#I’m so distracted by the GUESTS that I can’t write this

[helaintoloki]

the other Hargreeves siblings being absolutely teary-eyed on the day of y/n and Five’s wedding. they like to think of her as an adopted member of the family, because she’s gone through so much with them, gotten so close to death in multiple occasions while trying to save them. after everything, they never thought to see her live out the happy life she deserve, much less getting married to Five.

a/n: i am a sucker for found family tropes and wedding pieces so this was fun for me to write

warnings: none i think ? mostly fluff

Your stomach feels as if it’s tied into a million knots, and you can’t bring yourself to even touch the plate of fruit Klaus had fetched for you to nibble on as you got ready for the big day. Allison works diligently to perfect your look despite her insistence that you should have just let her hire a professional to get the job done, but you were adamant about keeping everything as simple as possible. Neither you nor Five wanted some big extravagant mess when it came to your ceremony, and if it had been up to you both you would have just settled for a courthouse marriage, but his family wouldn’t have it. You were finally becoming an official Hargreeves, and they deemed it necessary to celebrate with a proper wedding and reception despite the fact that there really would only be about ten guests at most.

You met Five in the apocalyptic ruins of the world while scavenging for food. Despite everyone you knew and cared about perishing in the gale of fire that blanketed the earth, you had miraculously survived. Call it pure luck for being at the right place at the right time, but you had been searching for a flashlight in your underground basement when the moon had been struck, and the reinforced steel structure of the room had kept you from suffering the same fate as everyone around you.

Neither of you trusted each other in the beginning, but you both were smart enough to realize that sticking together was necessary for your survival, and so you put aside your differences to travel the apocalyptic wasteland together. That’s not to say there weren’t times when you got on each others nerves or wanted to strangle him with your bare hands, but with time your partnership evolved into an actual friendship, and perhaps it could have evolved into more if not for the constant distractions that arose during your fight for survival.

Allison accidentally poking your eye with a mascara wand interrupts your moment of reminiscing, and she merely gives you an apologetic smile when you shoot her a look of annoyance in return.

“I told you we should have hired a professional,” she reminds you matter of factly only for you to lightly swat her hand away.

“And I told you I wanted to go down to the courthouse and pick up a sheet cake at the grocery store,” you counter with a raised brow. Sensing defeat, Allison relents with a small sigh and takes a step back to look at her masterpiece.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just our family doesn’t get to do these sorts of things very often, and it’s not every day I get a new sister.”

Your shoulders slump guilty at her admission, and you find yourself now feeling less combative against her than you initially were. Though you mentally are in your 50’s and no longer see a need to have a big wedding to marry a man you’ve known for basically your whole life, you still physically look like a young bride, so it’s only natural for Allison and the rest of Five’s siblings to want to treat you as such. From what Five has told you along with the stories that have been recounted in your presence, their lives have always been less than normal. You of all people can relate to that- growing up in an apocalypse, becoming a glorified secretary for a time-ordinance bureau while your only friend is out on assignments, risking your life to save the world, ending multiple apocalypses. The list could go on forever. They’re only trying to experience normal family milestones, so who are you to get in the way of that.

“No, I’m sorry,” you relent with a remorseful sigh. “I know you’re just trying to be nice, and I’m grateful for how quickly you and your siblings have welcomed me into the family despite how unconventional this all is. I really appreciate it.”

“Good, I’m glad you see it my way,” Allison teases playfully before finishing up the final touches on her masterpiece.

“Knock, knock,” Klaus singsongs from outside your dressing room before letting himself in. Proudly holding up the plastic wrap bag from its hanger, he announces, “Here I am with the dress, and as promised, nothing happened to it under my watch.”

“Thank you, Klaus,” you smile gratefully only for him to return the gesture with an affectionate pinch of your cheek.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m just so excited to finally have a little sister!”

“You know I’m technically older than you right?” You retort with a raised brow only for him to press a finger to your lips.

“Shh, don’t ruin this for me,” he gently corrects you before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You don’t miss the way his eyes begin to water at the sight of you with your hair and makeup done, but you’re kind enough not to point it out. Klaus had been the easiest of Five’s siblings to warm up to, always treating you like one of his own and roping you into his mischief despite your fiancé’s protests. The Seance couldn’t even count on one hand how many times you had been there to lend a shoulder for him to cry on when his addiction became too much or offer a supportive hand when his siblings had been less than eager to do so. He adored you, and he could nearly burst with pride at finally being able to call himself your brother.

“Alright, we have thirty minutes left to get you into that dress and down that isle,” Allison announces with a determined clap of her hands before snatching the dress from Klaus. “Are you ready to officially become Mrs. Hargreeves?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you announce with a resigned sigh before immediately being pulled every which way by the two siblings to finish your ensamble.

