a deep breath, you returned to your normal self. You were definitely not usted to living with others.

"I could've killed you, old man." You said as you took a knife to star chopping the items you had placed earlier.

"Can't sleep?" Steve asked, before taking a sit next to the countertop.

"Never can. And you? What is keeping American's hero awake?"

Steve took a deep breath before talking. His mind was thinking about many things, and he couldn't shake it off. "You know, the usual, missions and training."

"Speaking of, uhm we have an upcoming mission in a couple of days." Steve continued.

You looked at him and nodded. You hated small talks, that's why you always tried to avoid talking to anyone, unless is was extremely necessary. "Great"

"You know, you should talk to Tony. He may be a little bit arrogant, but he can be a great friend."

"And why would I do that Rogers?" You replied.

"Because If you don't then I can't send you on missions. You need to learn how to work as a team. I'm not asking you to be friends with them, just talk to Tony and the team." Steve finished. And before you could say anything he was already excusing himself.

As the captain of the team, Steve thought that you needed to let people in. Otherwise all the 'not trusting one another' would end up having someone killed by a simple mistake. And tho your intentions were good, your methods were no the most suitable.

When you finished eating the meal that you had prepared for yourself, you went upstairs to rest. However, your mind was running a million miles away, and you could stop thinking about your conversation with Steve. After hours of walking from the bed to your desk, you came to the conclusion that you didn't had to be open about your feelings or any shit like that, you just need to be "friendly". And god, you already hated yourself for having to do such thing.

You woke up and, unlike the other mornings, you actually went to have breakfast with the team. Once you put foot on the kitchen all the eyes were turned to you.

"Good morning, nice for you to join us" Steve greet you with a pat on your shoulder.

"Yeah..." You said, unsure that you had made the right decision. After your small interaction with Steve, you walked to the countertop, took a plate and put some waffles on it. After that, you sat next to Natasha. At least having her closed brought you a little bit of comfort.

While you were finishing breakfast as quick as you could, you heard Wanda enter the room greeting everyone. However, she wasn't entering alone, and a kid that didn't looked older than 16, was walking side by side with her.

Wanda went into the kitchen a pour herself a cup of tea before she sat herself across from you and Natasha. Wanda found shocking the fact that you were actually having breakfast on the common area. However, your moment of peace and quiet was interrupted by a really chatty kid that was more than eager to talk to you. But before anyone could stop him, he was already with his mouth open.

"Are you the new member? The one that has an alien inside of her?" He asked. Tony and Steve looked at each other fearing for the kid's life. Everyone looked at you waiting for you to say something.

The kid's question took you by surprise. You were not expecting someone as eager to talk as him to interact with you. Less to be asked about the creature that lived inside of your body. However, before you could reply you felt Venom's willingness to make itself present.

"We are Venom" Said the creature as it slowly started to appeared behind you.

"Cool..." Was everything that came from the kid's mouth. You could actually see that he was curious about his encounter with the alien. "My name is Peter Parker, but everyone calls me Spider-Man"

"No. Nobody calls you that" Sam said entering the room. Leaving a very frustrated Peter

Wanda's eyes were worryingly looking at you, she didn't feared that you would hurt him, but she didn't want you to feel overwhelmed by Peter's questions. However before you could respond you were cut by Steve.

"Wanda... How are you feeling? How's the leg?" He asked. And immediately your eyes were glued on her face, actually wanting to know how she was doing.

"Fine, it hurts a little bit. But Bruce told me that I can walk. So that's better." She replied, and noticed how a small smile of relief escaped your lips.

The room fell into small conversations between the different Avengers, each of them talking about different topics with one another. And before they even noticed, you were already walking to the kitchen, placing you plate into the sink, and reaching the hallway.

However, before you could leave the room, you were stoped by someone calling for you.

"Y/N wait up!"

Hearing Steve's voice, you turned around to find the blond man reaching the kitchen door. You raised your eyebrows indicating him ti star talking.

"Hill mentioned that you have intel about Hydra ex members and their possibles locations." Said the captain. Upon hearing 

Steve's tone you knew exactly where the conversation was going.

"What about that?" You asked frowning your eyes.

"Why don't you bring them here so we can have a look at those files?" He finally asked. Even though you maintained your best poker face, your eyes betrayed you. To Steve it was cleared that you were having an internal fight. You could work with them using the only peace of information that you had, but you didn't trust them, at least not yet. "As a team."

Your eyes darted from Steve to Wanda, who was still sitting on the kitchen table. Her giggle echoing the thin walls as she laughed about Peter being teased by Bucky and Sam. Maybe Natasha was right and you had to trust them, maybe trusting them meant that you could bring Hydra down quickly. Maybe, just maybe, they were not that bad as you thought. Maybe there it was your second chance.