You can’t wait to get this over with.

~~~

“You nervous?” Viktor whispers with a gentle nudge to Five’s side. Quiet chatter drifts through the air as the handful of guests that are present make conversation to pass the time before the ceremony begins. Neither of you exactly have big families; Five has only ever had his siblings, and your family isn’t exactly supportive of your choice of groom. It’s an intimate affair, but you both prefer it that way.

“Hardly,” he scoffs indignantly, though his need to readjust his tie for the millionth time says otherwise. Five knows that this probably should have happened sooner and promoting you from his partner to his wife has been long overdue. He was honestly surprised you had said yes when he’d finally bit the bullet and asked the question. He loved you, cared for you in a way he never thought possible and in a way that honestly wasn’t quite like him. But you were different, and he hadn’t risked it all trying to end multiple apocalypses just to not marry you once the world was finally safe.

“I’m glad you’re happy, we all are,” his brother notes with a kind smile. “She’s good for you, and she’ll be a good addition to the family.”

Five can’t argue with that. It honestly pains him to think about just how many times you’ve thrown your own life on the line for not just him but his siblings as well. You’ve been there for them even when it wasn’t your responsibility, when they technically weren’t your family yet, even when Five himself wasn’t the best brother to them all. While Five could at times be brash or crude, you were patient and understanding, and this balance helped make their team stronger. You’d make a fine Hargreeves; he wouldn’t be standing here today if that weren’t the case.

Behind the wooden double doors you nervously readjust your veil as you wait for your cue to enter the room. Diego holds your bouquet patiently on your left while Luther fluffs out the skirt of your dress for you on your right. Having no real family present for your big day, you were left without anyone to give you away to your new husband. Diego and Luther had both been eager to throw themselves at the chance to be at your side down the aisle, constantly at each other’s necks arguing over who deserved the right more. Of course, as the bride it was you who got the final say, and the choice couldn’t have been more obvious. You picked them both.

Both men had been put through a lot by your fiancé, from having to carry his drunken form out of a library to dealing with his fits of rage at their inability to meet his deadlines for important tasks, but they had always been kind to you despite the unorthodox nature of your relationship with their brother. Luther had taken several bullets for you before, and Diego hadn’t shied away from being a supportive shoulder to cry on whenever you and Five couldn’t see eye-to-eye. It would feel wrong not to have them both by your side, and they were honored.

“You scared?” Diego questions after noticing your tight grip on his bicep when the music begins. He has to hold back a wince from the way your manicured nails dig into his arm and distracts himself by handing you your bouquet.

“A little,” you answer honestly, harshly swallowing down your nerves when Luther opens the doors for you to walk through.

“You’ve got this,” Diego encourages after pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “If anyone is brave enough to marry my brother, it’s you.”

“Brave or maybe a little insane,” Luther adds under his breath.

You can’t help the small huff of air that pushes past your lips in response to his quip, but you’re given no time to respond as your soon-to-be brother-in-laws escort you to your awaiting husband.

No one can deny how absolutely breath taking you look in your elegantly simple wedding gown, your smile nervous as you make your way towards Five who looks so handsome in his perfectly tailored suit. All day you’ve wanted nothing more than to see him, but now that you’re here you find yourself full of nerves and anxiety.

Luther and Diego give you away at the end of the isle (not without sternly warning Five to take good care of their new sister), and you finally find yourself face-to-face with the man you’ve loved for years.

“You ready for this?” He whispers under his breath as Viktor begins his officiant speech, subtly reaching for your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“This won’t be the worst thing we’ve done together,” you note cheekily with a shrug as you hide your smile behind your bouquet, and Five can’t argue with that.

Though his siblings have been better at showing their excitement for this day than you or Five combined, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy to finally be marrying the boy who had been by your side through thick and thin, good and bad, and life and death. Perhaps your love story was a bit unconventional, but unconventionality is a Hargreeves speciality.

You’re going to fit right in.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

another snippet of the barbecue fic (aka another snippet of buck being horny for his boyfriend lmao I swear this is a wholesome fluffy family fic haha), this is my priority now, I wanna finish it soon so send all the motivation haha <3

prev snippet

___

“Behave.” He scolds with no heat behind it.

“Mhm, yessir.” Buck purrs, his lips moving across Tommy’s bare shoulder. 

“Fuck.” Tommy breathes out and completely stills, and Buck can’t really see his face but he knows his boyfriend closed his eyes and is trying to calm down – which can’t be easy with Buck still plastered against his back. “This food is gonna burn if you keep this up. And we have guests to feed.” He adds, and as if to make a point, he flips a slightly overdone burger, Buck hindering his movements just a little bit.

Before he can respond, he hears another voice get through the chatter and music and reach his ears.

“Buck!” Chimney calls, and Buck looks over his shoulder to find everyone’s eyes on him, amused expressions on their faces. “Don’t distract our cook, we’re starving!”

“I’m just scolding him for taking his shirt off.” Buck says easily, then adds a little louder, to Tommy but making sure everyone hears, “Babe, you’re gonna burn yourself, you’re a firefighter, you should know better.” He shakes his head, and Tommy looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re gonna pretend like you don’t approve?”

“Oh, I so don’t, Tommy, at all.” Buck tries to keep a straight face, but a chuckle bubbles out of him anyway. “You’re such a distraction, this is dangerous for everyone here.”

“I think you’re the only one with that problem, Buckaroo.” Hen laughs, and only then Buck remembers everyone’s still paying attention to them. It’s so easy to get lost in Tommy, to feel like it’s just them, even in a crowd of people. So distracting. It’s a hazard, really. He should keep Tommy away from everyone, preferably locked in the bedroom with him, for everyone’s safety.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @bibuckkinard @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @hippolotamus @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck @kinkleydiaz @diazsdimples @aringofsalt

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 4: Under His Spell

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve been Coriolanus’s guest for a while now, yet you still feel drawn to him rather than wanting to escape. One evening after you express how much you miss your family, Coriolanus decides to get your mind off things and shows off his lab.

Word count: 3.4k

Warning: 21+ (use of drugs), mentions of smut, non-con, degeneration, nicknames(slut, good girl), mentions of oral (f! receiving), use of aphrodisiacs, stalking, possession, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping

A/N: omg…I can’t believe i’m back to posting. i can’t believe y’all are still reading and some have been waiting a while for an update on anything so…here. this series is will be finished first before i get to Summer Highs and everything else i promised. it’s been such a struggle since i last put anything out, and im still working on feeling mentally better, but i do want to get back into writing. i hope you guys enjoy this and my suggestions are still open. i’m also welcoming any ideas for Summer Highs or a Joel fic and i may start writing for Nicholas Alexander Chavez 👀 so stayed tuned ♥︎

P.S. this was inspired by the Michael’s crafts white Halloween decor so iykyk

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

After that morning, you felt different. Different about him and to a certain extent, the circumstances that brought you here.

Over the next two weeks, you slowly give up on your plans to escape. Seeing as you were under constant guard and his own watchful eye, escape felt impossible and eventually your family had been told that President Snow was hosting people near his palace as The Games approach. And somehow his web of lies worked. You still hadn’t seen them and you were starting to miss them dearly.

Coriolanus notices and does his absolute best to distract you. He sets up modeling gigs for you during most of the week, then he starts to pamper you. Every night treating you to the most scrumptious meals and the most relaxing baths. He starts to dress you more often, making sure to adorn you in the finest silk, cashmere, cotton and jewelry Panem has. He makes sure you get plenty of sleep and makes sure that the modeling gigs keep you front and center in the fashion magazines. This is all you could have dreamed of. You fall under his spell, yet the idea of freedom lingers in your mind. At the same time, it seems to miraculously fade away the moment he lays you down on his bed. In addition to luxurious treatment, Coriolanus knew how to take a woman to bed. His tongue was a drug, his mouth, a vice. He would lay you on your back, spread your legs and spend hours pleasing you. He loves your taste. Slightly bitter, but oh so sweet. He would take his time, dancing his tongue against your folds and diving into your cunt. He loves to make you moan and squeal.

Coriolanus always makes sure you let it out. He wants the whole palace to hear how good he makes you feel. He would hold you down, sometimes tie your wrists to the bed. He loves the power he holds over you, and loves seeing you bare on his bed. And you were starting to look forward to him inviting you into his room every evening. Your core was always throbbing for him, wanting to feel his full length buried deep inside you. He loved to feel your tight warmth, he loved how you clenched and gripped him. He loved how your face scrunched up, distorted from feeling so good. He would sometimes plunge a finger or two into your mouth, making you suck on them while he picks up the pace. His hips slamming into you as he commanded you to degrade yourself.

“Tell me you’re a good little slut.”

“I’m a good little slut, sir.”

He liked when you called him that. Even though he told you to call him Coriolanus, in the bedroom he required Mr. President or Sir.

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“Your cock feels so good Mr. President. So so good”

“Good girl”

One night at dinner, you stare thoughtfully at the young blonde and take small sips of your Gazpacho. Coriolanus notices and stops eating. You raise and eyebrow at him.

“Sir…?” You question. He looks up at you. “Coriolanus.” You correct yourself and he smiles

“What’s wrong my dear?”

“N-n-nothing is wrong. I just have something on my mind”

“Well…tell me.” He demands

“It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve seen my family…I’ve been missing them.”

“I bet you have, but my darling…” he holds out his hand and you take it “Not quite yet…” he tells you, giving you a playful smile.

“When though…I feel like they must be worried about me and I just want- “

Coriolanus’s face drops and he gives you a stern look, squeezing your hand. You whine at the pain.

“Watch it, my dear…you are getting ahead of yourself now. You have been so good for me. Do not mess it up.”

“But I just want- “

“It’s not about what you want. Don’t you understand?”

Your heart sinks and eyes well with tears. You want to cry but won’t in front of him. You won’t show that weakness. You collect yourself quickly and nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll be able to see them again. When I think you’re ready. Am I clear?”

You nod your head and look down in your lap. He clears his throat, and you look back up at him.

“I said, am I clear?”

“Yes sir” you quip up.

“Good girl. I have something to show you after dinner.”

“I look forward to it” you tremble slightly as you say it.

After dinner, he stands up and walks next to you, holding out his hand.

“I want you to follow me.”

You nod and obey. He holds your hand, guides you up and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a silk black blindfold and smiles. Without a word, you turn around and he places it over your eyes.

“I’ve noticed how your eyes wander whenever we walk through the palace. I’ve seen eyes like that before. And they always leave me. Or try to. I’m not ready to let you go quite yet and I really don’t want to have to punish you if you have any ideas.”

“I-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I can tell you’re wanting to settle in. But I see your eyes. And how they linger and plot.”

“I-I’m sorry…it’s just my family, my life, everything has slipped away from me.”

Then you feel his firm grip wrap under your chin. He pulls you against his chest and nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He places a delicate kiss under your chin then whispers in your ear.

“My darling, I know you surely miss the life you had, but have I not shown you enough of what this life offers. Are you not satisfied with what I’ve given you? What more I could give. I’ll always take care of you. Don’t you want that?”

You sigh and nod almost unconsciously. You’re completely under his trance.

“Good. Now come with me.”

He takes your hand, guiding you through the palace. You intensely listen to the clapping of your collective footsteps as you pace down the hall. After a few moments the air grows cold and quiet. You hear an old iron door creek open, then slam shut as you both walk inside. Coriolanus steps behind you and takes off your blindfold. You blink and look around. The room is ghostly white, as if it’s been draped in old sheets. A chill crawls down your spine and Coriolanus soaks in your look of terror and confusion. As you look around the room, you notice a variety of statues and decor. It almost looks like it could be a dungeon or a crypt.

“What is this place?”

“This is my lab. I’m quite fond of experimenting.”

“Experimenting?”

“A habit from my school days. I used to study under Dr. Volumnia Gaul. She would always have something new she was working on. Especially during the Hunger Games season.”

“Oh-“ you gasp

He pauses and watches you as you walk around the room. You are immediately drawn to the back where a tall statue of a woman sitting, draped in a veil, and holding a skull. You recognize the stone as marble, feeling haunted by its stillness. At the base lies a bouquet of faded pink flowers, not quite as white as the ones in the garden. These flowers almost look dead, but still have a bit of life left. Next to her, a row of glass cabinets. You glance at them and inside is a variety of test tubes, flasks, and cylinders. Upon a closer look, some of the test tubes are filled up with what appears to be crystals, rocks, some mushrooms, butterfly wings, spider legs, and other dead bugs. You grimace and look away. Next to the tubes are a variety of silver tools hung up on the wall. A variety of scissors, knives, and scapulas, which are all polished and reflect back at you.

You turn around and look at the other side of the room. Another statue stands tall. Another veiled woman, like a bride, holding out her own stone bouquet. At her base, a skull with a snake weaving out of the eye socket and through the mouth. Feeling slightly terrified, you look away and immediately your eyes fall upon the shelves littered with small animal bones, skulls, more jars of dead insects, gems, jewelry, and coins. Everything seems to have its place. Then you glance over to Coriolanus, standing as still as the statues. He watches you intensely with a sly smile across his face.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Without a word, he walks over to one of his glass cases and opens it. He pulls out a small vial filled with a dark red liquid.

“I have a new concoction. I made my first sample yesterday.” He holds the vial up delicately in his hand.

Your eyes widen and you give him a puzzling look.

“What is it?”

“Well based on the ingredients, a wave of euphoria, a calming sensation throughout your whole body. Similar to the chocolate I gave you, but more long lasting and with a bit more visuals…”

“Visuals?” You question

“Yes, normal everyday things may look more interesting, more intense. You’ll be fine of course. I’ll be hear, watching after you.”

“W-why do you want me to try?”

“Because, I think you’d like this. It heightens your sensations in a way I think will be good for you….”

“So you’re using me as a test subject.”

“No. I always try it on myself first if I can, and then…I like to share.”

“And what happens if I say…no…” you hesitate

He looks at you with confusion, striding over to you. His eyes never leave your own as a chill creeps down your spine. He pauses, his face inches away from your own. He tucks a hair behind your ear and kisses you gently. He pulls back, hand caressing your chin.

“Then you say no…” he kisses you again quickly. He holds the vial up to you, looking at it like it’s a delicious treat. You look at him then the vial. In a moment of pure impulse, you take it from his fingers. He abruptly turns to face you, and you make full eye contact with him, sipping the red liquid. The taste is so strong, and warm. As it slides down your throat it almost burns your esophagus like acid and you hold back a cough. He gazes upon you in awe, smirking at you, eyeing you

“Good girl”

“H-how long until the effects kick in?”

“About thirty to forty five minutes. We will stay here for now.”

You nod and slowly lean into his lips. This time you kiss him. It’s slow, graceful, and unexpected. Coriolanus revels in it, he loves that you are starting to love him back. He chuckles to himself and pulls back.

“I love when you kiss me and mean it. I love that you want me.”

“It comforts me in a way. To have formed a relationship with you. Even though you…you..”

“Stole you away?” He finishes your sentence

You nod and look away. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

“But you’ve seen what I can offer you. Haven’t you. You can’t resist it. You can’t resist me. Can you?”

You nod slowly as he captures your lips in a fierce manner. You can barely breathe as his lips move against yours. You welcome it all the same. His aggression. His passion. He wants to consume you. Own you. And he does.

“You love it…don’t you..”

“Y-Y-yes, this has truly been the most luxurious and cared for I’ve felt in my life.”

“Good, as it should be.” He resumes his lips, consuming your own. You and him stay like this for a while. Passionately clinging to each other's lips. His hands move to clutch your hips and he eventually pulls back again to look at you.

“How do you feel?”

You take a moment to look at your surroundings. Things feel normal. Until they don’t. The room looks different. The lights feel more intense, and then when you stare too long, things begin to swirl. Only slightly. Only enough to make you intrigued by what was seemingly normal surroundings. Everything has become the most interesting thing that you could look at right now. As you continue to look around the room, looking at the various glass cabinets, lab experiments, everything, even the statues, seems to move. As if they are growing and swirling in the space around you. Time feels like it slows down and your immediate reaction is to smile at it all. Something about the way the room moves makes you giggle, and feel light.

“Good” you nod

“You’re starting to feel the effects aren’t you”

“I-I think so yes…”

“Good. It made me feel curious. Do you feel curious?”

You nod and he grabs your chin again.

“Speak up”

“Yes, Coriolanus, it makes me feel good. I feel curious as well.”

“Let me give you a tour of the lab now that you’re in the right mindset.”