"They are at my apartment, I guess I can bring them to the compound" You replied reviving a smile from Steve. 

"Thank you" Said the blond. Replaying with a nod you begin to walk back to your room. However you were stopped by the captain's voice again. "Oh before you go, could you give Peter a lift, he's late for school"

"Absolutely not" You said without looking back.

[csainzsgirly]

I came across this on Twitter and just need a bit of Carlos fluff 😪 Maybe the reader comforting him after this? https://x.com/sextappen/status/1862475685970784505?s=46&t=p5sYAMSk8Ik3q_9U0csk7Q

fyi: i chose the middle pic randomly, idc about isa/rebecca, just thought the pic was cute (: Also, I don't know the details of this whole thing, so just enjoy the fluff x

synopsis: carlos just finding out his contract at ferrari is not renewed and his life briefly collapses (x)

One of your hands is supporting your head while your other is holding a book. You're curled up under a blanket on the sofa, a couple of vanilla candles lit up on the table, cozy lightning on. Carlos had told you a couple of hours ago he was driving his Ferrari back to Monaco instead of staying the night in Milan, which surprised you, as he normally took a hotel when he had a late afternoon meeting at the headquarters of his team, but apparently not today. The smell of chocolate chip cookies was still filling the kitchen, warmth blossoming in your chest at the thought that your boyfriend would be home again soon. It was January, and as Carlos picked up his training for the new season again, you would soon be home alone when he travels to Portugal for training camp. For Monaco terms, it was rather chilly outside, the Christmas weather lingering, which you loved. Partly because Carlos would always leave one or two of his hoodies for you.

They were your favorite. They smelled like him, they were so warm and cozy, getting you through the weeks he would be away. You heard the faint ding of the elevator at the end of the hallway, your fingers flicking another page while his keys rinkled in the door. "Mi vida?" his voice sounded, making you place the bookmark between the pages and get up. "It's dark here," he chuckles a little, his arms wrapping around you while you bury your face in his chest. "How was it? Do you want coffee and a cookie?" you chirp, moving into the kitchen while Carlos turns on another small lamp. "No, thank you," he replied. "Sure no cookie? They're freshly baked!" Carlos heart clenched a little in his chest, but there was no way he would get a cookie down his throat. "I'll taste them tomorrow, I promise," he says, sitting down on the sofa, leaning his elbows on his knees while he moves his hands over his face.

The drive home had been so cruel to him. He had been alone with his thoughts after everything that was discussed. It had been so much. His heart sunk again at the words that he was going to be replaced at the end of the season. He thought his time with Ferrari would have no end. The red... It fitted him so perfectly. You could feel something was wrong when you walked into the living room to join him. "Baby?" you asked, your hand brushing over his cheek before you sat down next to him. "My contact is not getting renewed," Carlos spilled right away. You felt your heart stop for a second. Your hands were freezing all of a sudden. "What?" you asked. "They told me that I'll be replaced at the end of the season. This is my last season with Ferrari," Carlos continued, running his fingers through his hair, gnawing at his bottom lip after. "I don't get it," you whisper. Ferrari was... everything he wanted, everything he dreamed of.

And you knew how exciting he was after his last meeting in Maranello, when they showed him how the car was developing. He was so eager to start again, knowing that his feedback had helped to improve the car. With everything coming up, the rule change in 2026, in his dreams he was winning titles with this team. "That's exactly what I said," he chuckled in disbelief. "They managed to get Lewis Hamilton, so I guess I never stood a chance against that," Carlos said, letting himself fall back against the cushions. It was silent for a second, and you didn't manage to keep your eyes from watering. "It broke me," he softly said. "And it makes me question what I did wrong, why they told me I didn't have to worry. I'm entering the season with finding a seat being on my priority list instead of winning races." He pinches the bridge of his nose, seeing you were struggling to hold back tears.

"Don't cry, mi amor," Carlos hums, bringing you into his chest. "It'll be fine," he kisses the top of your head. "I should be telling you that," you sniffle, knowing that he won't end up without a seat, but you can sense that he's acting tougher than he feels now. "I called my dad on the way home. I didn't want to stay there any longer," Carlos says, his thumbs drying your cheeks. "Forgot to cancel my hotel," he lets out a humorless laugh. "What now?" you hum, your fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls you onto his lap. "The hunt for a new seat starts now. Anything is open," Carlos says. "I should be able to get a good seat, right?" his eyes dart over your face. "Every team boss who's not calling you tomorrow is an idiot," you said. He smiles at your attempt to cheer him up. "They're putting up a statement at the end of the month to announce Lewis and... my departure," he said. "It hurts a lot."