He takes your hand and walks you around his lab. He tells you about the various experiments, tools, and ingredients that he uses. Even in this state, you can see how passionate he is. How much he enjoys talking about this side of himself, sharing it with you specifically. And just as he told you, you do find yourself curious in a new way under the influence of the concoction. Everything that you observe feels as though it has its own personality and yet somehow it’s all connected to the other experiments and the whole room. You can’t really explain it.

Then he takes you over to another set of cabinets. Only this time. They are locked behind an iron cage, painted white to match everything else in the room. He pulls a key from his pocket. Coriolanus unlocks the cabinet and behind the doors are rows and rows of vials similar to the one that he showed you, except each one is labeled differently. They are all different colors as well, ranging from red to purple to green and even midnight black. Yet, one vial sticks out to you in particular. It’s as clear as the glass that contains it and for a second, you’re not even sure that there’s anything in it. Upon further inspection, you can see the rim of liquid that fills to the top just below the cork. It intrigues and entices you. You wonder what it is. Coriolanus, picks up on your curiosity.

“I called that one liquid death”

“Liquid death?” you ask

“Yes, it took me a while to finally come up with the perfect concoction, especially to make it appear as it does. I wanted to make something that was hidden in plain sight so that when one's… enemies need to be… eliminated… They would never know what is coming. So, I was able to create a tasteless, colorless, concoction that can take ones…problems out in an instant.” He explains

You look at him with a hit of fear, then you smile and giggle.

“That’s so smart, Coriolanus.” But you only half mean it

He smiles back, giddy at your excitement. Meanwhile, in the back of your mind the sound of freedom rings again. This could be your answer. You could poison him and be free. How would you get to it though, how would you get back here without him knowing? And how would you get the key to the lab? Is it the same key as the one to open this cabinet? Your thoughts shift as he takes your hand again leading you out of the room. He locks up the cabinet quickly. You still feel the effects of the concoction he gave and as he pulls you away you look back one last time at the lab. You look at the silver key, in his hand, but only for a brief moment before he stops to stand in front of you. He pulls the blindfold out of his pocket and wraps it around your eyes as he slips the key into his pocket. You try to commit the key to memory, the shine, the shape. It’s the same one he used for the cabinet, and he uses it now to close up the lab.

“Let’s go to the garden. I think you’ll like it under this state.”

When you arrive at the garden, he takes the blindfold off and you feel the cool air hit your face. You look out onto the familiar white roses. As you walk around, taking a closer look, they appear to swirl and dance. You let out a small laugh of disbelief and amazement.

“You like it?” He asks

You nod and he takes your hand. He guides you around and even though you’ve become quite familiar, it feels like a whole new experience.

“So how long will the effects last?” You ask

“About another hour, then you’ll feel normal, well almost normal.”

“What does that mean?” You question

“Well, when I took it I felt…needy for you after.”

“Needy for me?”

“Mhmm…but you were modeling so I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Oh…” you say plainly

“So..” he kisses your knuckles. “I do hope you will join me in my bedroom tonight.”

And just like that he switches the flip. You blush, and feel vulnerable to his charm. You let out a soft, innocent. laugh and look away.

“I thought that was a given”

“Well my dear, I hope you know, you always have a choice. And it seems like you keep choosing me…”

You gaze back up at him, smiling slightly. You lean up and kiss him. This time you make it soft and sweet. You slowly move your lips against his, letting him savor you. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer to him. After one last soft kiss he leans back and sighs.

“You’re so much different than the others. You want to escape, but don’t. Yet, you don’t praise me in the way the others conceded. And even then, some part of you cares about me. Do you realize how perfect you are?”

“I-I don’t think I’m perfect.”

“You are for me…I always wanted to find someone who could challenge me in a way. You are so curious to me. Do you know how many times the girls I’ve had stay here, try to run away the next day. Or how many times they gave in, thinking that I would choose them and let them have their lives back. But you, you just wait, wait to see what my next move will be and you’ve grown to become fond of me.”

He kisses your cheek.

“I know you do want your life back, I know this isn’t how you envisioned yourself, but it’s growing on you. I can see.”

“You are much kinder than I would have thought given how you…”

“Like to take what isn’t mine.” He finishes your sentence

You nod. He brushes your hair behind your ear and smiles. He gives you a quick kiss, then steps back to look at you fully.

“So, as I said, I hope to see you in my chambers tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and walks away. As he does, you watch him. When he returns inside, two guards come out. They stay at the top of the stairs, yet you know they aren’t just guarding the building. You sigh and look around at the garden.

Everything is still swirling and swimming around you. You glance up at the stars and gasp. The twinkling lights look as if they glitter in the sky. You are in awe and aren’t sure how long you stand to look, but eventually you get cold and tired. As you walk in, the effect of the concoction begins to wear off and you feel less sleepy than you expect. Instead, just as Coriolanus predicted, you get extremely needy. You haven’t felt this on edge in years and you Immediately think of Coriolanus's tongue soaking your pussy. As you make your way inside, the guards stop you.

“Do you wish to sleep in your chamber’s or the President’s tonight?”

“President Snow’s” you answer simply.

꧁🝮꧂

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[spread4marvel]

Patience

I couldn’t decide between Bucky or Loki on this one but I ended up going with Loki so hope yall like it. (i’m also in a huge writing block so if u wanna send me a request feel free🤗)

You and Loki have been together for a few decades now in Asgard, which is still fairly new, but the two of you are far more comfortable with each other. Therefore, Loki had always been one to tease and edge you in public, and tonight, you were determined to make things different.

TW: Heavy smut, slight spelling errors, Breeding kink, dirty talk, and edging in a public area

”You’re not wearing green.”

Loki stated as you walked out of the closet to reveal your outfit to him. You stifled a smirk as his eyes got slightly low and dark, he could see right through your mischief. He was the god of if, after all.

“You don’t like it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

You bat your eyelashes at him, trying to act innocent, as if you didn’t plan this out. He furrows his brow before a wolfish grin plays on his face, he hums. With a snap of his fingers your dress begins to fade into a beautiful emerald shade of green. You sarcastically huff as his smirk grows wider, coming closer to entangle his arm with yours.

“You can’t just turn all of my gowns green.” You state, he can’t help but chuckle lowly as a response. “Ahh, i’m aware, My dear. Unfortunately for you, I can’t seem to help myself.” He replies playfully, smiling down at you. Your height difference is obscene, even in heels. A silence falls over the two of you for a moment, then you decide to break it. “I believe we should start walking now.” You said, cocky and teasing at the fact that he had been staring at you for the last few minutes of silence. He didn’t respond for a moment, finally, you realized what he was staring at.

“You are breathtaking, am I not allowed to bathe in My Wife’s beauty?” He asks, more rhetorically as he fiddles with your golden necklace. The initial ‘L’ on it shining brightly in the light. “You’ll be rewarded for this darling.” He says, dropping the necklace as it retreats back to your collar. His voice lower and brooding. You can feel your pussy practically soar with excitement as you tried to ignore the new found wake in between your thighs. “I-I believe your father will be displeased if we wait a second later.” You remind, trying to distract yourself from your newfound arousal. He smirks, reading your body so well as he notices your change in demeanor, but he doesn’t dare say another word as the two of you begin to walk, arms entangled together.

—————————————————————

So far, your plan had been going extremely well. You hadn’t been avoiding Loki all night, naturally you could never stray too far from your husband, but you had been coming up to him to subtly brush your body against his and then whisper filth in his ear before retreating to go mingle with other guests of the palace. He was, naturally, amused and sexually frustrated by your successful attempts of teasing.

Unfortunately for you, it was time to be seated for the speech that Thor had prepared. Since you were apart of the royal family, you and Loki sat alone at one table together. Naturally, Odin and Frigga followed suit, also sitting at their own table alone. Which meant, Loki could finally get his payback, now you felt a hand slowly creeping up your thigh. You look over at him before turning your attention back to the speech.

“L-Loki… what if someone sees you?” You whisper lowly to him, a dark chuckle graces your ear as a response, his fingers are hooked onto your inner thigh, so close to where you need him. “I think that would do wonders for my imagine, don’t you? Loving husband attentively tending to his needy wife, sounds quite heroic of me.” He replies, as cocky as ever. You roll your eyes at him, a slight scoff fleeing from your lips lowly. He can’t help but smirk.

“Besides, My dear, what if someone saw what you’ve done to me.” He continues, his voice is low and velvet smooth. A deep timber rumbling through his tone as he mumbles in your ear. You look at him, innocent confusion playing on your features. Still, it’s a great enough effect to remind you of the pool forming eagerly between your thighs.

“I have no clue what you mean.” You try innocently, he sees right through you and you know it.

“Liar. If you wish to be a tease, let me show you what all your teasing has wrought.”

His words seems to fall gracefully from his lips. You turn your head slightly before redirecting yourself back to the speech no one seemed to be listening to. Loki gently grabbed your hand, guiding it in between his thighs until you reached his rock-hard erection through his pants. You gasp slightly, quiet enough for no one to hear besides your husband. “Gods Loki…” You grip the girth of his cock deliciously, causing his breathing to spike for a moment. Fighting the groan that threatens to fall from his lips. He straightens his back, composing himself once more as he doesn’t seem to push your hand away.

“You feel that? That is the consequences of your actions, my dear. I hope you know how to finish what you’ve started.” He reminds you, your smirk grows wider. You remove your hand from his aching cock, which reminds you of the hand of his that is currently pressing against your soaked panties. “I wouldn’t be too smug darling, it seems your greedy cunt is no better.” He whispers darkly, you blush at the mentions of your dampness, your smirk quickly turning to a playful scowl as Thor finally seemed to finish.

—————————————————————

It was now time for one of Asgards many traditions, the ballroom dance. You partnered yourself with Loki as he swayed you to the rhythms of the music. He twirled you gracefully before pulling you back into his arms. You took your opportunity and slightly rubbed your ass against his crotch subtly. Loki groaned in your ear before spinning you around and dipping you. “Naughty girl.” He growled to you, you couldn’t help but giggle before he pulled you back up and the two of you swayed more.

“Oh, you liked that hmm?”

You tease him in his ear as he brings you close before twirling you away once more. He’s glaring at you with his dark bedroom eyes as he brings you close once more. “You’re playing a deadly game, little girl. It would be a shame if I bent you over right now and made you moan for me in front of everyone.” He muses back, you can’t help but feel a new wave of arousal crash over you due to his manipulation, he can tell by the way you struggle to retort a reply. The ache between your thighs is only growing more unbearable as the two of you danced.

“Oh I think that would do wonders for my image.” You remark breathlessly, teasingly quoting his exact words. You can tell he’s about to make you regret your fierceness and just as he’s about to have his way with you, the song ends. You smile as he pulls you close one final time. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” He whispers darkly, before you both pull away and resume the party. Starting to rethink your decisions but you can’t help but be thrilled by what’s to come.

—————————————————————

The night had finally unwinded so the two of you gave your remarks to family and then begin the walk to your shared chambers. Lokis hand is rest possessively on your lower back as the two of you walk. Suddenly, you hear Thors booming voice calling after Loki, you huff knowingly. “Wait Loki!” He tries, Loki rolls his eyes and groans. “Wait in the room for me darling, spread with nothing on.” He commands, you nod as he sends you off, leaving himself behind to negotiate with Thor.

You hum as you pull your clothes off, just as he had requested. You know Loki was gonna be even more pent-up, but so were you. You thought about touching yourself, making yourself cum instead of waiting. Your aching cunt was practically begging you too, but you wanted to be good for him. Loki doesn’t take fairly long to return to you, in fact, he’s back in mere minutes. As soon as he shuts the door he’s onto you. With just three long strides across the vast palace chambers he has made it over to your body in a haste.

He lays you down on your back as he throws one of your legs onto his shoulder putting your bare arousal on display for him. “Oh darling I can practically smell your wet cunt, did you touch yourself while I was away?” He asked as his breath ghosts on your eager cunt. He already knows the answer, but he’s prone to making you say what he wants to hear. “N-No Loki I didn’t…” You answer truthfully, to which Loki replies “Good girl.” Loki hums lowly as he licks one long stripe through your ripe pussy. Groaning as he eagerly began to eat out your cunt with practiced precision.

You moaned as you felt his lips latch onto your arousal, whimpering slightly as you threw your head back into the pillow in pleasure. You simply adored the feeling of Loki’s silver-tongue on you, and he was smugly aware of that. “Mm you make such pretty noises for me darling, I intend to make you scream until that pretty voice is hoarse.” He explained as he lifted his head from between your thighs to tease you, you whine slightly at the missed connection, he smirked at that little noise as he found himself returning back to your pussy eagerly.

One orgasm leads to the next and you find your mind hazy and dumbfucked by Loki who had yet to stop eating your cunt. “Do you even know how much you’ve came for me?” He asked rhetorically as he lifted his head from yet another orgasm, his hair was ruffled and your cum was smeared around his lips as he gave you those low eyes. It was the most remarkable sight you could’ve thought of and the sight alone made you whimper longingly. He didn’t need a response, he let silence flow for a moment as he planted hickeys and kisses to your inner thighs silently. Either way, he was quite sure you couldn’t even fathom a response. But he knew you loved to hear his voice brewing your arousal and so he continued with his torture.

“I figured you didn’t, Love. I made sure of it. You know dearest, an Asgardian prince is too not pleasure their lover with their tongue? I always found the rule silly, like many others, don’t you dear?” He asked with a smug grin, clearly enjoying his affect on you, he doesn’t plan to stop yet. He intends to continue to pull orgasms until he feels as if ‘you’re ready’ for him. You whine in agreement, panting heavily. “y-yes my prince, I-I do…” You manage to get out, the ache between your legs seemingly missing Loki’s tongue.

“I would hope so, wife.”

He purrs knowingly as he returns his tongue back to your clit, beginning his beautiful torture again. Attentively, you buck your hips on his face eagerly. He groans in pleasure, loving the feeling of your evident desperate state. He buries his tongue in your pussy as he licks a clean stripe up your clit deliciously causing you another orgasm. He smirks at the quickness of this one, he knows you’re ready now. Eagerly, he licks up your remaining cum before pulling himself from your pussy to undress.

He takes his time with this one, peeling his clothes piece by piece in a teasing fashion. You know if he wanted to, he could make it all disappear with a flick of his hand, but instead he intends to tease you. “Don’t be a tease Loki, it’s not a good color on you.” You remind, he quirks an eyebrow at you with a smirk as he finishes with his final article of clothing before climbing on top of your writhing body.

“Oh, truly love you wound me. Plus, we’re both aware of the dishonesty that leave your lips. But please my dear, Dic mihi satis mendacium.” (Tell me more pretty lies) He purrs deliciously in your ear, you groan as his Latin graces its way to your ears. He could be saying anything in the world to you, but when he speaks it with that accent in that tone you simply can’t resist the feeling of being wet. You direct your hand to his hard cock, giving him two strokes as you bore into his eyes before removing you hand.

“P-please Loki… n-need you too fill me…” You plead, the ache between your thighs growing harder to resist as you fall back to begging him. He smirks as he lines himself up with your entrance. Beginning to push his thick cock into your wet pussy. The two of you seem to groan together in sync as he allows you to adjust yourself. Finally, he pulls his cock fully out before slamming it back into your cunt. He continues his ruthless pace as he pounds into you deliciously. You moan loudly in pleasure, shamelessly. He continues his pace as you feel his cock slightly stutter before pushing all the way back into you as you feel his cock graze your G-spot.

Instantly, you cum all over his cock. He smirks as he doesn’t seem to stop pounding into you. “That was awfully quick, Wife.” He teases you, you couldn’t care enough as you moan again, you can feel his cock hardening in your cunt. You’re sure he’s bound to cum soon, but he wants to make you cum another time before he spills his seed. “Think I could pull another one from you? Come on love let me feel you.” He encourages, you whimper slightly, with a few more thrusts you find yourself close again, you moan as you try to communicate. “F-fuck im so close!! D-don’t stop Loki.” You convey as you find yourself cumming once more.

His cock is practically soaked with your juices as he finally begins to drawl close. He grunts and groans breathlessly. “I’m so close amare (Love) I’m gonna cum all i-inside you… would you like that? mmmphh… g-gonna let me plant my heir in you? You would look even more beautiful with my seed growing inside of you.” He rumbles, his timber voice affecting you heavily as he talks about breeding you. You moan at the thought. “Y-yes please!” You practically shout, your voice hoarse just as he had promised as he finally releases. Spilling his hot semen inside of you with a groan.

The two of you pant together and lie intertwined for a couple of moments. Embracing each other warmly. He pulls out lovingly, planting kisses to your collarbone as he does. He grabs you a warm rag as he cleans you both up and plants kisses to your skin. A snap of his fingers and the sheets are clean and warm for the two of you.

“Goodnight, My love.” He whispers to you one last time as he presses his final kiss to your forehead before joining you in the bed together, interlinked.

_____________________________________

Sorry if I missed with this one😓, It’s my first time writing smut so I hoped you enjoyed and maybe drop me a request!!

[roseghoul26]

Part 2

Javier Escuella x femVirgin!Reader