Your fingers lift to trace his face, finding his pouty lower lip that he can't even force into a tight-lipped smile. "I know, and I hate you're leaving for Portugal in three days, feeling like this. Did you speak to Teto on the way back?" you asked, to which he nods. "Yeah, I did," Carlos replies. "We'll get through it," he adds, taking a deep breath. You look into his deep brown eyes, caressing his face again before kissing his lips. You were about to pull back, but his arms hold you tightly against his chest, to kiss you a bit longer. "I have to confess something," Carlos speaks against your lips. "I kind of want a cookie." It makes you laugh and your heart blossom at the same time. He was always like this. In times when he was hurting the most, he was still trying his best to make others happy. "We can get the plate, milk and get under the blanket?" you suggest. "Sounds perfect," he says, kissing you once more.

Carlos lifts you up with ease to put you on the floor, moving into the bedroom to get changed into something more comfortable. You get the plate of cookies you baked from the kitchen, taking the milk and two glasses to dip the cookies in. You snuggle up under the blanket in the corner of the sofa, sinking into the cushions with the plate on your lap. Carlos reappears, dressed in a pair of sweats and a black hoodie. "I will leave this one for you, mi vida," he says, a finger under your chin angling your face up to his so he could press another delicious kiss to your lips. "The gray one is my favorite," you say, eyeing how good he looks in this hoodie too, anyway. Carlos moves your legs on his lap as he gets under the blanket with you, taking a cookie from the plate to taste it. He groans at the taste. "You said no to this earlier, can you imagine?" you tease him. He laughs, but you can't see it reaching his eyes.

"Tell me about the book you're reading," Carlos says, needing something to get his mind off things. "You're gonna be so bored," you warn, but he shakes his head. "Just tell me something." He rests his head atop of yours, fingers wrapping around yours.

[joezworld]

Christmas Story

Haltraugh Station, November 30, 1984

“Late again…” Duck chided gently as Oliver rumbled in with the mid-day train. 

“Oh button it!” Oliver snapped from in-between Isabel and Dulcie. “I can’t help it if the train’s standing room only!” 

This was becoming a standard back-and-forth, and Duck rolled his eyes. “Ah well, at least it can’t get worse, eh?” he griped sarcastically. 

Oliver didn’t even dignify that with a response, and Dulcie sighed in relief as a large group of passengers departed en masse. 

In short order - although not short enough for Oliver’s already-late schedule - both trains set off down the single track line in opposite directions. It’s not even December yet! Duck thought to himself. Where on earth are these people going? 

It was a legitimate question. Over the years, the number of passengers had grown, but this year - specifically this Christmas, was well above average, and both engines were already feeling the strain. Trains were getting heavier and fuller, and the number of passengers trying to press in made each station stop take ages - and on top of all that, some days they now had to take extra coaches just to meet demand, which meant that they had to run around the train because they weren’t auto-coaches, which made them later still… It was a vicious cycle!

When Duck arrived at the big station, the Fat Controller was waiting for him, his pocket watch conspicuously on display. “Duck. Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon, sir.” Duck said, hoping the controller wouldn’t notice-

“Ten minutes behind time today.” Damn and blast. “Almost a record, albeit one we don’t want, hmm?”

“Sir…” Duck began, plaintive.

The man held up his hand, cutting him off. “No, no, I know.” He said, eyeing the stream of passengers departing the train. “Ticket sales are up almost twenty percent since the summer. I never thought we’d have too much of a good thing.”

“That,” Duck replied. “Is one way of describing it.”

Pocketing his watch, the Fat Controller sighed, leaning on his cane as he did so. “Don’t take this as an underestimation of your skills, but you and Oliver need help. Would another engine be of more use? Or just more coaches?”

Duck sagged in relief. “Oh goodness, both!” He said quickly. “There’s not enough of us to go around as it is. Donald and Douglas can’t help much, what with all their goods trains; and heaven forbid if we need to help them - it throws the entire day into chaos!” 

“I see.” The Fat Controller said seriously, just as the next group of passengers began to make their way out of the station building. “I will see what arrangements can be made. Expect something by tomorrow.”

Duck would have said something more, but the Fat Controller turned around, and was swallowed up by the crowd almost instantly. 

-------

The next morning, the Fat Controller’s ‘arrangements’ arrived, in the form of Bear, resplendent in shiny Western Region Green, and a rake of chocolate-and-cream Mark 1 coaches. This pleased Duck to no end, and Oliver found it all quite amusing. “It’s like we’ve gone back in time about twenty years!” He joked.

Bear smiled warmly. “That is not lost on me. Shall we make like our appearances and have this branch all ship-shape and Swindon fashion?”

And they did. It took most of the day, but with an extra set of buffers, and - mercy of mercy, more coaches - they were able to keep on the schedule all of Saturday, and were even able to put on an extra midday train for Sunday. 

It was enough to make an engine optimistic, and Oliver marveled at the lightened load on his buffers as he picked up a load of stone from the Small Railway. “It’s wonderful! He said to Rex. “We’re actually running to time. Who’d’ve thunk it?”

“Don’t say that!” the small engine hissed. “You’ll jinx it!” 

“Oh don’t be like that!” Oliver laughed. “Maybe it’ll be a Christmas miracle. Can’t jinx that!” And he chuffed away down the line. 

-

Rex took a passenger train up to the top of his line, came back, had a drink of water, and managed to goad Mike into taking a permanent way train instead of him by the time Oliver came back, several hours late, missing his autocoaches, and redder than a tomato.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he growled as his driver pulled him up to the water tower. 

Rex said nothing. 

“Of all the rotten luck!” Oliver grumbled anyway. “Bear gets called away on a train up to the mainland, and so I have to take his passengers - which is fine, but his coaches aren’t auto-fitted so I’ve got to run around them, and now Duck is stuck with all four of ours and I have to use the others which aren’t all day because we’re out of place. Of all the-grrrr!” He hissed angrily, steam billowing around him.

Rex and Bert looked at each other with barely concealed bemusement. Rex stayed mum, but as Oliver’s driver waved his arms in a futile attempt to clear the steam away, Bert raised an eyebrow sagely. “He did warn you about jinxing it.”

“GRRRRRRRRHHG!” Oliver vanished inside a cloud of his own steam. 

----------

Stephen Hatt entered his Father’s office. It felt somewhat strange to be in here - he’d spent most of his life in this place, but now that his father had announced he was planning to retire soon, the knowledge that it would be his made the entire room feel… odd. 

“Ah, Stephen, do come in.” His father said, staring intently at a precarious pile of wooden blocks. 

“You called for me?” He asked, before looking at the tower again. “And what is that?”

“It’s called Jenga.” His father said, carefully removing a block of wood from the base and placing it on the top. The tower wobbled unsteadily as he did so. “It’s a children’s game. You take the blocks from the bottom and put them on top. You lose if it falls down.”

“Why are you playing it?” 

“Your aunt knows the creator - I think they’re in the same ladies’ group -  and thought it would be a fun Christmas gift.” The tower wobbled again, and his father stilled himself for a moment to let it subside. “But I have also found it to be a thinking tool.”

“Thinking tool?”

“Yes.” Very slowly, another block was extracted from the bottom. “Churchill did something similar during the war, you know.” The block was deposited on the top. “He’d have a bucket of mortar and a pile of bricks and would build a wall in the back garden of Number 10 whenever he needed to relax.”

“Knowing what I do about Churchill, he seemed like an odd fellow.”

Another block was wrested free, and his father looked up from the tower. “I met him once. Had I been twenty years older, he and I would have been friends, I’m sure. Your Grandfather would definitely have been, had he gone into the military.” The block was deposited on the top, giving the tower a somewhat lopsided appearance. 

“I don’t know what that says about you and granddad then.”

“As you age, you must become eccentric on your own terms, lest it be thrust upon you against your will.” He looked up again. “Just think, I could be playing with dolls right now.” 

Stephen didn’t quite know what to say to that, and watched as another block was slowly pulled out. The entire structure seemed to be resting entirely on one block, and it was astounding that it hadn’t fallen down. “Did you call me in here to play with blocks, or was there something you wanted?”

“Ah yes.” His father put the block down on top, and once the tower had stopped wobbling, addressed him. “What do you think we should do about the Little Western?”

Ah. It suddenly made sense. “We need another engine.” 

“That sounds wonderfully simple.” His father left the tower, and began rooting around a large cardboard mailing box that was in a corner of the room, eventually producing a much smaller one labeled JENGA: THE PERPETUAL CHALLENGE. “Do we just ring up the Midland region and ask for one?” 

“Honestly? Yes.” He said. “Simple is sometimes the best.” 

“And you’re sure they’ll have one that can fit down that little branch?”

“Oh, it’s not for the branch.” 

That brought his father’s head up. “Oh?” 

He took a seat on the plush visitor chairs, careful not to disturb the desk or the tower. “The Little Western needs an extra engine for peak services - preferably a small mixed traffic engine - and we have three such engines - four, if you count James.”

“The other three being the Twins and Bear, I assume?” 