Synopsis: You and Javier are to attend a party in Saint Denis, hoping to rob the owner of the establishment. Your role is to distract the man while Javier sneaks up to his room, stealing bonds rumored to be worth a good bit. The only problem is, the two of you are pretending to be husband and wife, which would be fine if you weren’t completely in love with the man. Will you be able to muster up the courage to finally confess to him, or will your personal anxieties hold you back from getting what you want?

Tags: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, fem!Reader, reader is described to have longer hair but that’s about it, reader is afraid of intimacy, but like still wants it, unwanted touch (not from javier), unwanted sexual advances (not from javier), non consensual touching (not from javier), basically any noncon stuff is not done by javier, degrading language towards women, first kiss, love confessions, virgin reader, not beta read, angst, unsafe sex

Author’s Note: i realized while writing this that the song “Slut!” by taylor works so well with fic, and i was going to change the title to a lyric from it but i already committed to this title

also, this is the part that contains non consensual themes, but there is not actually assault that happens. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something like that, please skip this fic!

part 1 ❉ part 2

If you had to laugh at one more awful joke, and to continue pretending like you were oh so interested in the history of a family’s company, you were going to hurt someone. You were thankful for Javier’s charm, letting him take the lead in most of the conversations, but you could tell that even he was getting exhausted. 

It had been about an hour and a half since the two of you arrived, spending most of your time mingling with the other guests, blending into the crowd as you awaited an opportunity to speak with Lee. But he was apparently a very important man, constantly being whisked away by other people before you could even approach him. He was constantly moving between floors, meaning that even you had to get his attention for a good while to allow Javier a chance to get into his room.

The two leaned side by side at the bar now, each of you nursing a small glass of some brandy. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you observed the crowd with disinterested eyes. Lee was currently in conversation with two other men, and he had been for the last ten minutes. 

Your feet were aching, and the corset was tiring, but it did its job as a distraction. More often than not, you watched men’s eyes roam over your body as Javier talked, and they seemed more eager to answer his questions and engage, if you didn't have a bit longer to look at you. It made you feel disgusted, but you could handle it for a night. But, thankfully, no one had laid their hands on you, mainly because your ‘husband’ was beside you most of the night.

The man beside you bent towards your ear, voice barely audible over the sounds of the party. “Are you doing alright?”

You smiled half-heartedly. “I’m ready to be done.”

“You and me both,” he chuckled dryly. 

“I will say, it’s much more bearable because of you.”

He didn’t respond, but he pulled you in closer. Because his arm was across your shoulders, he had access to exposed skin, and you felt him lightly dance his fingers across it. It felt quite nice, and you felt yourself begin to unwind. 

That was until you watched from across the room as Arthur raised his hands up, in a heated disagreement with another man. You nudged Javier, gesturing over to Arthur with a nod. “I swear, we can’t bring him anywhere.”

Javier laughed. “That we can’t. I’ll be right back, mi amor.” Kissing the top of your head, he removed himself from you, and you felt cold at the lack of contact.You already missed his hands on you, and despite what you believed, the growing fire inside of you didn’t cool down at all when he stopped touching you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? As he made his way toward the cowboy, you heard him begin to defuse the situation; his honeyed words could cool down even the most aggravated people.

As you watched, trying and failing to keep your eyes off the way his hips swayed as he walked, a new presence made themselves known beside you, on the opposite side of where Javier once stood. Taking a sip of your drink, you glanced up at the new figure, nearly choking on your drink when you saw who it was. 

“You enjoyin’ the party, ma’am?”

“I am, Mr. Reginald.” Time to turn on the charm. “The name’s Anna. Anna Howard.” You extended a hand towards him, which he took. He kissed the back of your hand, and you were successful in fighting the urge to pull it away. You were able to get a closer look at him, pretending to look interested in him as you did so. He was older, probably around Hosea’s age, with a scrappy white beard that scratched against your skin even through the glove. His longer hair was slicked back, and he had almost unsettling blue eyes that didn’t even bother to look into yours. His white skin was blotched with red, his cheeks ruddy with drink.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman,” he murmured as he straightened, flashing you a smile that you figured was supposed to be appealing. His teeth were partially rotten, and looked the color of turmeric, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. But he didn’t let go of your hand. “And you can just call me Lee.”

Pushing back your disgust, you smiled back at him. “A pleasure, Lee. You really know how to throw a marvelous party.”

Disregarding your compliment, you watched his eyes flick to Javier, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Is that your husband?”

Following his eyes, you watched as Javier escorted the man that Arthur was arguing with away, but his eyes were on you, an unspoken question in his eyes. Am I good to sneak away? What you didn’t notice was the barely restrained anger, jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched what was unfolding. You nodded, both at Javier and Lee, and you turned your attention away from Javier. “He is,” you laced your words with disappointment, and you could tell he heard it. “Married for two years.”

Before you could react, you felt the hand still grasping yours rip your glove away, a pleased grin on his face as he examined your hand. You let out a shocked gasp, which he took at you enjoying what he just did, his grin turning even larger. “I thought I didn’t feel a ring.”

“Don’t tell him,” you winked. He let go of your hand, shaking his head with a smile while handing you back your glove, which you slipped back on. You were killing this man in your mind, but you forced your face to seem flustered.

“Any children?”

You shook your head. “It ain’t for a lack of tryin’, though.” You laughed, and he joined in as well. He has still yet to make eye contact with you, eyes practically glued to the rest of your body. Pushing your chest forward, you watch his gross eyes widen. Grabbing your clutch from under your arm, you reapplied the rouge, and for once you watched his eyes flick to your face. Popping your lips, you tucked the rouge away, and you saw how he tracked every movement of yours. You had him right where you wanted him. Now you just needed to give Javier about fifteen to twenty minutes, then he’d be whisking you away, Arthur in tow, and then you’d never have to see this man again.

“I’m surprised your husband let you go out in somethin’ like this,” you felt him run the back of his hand against the bodice of your dress, running just under the cup of your breasts. You stiffened under his touch, but you were thankful that his body language comprehension was absolutely terrible, because he seemed to think you were liking it. You saw Arthur begin to approach the two of you, but he stayed close enough away to not interfere with what was happening, but he was ready to do anything if things went south. 

“Actually, he chose it for me, for tonight.”

“So he likes parading his wife around, like she’s a whore.” 

His words had your blood turning cold, your heartbeat hammering in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to tear yourself away. You steeled yourself, trying to not seem as affected as you were. “Whatever makes him happy.”

He laughed at that. “You like it, no?”

“I-”

“You like havin’ everyone else’s eyes on you, don’t you. I mean, you were practically pushing your tits to my face a moment ago. You that desperate for attention, huh? Your husband not givin’ you enough?” You wanted to roll your eyes. For the love of…

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you began to cry, a neat little trick you could pull out whenever you felt like it. “Old habits are hard to break, you know?” You elaborated more. “I used to offer my services to men… that’s how we met. He used to be so sweet.” You laughed bitterly. “But, ever since we got married, he hasn’t been treatin’ me right, always seeing’ other women, comin’ home late, and…” you took a moment to breathe, letting a tear escape from your eye, no doubt smuggling the kohl around it. “And he’s left me so unsatisfied. I wish I never married him!” You were playing into exactly what he wanted to hear, and he was hanging on to every word you said.

He cooed at you, demeaning in every sense of the word. “You poor thing,” his hand tugged at your waist, pulling you into him. 

You tried to push him away, arguing that he might see, but he chuckled. “Look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably got his hands on another woman right now. Isn’t that terrible?” He pulled you in close to him with a hand on your hip, and you shuddered.

You nodded, looking around for Javier. Just as he had said, he was gone, and you were content with that, the job going smoothly. “What kinda woman am I, who can’t keep her own husband loyal to her?”

“It’s not your fault, sweet thing. I’m not sure how any man could be unfaithful to a beautiful thing like you…” both hands now wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into him. His lips tickled your ear as he whispered to you, and you held back a gag at the stench. “How ‘bout I show you how a real man treats his woman.” You couldn’t even respond before he was pulling you towards one of the stairs by your hand. He had an iron grip on you, and you found yourself unable to pull away. Glancing behind you, you saw Arthur trying to follow you, but he was stopped by a group that were claiming very loudly that they knew him, getting more and more aggressive by the minute. He looked understandably panicked, eyes not leaving you as he tried to push through the group surrounding him. You mouthed I’m alright, despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm you. 