“Mmhm.” He watched as his father tried reaching into the little Jenga box, before eventually turning it upside down. A small piece of paper - probably the instructions - fluttered out. “The problem is that when we’re in a situation where an engine like Henry is being overhauled, our mixed traffic engines are the first to be called to cover for him.”

“So you propose we need another dedicated mixed traffic engine?” his father said, unfurling the little piece of paper. 

“I certainly think so.”

“Hmm.” His father made a noise as he inspected the instructions. “That would make more sense.”

“What?” 

“This is a two player game.”

“It took you this long to realize?”

“Mmhm. Why don’t you pull a block?”

“Seriously?” 

“Yes. I’ve seen how high your eyebrows have raised. You have a go at it then.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, and went for a block at random. The tower wobbled, and stilled his hand. 

“Are you sure that bringing in a new mixed traffic engine would solve the problem?” His father chose that moment to get back on topic. 

“What?” Stephen asked as he hunted for a block that wasn’t so precarious. “Yes. Another engine on the main would ease traffic there when it’s not on Little Western.” Aha. There was a loose block, and he pulled it out and set it on top with a minimum of wobbling. 

“And what happens when traffic picks up on both?” His father strode over and plucked a block out of the second from the bottom row with almost no effort. “Christmas doesn't happen only in Arlesburgh, you know.” 

Stephen goggled as his father set the block on top with a plink, the tower not even moving a little. “You’re cheating, and you know something. Out with them both.”

“I can’t cheat physics,” His father’s eyes were fucking twinkling. “And everything I know, you know. You just haven’t put it together yet.” 

“What would I do then?” Stephen asked as he pulled on another seemingly-loose block, wondering how on earth his father came up with this insane idea for a metaphor. “Do you think London would give us any engine that wasn’t a right terror? They’d have Oliver jumping at shadows within a fortnight.” The block he pulled at was stuck fast, and he had to go for another. “And I don’t think we can just go down to Dai Woodham and buy a steam engine off him - not unless we want to do it out of pocket.” The tower wobbled as he set the block on top, but it held. 

“No, I don’t think we could do that.” His father admitted, as he ran his finger down one side of the tower, looking for loose blocks. “But, you are on the right track.”

“What? Is there a steam engine you know about? How could we get it?” 

“As a matter of fact, there is.” There was a single block remaining at the bottom of the tower, and with a dramatic flourish, his father pulled it out. 

The entire tower dropped down vertically onto the surface of the desk with a clack, but didn’t fall over. 

Ignoring his son’s agog look, Charles Hatt smiled beatifically and placed the block atop the tower. “Sometimes, the best move is not the most obvious.” 

Stephen was still speechless, and Charles took the time to walk back over to the mailing box. “You know, Barbara didn’t only send me that Jenga game. She actually heard about it when discussing another game her friend was making.” He hefted out a much larger box - it was green, with gold lettering on it. “This one isn’t even sold yet, but she was very kind to send us a pre-production copy.”

“Great Western Railway Game?” Stephen read the box. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

His father responded by opening up the box and producing a few game cards. They were rough around the edges, clearly hand-cut; a pre-production sample, it seemed. He moved over to the desk and laid them out in front of Stephen. “We already have some pieces.” 

The first card said “Paddington” and had a picture of a 57xx on it. 

The next card said “Salisbury” and had… was that Oliver? It was. Looking at the first card showed that it actually was Duck on it. 

“Where are you going with this?” Stephen asked. 

“I,” His father said with infuriating placidity, “Am not going anywhere with this. You, however, might do well to go to Crovan’s Gate later.” He put down the last card. “Truro” was emblazoned on the top, a City class engine underneath. 

The pieces suddenly fell into place for Stephen. “You’re an irritating old man who speaks in riddles.” He told his father as a bewildered grin spread across his face. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“Because come January I won’t be here to tell you.” His father said, placing the cards on the desk's cluttered surface. “This will all be yours to command, however you choose.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” Stephen stood, collecting his coat. “And I should go now, to make those arrangements.”  He made it almost to the door, before he stopped. “You know, it’s not January yet.” 

“And?” 

He motioned to the abandoned Jenga tower. “Two player game?” 

Charles Hatt smiled broadly. “I’d be honored.” 

With that, two generations of Fat Controller - one current, and one future - stepped out of the office, headed towards the platforms. 

Behind them, the slamming of the door caused the Jenga tower to collapse, sending blocks scattering across the desk, and burying the engine cards. 

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

Later that night, the Fat Controller met Duck at the big station. From several platforms away, Gordon couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could tell that it was important - perhaps Oliver was finally being told the importance of being on time? 

A jaw-dropped expression turned into a giddy smile, one that threatened to crack Oliver’s smokebox clean in half. Clearly something juvenile, and Great Western (which was assuredly the same thing).

Curiosity now assuaged, Gordon put the strange workings of Western Tank Engines out of his mind, and thought nothing more about it. 

A few minutes later, Duck steamed in with the next train. He pulled up right next to Oliver, who immediately began babbling about whatever the Fat Controller had said. 

Again, Gordon pointedly ignored them, until Duck yelled so loud that he could be heard over the general din of the station, and then whistled for so long that his driver had to take him outside, thinking that something was wrong with the whistle! 

Finally, when the uproar ended, James found time to speak up. “What was that all about?” 

Gordon sighed. “I don’t know, but I imagine that we will find out in short order whether we like it or not.”

[yoomiwrites]

Salty Rush¹¹

Summary: Some time ago, Reader was a partner of Akainu, a comrade he could rely on. Reader betrayed the navy, became part of a pirate crew...And finally the two face each other again

Note: He is WEAK.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The silence weighed heavily in the small room. My hands rested in my lap, cuffed and immovable, but my mind was anything but still. The minutes stretched on endlessly, every creak of the walls making me jump. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but the oppressive quiet felt like a punishment in itself.

Then, the sound of footsteps.

They were steady, deliberate, and heavier than those of the soldiers who had brought me here. My heart pounded as the iron door groaned open, revealing a tall, broad figure I hadn’t seen in years. The sight of him made my breath hitch, my chest tightening.

“Sengoku…” I whispered.

The former fleet admiral stepped into the room, his presence as commanding as ever. His white hair glinted under the dim light, and his sharp eyes bore into me with a mixture of pain and disappointment. For a moment, he didn’t speak, simply standing there as if gathering his thoughts. Then, with a sigh, he stepped closer and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So,” he began, his voice low but firm. “This is what it’s come to.”

I didn’t know what to say. Seeing him again brought a flood of memories—years of training under his guidance, his sharp but fair criticism, his unwavering belief in my potential. I had admired him once, respected him as both a mentor and a man. But now, all I could do was lower my gaze, shame tightening my throat.

He pulled out the chair opposite me, its legs scraping against the stone floor, and sat down. For a long moment, he studied me, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke again, softer this time.

“You’ve changed,” he said. “But not enough to hide from me. I know you, Y/N. Better than you might think.”

My lips parted, but no words came out. What could I say? Sorry? That felt hollow. Explanations felt useless. So I said nothing, and the silence between us stretched.

Sengoku’s voice cut through it, laced with emotion. “When I first heard the reports of your defection… I couldn’t believe it. I told myself there had to be a reason, something I wasn’t seeing. But then the evidence piled up.”

He leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together, his gaze piercing. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

His words struck me harder than any blow. I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Or anyone.” My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “But I couldn’t stay. Not when I saw what we were doing. What we were becoming. Sengoku… you know it’s wrong. You’ve always known.”

His expression flickered, a flash of something I couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps. Then, he exhaled heavily and leaned back in his chair. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted, his tone weary. “Not entirely. But that doesn’t mean I can forgive you for the path you chose. There were other ways, Y/N. You could have come to me.”

“Would it have mattered?” I shot back, the bitterness in my voice surprising even me. “I did what I had to do because no one else would. I—” My voice faltered, and I looked away. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice,” he said, though there was no malice in his tone. Only sadness.

The silence returned, heavy and suffocating. I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my emotions in check. Finally, Sengoku broke the quiet.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asked.

I frowned, confused by the sudden shift. “I assumed… an execution,” I said bluntly. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To deliver the final judgment?”

To my surprise, Sengoku shook his head. “No. This isn’t an execution.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Then what is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. “It’s… an enlightenment. A celebration, of sorts.”

“What?” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “What are you talking about?”

Sengoku’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “It seems Sakazuki has made his first mistake.”

I froze, his words echoing in my mind. “What… mistake?” I asked, my heart pounding.

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “He’s claimed your betrayal was part of a covert mission. A lie, of course, but one he’s insisted on. According to him, your actions were sanctioned, your defection an elaborate ruse to gain intel.”

I stared at him, my mind reeling. “That’s ridiculous. Why would he—” I stopped mid-sentence, the answer dawning on me like a punch to the gut. “He… lied? To protect me?”

Sengoku nodded slowly. “It would seem so. And now the higher-ups are preparing to welcome you back as a hero, rather than a traitor.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Anger flared in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. “That bastard,” I muttered, my fists clenching. “He lied to save his own conscience. To clean up his mess. He doesn’t get to decide my story—”

But even as the anger burned, something else stirred within me. A warmth I couldn’t quite explain. He had lied. For me. For reasons I couldn’t fully understand, Sakazuki—Sakazuki, of all people—had shown weakness. Had bent the truth for my sake.