“Right now?” You sounded calm, much to your surprise. He nodded, not even looking back at you. “What about the party?”

“It’ll be there when we’re done.”

Shit. It had only been about seven minutes since the two of you had started talking, not nearly enough time for Javier to be done. And if he was taking you to his room, that’ll probably be where the bonds are located, and, in turn, where Javier would be currently trying to rob him. So much for the job going smoothly. 

But you didn’t want to raise suspicion, so you went along with Lee, keeping as much distance away from his as you could. He kept his iron grip, nearly causing you to stumble up the stairs, your shoes catching on the carpet. His hands were so much worse than Javier’s, demanding and harsh; the hands belonged to someone who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

When you reached the top floor, you let your facade drop slightly, looking around for some exit. Every door looked the same, a deep mahogany, and the hallway seemed to extend to infinity as he marched down it. A thin rug extended down the center of the floor, and so you tried your hardest to walk along the hardwood floor, praying that Javier would hear the approaching noise of your heels. 

Wordlessly, he suddenly halted in front of one of the doors, opening it quickly, pulling you in forcefully. It was at that point you were debating screaming. Would someone come help you? Would they be able to even hear you over the party? Lee was not a large man by any means, old and scrawny, but he still had the upper hand right now. And you didn’t know if he had any weapons on him, and you weren’t too keen on finding out. 

The room, thankfully, was devoid of any other people besides you and Lee. He finally let go of your wrist, and you snatched it close to you, rubbing at the hurt skin. He stepped further into the room, passing by a large closet and dresser that housed a washbin before reaching the bed. Keeping his back turned to you, he slowly began to undress. Now, you debated running out the door behind you. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to get far, your shoes and dress restricting you from moving easily.

Your mind was made, however, when you saw the closet door creak open, and you barely suppressed a surprised noise. A familiar figure stood hidden in the shadows, various jackets and garments hiding him further, and you nearly cried in relief. It was at that point you noticed the large desk and safe in the corner, your theory that his bonds would be in his room being right. Javier tried to exit, but you stopped him with a panicked look. One slight turn from Lee and he would see. Even in the dark, you could see the conflict on his face, and you held up a finger, telling him to wait. He nodded, and you saw the glint of a blade, which helped to ease your worries. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Lee’s gruff voice made you jump, and you turned your attention back to him. He still had his back to you, working off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his jacket discarded on the bed. 

You didn’t dignify him with a response, making your way to the large window that faced the streets of Saint Denis. It was partially open, a cool night’s breeze tickling your skin. “Don’t think about jumping,” you heard him try to joke, but it came out more as a threat. He had sat on the bed as you approached the window, and you heard the wooden frame creak as he got up. You retrieved the hidden blade from your clutch, pulling off the fake comb top. It was a tiny little thing, a needle compared to the hunting knife you saw Javier frequently use, but it could cause some damage if need be. 

Holding it to your chest, your breathing slowed as you heard him approach, floorboards creaking with each slow step. “I’ll make sure you get paid after this.”

“I said I was a working girl.”

He scoffed. “Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” He took another step towards you. “Get on the bed.”

With the assurance that Javier was also in the room, you found yourself surprisingly confident, shaking your head at his question. That pissed him off, and you could feel the anger beginning to roll off of him. Still, you faced away from him, gripping the blade so tightly that your fingers ached.

“It wasn’t a question. Get on the bed.”

“And I said no.”

In surprising swiftness, you felt his fingers grasp at the back of your neck, and you figured he would’ve gone for your hair if it wasn’t pinned up. His fingers had merely grazed your skin before you were spinning around, the blade flying at his face with unrestrained fury. A streak of crimson cut through the air as you hit your mark, the blade running across the entire side of his face, barely missing his eye by a quarter of an inch. He stumbled back a few feet, shocked, clutching the side of his face. 

Blood poured from his fingers, and he looked up at you with hate in his eyes. “You whore! C’mere!” Lee attempted to lunge for you, but was easily stopped Javier wrapped his hand around the face of the man, muffling him as he pulled him down to the ground. His knife pressed into the delicate skin of his neck, pressing so hard that droplets of blood began to appear. A shocked noise that turned into a muffled noise left Lee’s mouth, turning into a cry when Javier dug the knife in deeper. A satisfied smirk graced his lips when he heard Lee reduced to a whimpering mess, and his blazing eyes found yours. 

Ignoring your desire, you sighed in relief, and you let your arms loosen, the blade falling to your side. “What do you want to do with him, mi amor?” Javier sounded almost breathless, and you watched as the blood from Lee’s wound began to coat Javier’s hand. 

A part of you wanted to see him dead on the floor, but you refrained yourself. “Let him live,” was all you said, not bothering to give an explanation, not that you had one; you just didn't want him to die. 

Not yet, that is.

Letting out a sigh that almost sounded like disappointment, Javier adjusted his blade so that it was no longer completely digging into Lee’s skin. “You’re lucky that I listen to what she tells me, cabrón. If she wasn’t here, you’d be long dead. You know what…” Javier moved his hand so that it no longer covered his mouth, but he kept his blade where it was, ready to move if he decided to make a noise. “Why don’t you tell her how thankful you are that she spared your miserable life?”

Lee took a few shuddering breaths, tears mixing in with the blood that streaked down his face. “T-Thank you,” he rushed out, eyes squinting closed as he braced himself for the final blow from Javier.

“And…”

“And?” Lee practically squawked. 

“You said some pretty nasty things to her. Maybe you ought to apologize.” You watched Javier’s jaw clench as he recalled the small bit he heard, and it was evident that he was using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just end Lee then and there. If he knew what all was said to you, then Lee would be lifeless right now.

“I’m sorry!” Lee cried out, and Javier gave an approving noise in response. You couldn’t care less if he apologized to you. Quite honestly, it was much more rewarding watching Javier force the man into submission. You realized watching him like this was turning you on, growing increasingly warmer despite the cold air from the window. 

You needed to speak to a doctor. Or a priest. 

“Very good,” Javier praised, his voice gravelly. “Now that that’s out of the way.” With ease, you watched him flip the knife around his fingers, now holding it in a way that allowed him to bash the butt of it against Lee’s head. He fell to the ground like a sack, body hitting floor with a thud. 

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, too many emotions running through your body. Anxiety still persisted in your brain, reminiscing over all the what ifs and scenarios that could have transpired if Javier hadn’t been in the room. You were grateful that he was here, and there was that feeling in your chest again, increasing with every beat of your heart. And much to your surprise and embarrassment, you found yourself aroused, every fiber of your being needing Javier.

He stood in front of you know, deep concern in his eyes as he regarded you. You watched as he raised his hands up, ready to wrap his arms around you, until he saw the blood on his hand, and realized you wouldn’t want to be touched right now. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Without saying anything, you placed the blade back into your clutch, not bothering to recover it back up. You grabbed the handkerchief instead, and you felt his eyes on you as you grasped his wrist gently with your other hand, pulling it towards you. He had his jacket on still, which did enough to hide the blood that stained his clothes, but a few specks still dotted the white sleeves of his shirt that poked out.

Pulling him toward the wash bin, you dipped the handkerchief into the water before you got to work on wiping away his skin. He tried to protest, but you cut him off with a gentle yet firm look.Javier set his blade on the dresser, and the two of you stood in silence, the only sound your breathing and the occasional splash of water as you redipped the handkerchief into it. The water turned from clear to a rusty brown as you worked, which you watched with rapt attention, scared of how you would react when you looked into his eyes. 

As you dipped it into the water for the final time, Javier finally spoke, his voice still a bit raspy. “Guess you don’t need those knife lessons, then.”

You chuckled, setting the rag down on the dresser as it turned into a loud laughter that shook your body. You weren’t quite sure why you were responding like this, but you figured it was probably shock. You didn’t even register that you were crying until you felt his freshly cleaned hands rest on the sides of your face tentatively, growing more confident when you nodded your consent. He murmured your name softly, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Mierda, sorry. It was a bad joke…”