And somehow, that made me furious and happy all at once.

“Y/N,” Sengoku said, his voice pulling me back to the present. “Whatever his reasons, this is your chance. Your one chance to walk away from this with your life. You’d be wise to take it.”

I looked at him, my emotions a storm of confusion, anger, and something uncomfortably close to hope. “And if I don’t?”

His gaze softened, and for the first time, I saw the pain behind his stern exterior. “Then we will lose you. For good.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on my shoulders. I looked down at my hands, the cuffs biting into my wrists, and took a deep, shaky breath.

Sengoku leaned back, his gaze heavy as he regarded me. The tension between us was palpable, the weight of our shared history pressing down on the room. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice quieter now. “What happened? Between you and Sakazuki?”

I blinked at the unexpected question, my throat tightening. For a moment, I considered brushing it off, keeping it vague, but the sincerity in his expression stopped me. If anyone deserved the truth, it was Sengoku.

“It’s… complicated,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “We trained together, you know that. Back then, we were close—closer than anyone knew.” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “He was… different. Not softer, exactly, but there was more to him than just the cold, calculating Admiral everyone sees now. He cared. About me, about what we were fighting for.”

Sengoku nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I remember that. You two were inseparable during training. But something changed.”

I looked away, my chest tightening at the memory. “It did. As we climbed the ranks, he started pulling away. The more he dedicated himself to the cause, to justice, the less room there was for anything—or anyone—else.”

“Except for you,” Sengoku said quietly, his words startling me.

I frowned, shaking my head. “No, even me. He didn’t have time for doubts or distractions. And that’s what I became. A distraction.” My hands clenched into fists. “I tried to talk to him, to make him see that the way the Navy was heading—it wasn’t right. But he wouldn’t listen. Or maybe he couldn’t. He’d already made his choice.”

“And you made yours,” Sengoku said, his tone measured.

I nodded, my heart aching at the memory. “I left because I couldn’t stand by and watch anymore. I thought… I thought maybe it would wake him up, make him question things. But instead, he saw it as a betrayal. Not just of the Navy, but of him. And now… here we are.”

Sengoku was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with something I couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps, or understanding.

“He cared for you,” he said. “More than I think even he realized. And I think that’s why it hurt him so much when you left.”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “He cared for the idea of me, maybe. The version of me that fit neatly into his vision of justice. But the real me? The one who saw the cracks in the system, who questioned the orders we were given? He couldn’t handle that.”

Sengoku leaned forward, his eyes piercing. “And yet, he lied to protect you. Do you know how much that cost him? For someone like Sakazuki, who lives and breathes by the code of absolute justice, to bend the truth like this… it’s not something he would do lightly.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “Why, though?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Why would he do that after everything?”

Sengoku’s gaze softened. “Maybe because he regrets what happened between you. Or maybe because, deep down, he knows you were right. And that scares him more than he’d ever admit.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I looked away, my vision blurring. “I don’t know if I can forgive him,” I said quietly. “For the things he’s done, the people he’s hurt. But part of me…” I trailed off, my voice trembling.

“Part of you still cares for him,” Sengoku finished, his tone gentle.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.”

Sengoku leaned back, exhaling heavily. “You and Sakazuki… you’re two sides of the same coin. Both stubborn, both unyielding in your beliefs. And both of you have suffered because of it.”

The room fell into silence again, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, Sengoku stood, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Whatever happens next,” he said, his voice firm but kind, “know that I still believe in you. You were one of my best, Y/N. And no matter what path you’ve chosen, I’ll always see you as the person I trained.”

His words left me stunned, a lump forming in my throat as he turned to leave.

“Sengoku,” I called out, my voice trembling.

He paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” I said, the words barely audible.

He nodded once, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before stepping through the door and leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As the door closed behind him, I leaned back against the wall, my mind spinning. Sengoku’s words echoed in my head, mingling with memories of Sakazuki, of the fire in his eyes and the rare softness he tried so hard to hide.

Maybe Sengoku was right. Maybe we were two sides of the same coin. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to figure out what that meant.

[gwen728228]

Simon ghost riley x reader

Sharp Tongues and Soft Hearts

The training field was buzzing with activity. Sunlight glinted off polished weapons as soldiers went through drills, their grunts and shouts forming a rhythmic background. You, however, were preoccupied with the man standing across from you, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with challenge.

Simon “Ghost” Riley had the kind of presence that demanded attention, even when he wasn’t trying. His black tactical gear clung to his broad frame, the infamous skull mask concealing most of his face but none of the intensity in his gaze.

“Alright, love,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, but with a teasing edge. “Show me how good you really are.”

You raised an eyebrow, spinning the training knife in your hand. “You mean to tell me I have to prove myself again? Thought I already earned your respect.”

“Oh, you’ve got my respect,” he drawled, circling you with predatory grace. “Just wondering if you’ve still got the edge… or if you’ve gone soft.”

You laughed, the sound light but defiant. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.”

The banter hung in the air for a moment before you both moved simultaneously. Simon lunged, but you sidestepped, bringing the blunt edge of your knife toward his ribs. He blocked it with ease, his larger frame forcing you to retreat and rethink your approach.

“Not bad,” he muttered, his tone approving. “But you’ll have to do better than that.”

You smirked, dropping into a low stance. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

The sparring was intense, a dance of attacks and counterattacks. Simon’s strength and precision were unmatched, but your agility and quick thinking kept you in the game. You managed to graze his side with your knife, earning a grunt of surprise.

“Cheeky,” he said, his tone dark but amused.

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Just as you were about to press your advantage, Simon caught you off guard, sweeping your legs out from under you. You hit the ground with a soft thud, and before you could react, he was straddling you, pinning your wrists above your head.

“Got you,” he murmured, leaning down until his masked face was mere inches from yours.

Your heart raced, but you refused to let him see it. Instead, you smirked up at him. “You know, if you wanted to get me on my back, all you had to do was ask.”

Simon stilled for a moment before a soft chuckle escaped him. “Careful, love. Keep talking like that, and I might forget this is just training.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Who said I was joking?”

For a second, his grip on your wrists loosened, just enough for you to twist and flip him onto his back. You sat astride his chest, grinning triumphantly as you held the training knife to his throat.

“Got you,” you said, throwing his words back at him.

Simon stared up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth beneath the mask. “Alright, love. You win this round.”

You leaned down slightly, your voice softening. “You let me win, didn’t you?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but the way his hand came to rest lightly on your hip told you everything you needed to know. “Maybe I just like seeing you on top.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and fond. “But you love me for it.”

You didn’t deny it. Instead, you leaned down, pressing your forehead against his, the mask warm against your skin. “Damn right I do.”

For a moment, the noise of the training field faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“Alright, love,” Simon said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Let’s get back to it before someone thinks we’re slacking off.”

You climbed off him, offering a hand to help him up. He took it, his fingers lingering against yours for a moment longer than necessary. As you turned to reset your stance, you could feel his eyes on you, full of admiration and affection.

“Ready for round two?” you asked, throwing him a cheeky grin.

He shook his head, but there was nothing but fondness in his voice when he replied, “Always.”

[annchanorsomethin]

I may or may not have lost my sanity since the first trailer for The Bad Guys 2 came out. Literally been brimming with thoughts and theories for almost a week now and dying inside because everyone I'm annoying with this I do not want to spoil lol. But creativity has struck me so after 2 years here I am again :)

The artwork and some brain ramblings will be under the cut since I got at least three people following me that I don't want to spoil what's coming

So here we go :)

"You seem to have forgotten why you are here... PRINCE"

I've been wondering for a while now how his disguise actually works and how the movie will handle it. Personally, I think it could go one of two ways. Either it's essentially a suit like in the books with all his limbs stuffed inside or a disguise he morphed himself into. And while the first one seems more likely, and I don't mind either being true, I found the second option quite interesting in a design and logic aspect, especially when considering his appearances from the first movie.

When he actually does walk around in a costume, we can see that his whiskers poke out. Flaw in the costume? A device for foreshadowing? Perhaps. But maybe, if his disguise was actually a meticulously crafted and trained on appearance, he doesn't even turn the small details of his disguise off, due to doing it subconsciously at this point.

His hair also behaves quite odd if it were just essentially a body suit, as it morphs with how he likes to appear - either neat and innocent or frazzled and crazy. Additionally his hair during his reveal does match the squiggles of tentacles quite a little bit, no?

Besides, there might be a reason why he wasn't shown at all in the trailer. Maybe he doesn't quite look like he used to... I like to think that his disguise is starting to falter after his defeat. He isn't seen as the innocent little piggy anymore and we all know what's coming after his reveal, so why keep up appearances? The way I drew him depicts this process, the crumbling of his disguise. His true colours start showing through, he doesn't bother concealing it anymore. Although maybe, he clings on a little bit after all, just as long as he is conspiring with a certain someone to achieve his goals from the dark, but it's all slowly falling apart...

But who knows, I might just be talking crazy :) So long we can only wait for the next trailer and the movie itself to see what will be his entire deal...

(version without the text)