“It was funny,” you said through tears. “It’s just… God, I felt so weak. I haven’t felt that scared since… forever.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

You shook your head, mouth opening to respond, but a fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm you. Not trusting yourself to speak, you practically crashed yourself against his chest. Javier cried out softly, startled, as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in close in a tight hug. His familiar scent helped to calm you, and when you felt him reciprocate the hug, strong arms tight around you, you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You're sure your makeup was running on to his jacket, but it didn’t matter now; it was already dirty. 

His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, and he rested his head on top of yours. You're not sure if he held you for a few moments or a few hours, time seemingly nonexistent beyond the two of you. But of course, reality was quick to catch up with you, the sound of the door being kicked down hardly pulling you from his embrace as you spun around, grabbing the knife on the dresser before Javier could.

Arthur stood in the doorway with his hands up, eyes flicking from the knife in your hands to the man unconscious on the floor, quickly connecting the dots. “Don’t do that shit, Arthur,” you snapped, practically slamming the knife back down on the dresser. “I could’ve hurt you…”

“Are you alright?” He asked, typically not caring for his own safety. He approached you like you were a spooked horse, though, which was quickly annoying you.

“What do you think, you idiot?” A voice behind you interjected, and you felt him slide his hand across you back as he moved around you. His eyes were blazing with anger, getting into Arthur’s space. “What the hell happened?” You watched Javier shove the other man, which he took, guilt evident on his face, but you saw the angry storm clouds begin to roll in behind Arthur’s eyes. 

“You had one job, and you fucked it up!” Another shove, and you watched Arthur’s jaw clench. “You nearly got her assaulted!” Javier's voice had raised significantly in volume, emotion causing his voice to break ever so slightly as he spoke. “How did you-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur finally snapped, which was a hard thing to do. Guilt probably snipped his fuse, and the immediate attack by Javier ignited it. “You don’t think I’ve been fightin’ like hell to get up here?” He scoffed. “It ain’t my fault you asked the most recognized man in camp to tag along with y’all!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Javier challenged. “You wanna know why, then, you asshole? Because you’re the only one I trust to make sure nothing happens to her,” he snarled, jabbing his finger into Arthur’s chest. “You think Micah, or Sean, or Bill would give two shits if someone dragged her away?” He shook his head with a sneer on his mouth. Arthur didn’t respond, but his silence was all that Javier needed. He took a breath, stepping back a few paces from Arthur. 

“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, right?” Arthur’s voice was soft, which was surprising given the circumstance. “But you know she doesn’t need our constant protection, right?”

Whatever temporary peace that had been created between the two men shattered instantly, Javier getting right back into the other man’s face. “She didn’t even have a damn gun, Arthur. All she had was a tiny knife that could barely hurt a mouse. The only reason she managed to get him,” he pointed angrily at Lee, not bothering to turn his head to look at him, “was because she caught him off guard. And I know she doesn’t need my- our protection. I’ve seen her toss men double her size to the ground with ease, I’ve seen her knockout men with a single punch. I’ve seen it all.” Javier took a deep breath before continuing. “But that was when she was free to move, without having that goodman dress on. She can barely even walk, let alone defend herself tonight.”

“You stepped in before anythin’ could happen.” Arthur tried to reassure the man.

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I had been in another room, too busy robbing that bastard to even notice? What if there had been more than one guy in here? What if he drugged her, or what if I didn’t hear her approaching down the hallway?” Javier began to pace as he ranted, running his fingers through his hair, pulling part of it out of the tie.

As entertaining and endearing as it was to hear them argue about you, you were tired of being talked about like you weren’t even there. Clearing your throat gently, you got their attention, Arthur giving you an apologetic smile. Javier took a little bit longer to catch your eye, having to turn around to do so, but you watched as the fire in him immediately fizzled out as he looked at you, any anger left in his body leaving in a final shaky exhale. 

You smiled gently, folding your hands in front of you. You had taken your gloves off during their disagreement, the garments becoming wet while you cleaned Javier’s hands, and you had tucked them away into your bag. You watched as his gaze went down to your intertwined hands, a smile about to grace his own lips before it was overtaken by a shocked gasp.

Everyone’s eyes in the room followed where Javier was looking, with similar reactions across the board. Where Lee had gripped you was an already bruise in the shape of his hand, encompassing almost the entirety of your wrist. You hadn’t realized he grabbed you that hard. Looking back up, you saw an outraged look on Arthur’s face, but it was nothing compared to the sheer hatred and disgust on Javier’s. You were grateful that you still had his knife by you, or else Lee’s blood would be spilt right now. 

A combination of curses and Spanish left Javier’s lips as he pulled away from Arthur, finally giving the other man space. You expected him to make his way over to you, which he started to do, but he halted a few steps in. Confused, you cocked a brow at him, and he just shook his head, backing away backwards toward the door. “I’m gonna get the carriage,” you heard him mutter, eyes fixated on the bruise on your wrist as he continued to back away. 

“Javier-” you tried to stop him, but it was clear he wasn’t in the right headspace to listen. 

“I’ll see you in a minute, mi amor.” And with that, he left you and Arthur alone in stunned silence. 

Trying to not seem too upset, you forced a smile on your face, which probably looked as pained as it felt. “Do you think he got the bonds?” You asked, and the other man looked confused. “You know, the thing we came for?”

Recognition flashed across Arthur’s face, and he shook his head. “Don’t think so. Didn’t have enough time, probably. Why?” You briskly made your way over to the safe, getting down on your knees ready to begin cracking it open. “After all that, you’re still worried about the bonds?” Arthur asked in disbelief. 

“After all that, I ain’t returnin’ to camp empty handed. Now, tie him up for me,” you gestured at Lee, and Arthur nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, but he still complied, and you rolled your eyes before preparing yourself to get to work. You weren’t an expert at cracking safes by any means, but you could get it done with enough time. The metal was cold against your face as you pressed it against it, listening to the inner workings of the safe. You were able to see Arthur move out of the corner of your eye as you began to turn the dial slowly, listening for the telltale click. 

It was when Arthur finished tying up the man that you heard the first click, and you glanced down to see what the first digit of the code was. 

34. 

Moving the dial to the right, you felt Arthur watch you while you worked, but you paid him no mind. That was until you heard him talk, nearly causing you to jump because of how focused you were on the safe. “You know, I haven’t seen Javier that angry in years. He used to be filled with hate and anger toward the world, but it died down as the years passed.” 

You merely hummed along, not fully paying attention to his words. Another click hit your ears, and you took a mental note of the next number. 28. Arthur continued. “I’m still surprised he’s still callin’ you that, like you don’t know what it means.”

Your curious eyes flicked to him, and realization dawned on his face. He laughed with an almost childish grin. “You don’t know what it means, do ya’?”

You sighed. “No, ‘cause everytime I ask, no one tells me! Especially you! Now, hush. I’m tryin’ to concentrate.” Arthur left you alone then, and you continued to turn the dial slowly to the left, waiting to find the final digit for the safe. 

Finally, the third click rang throughout the room, the final digit being 4. The safe door creaked open, exposing its contents to you and Arthur. Inside contained a stack of papers, which you assumed to be bonds, a few clips of cash, and a small gold ingot. With a satisfactory smile, you gestured for Arthur to bring you your clutch, which he did. You pulled the gloves out, quickly slipping them back on even though they were wet. All paper items went into the bag (and you were sure to make sure the blade did not wreck them), and you took the ingot into your own hands. It always caught you off guard, how heavy gold ingots actually were. 

You stood up, heading over to the dresser and grabbing Javier’s knife while handing Arthur the gold ingot, which he stashed away. Where, you weren’t quite sure, but it disappeared from sight. You had just enough room to place the knife in your bag, the thing barely closing before you tucked it under your arm. You left the soiled handkerchief on the dresser, and you started to move towards the door before Arthur’s voice stopped you. “He’s callin’ you ‘his love’.”

“What?”

“Mi amor,” Arthur’s Spanish wasn’t even comparable to Javier’s, but it was understandable. “It translates to ‘my love’.”

You were stunned, blinking back at him with wide eyes. “You’re kiddin’ me.” Arthur shook his head. “This entire time he’s been callin’ me-” you cut yourself off, rubbing a hand down your face, being careful to not smudge the makeup completely. “So you mean to tell me, that instead of me livin’ in constant doubt about how he felt about me, I could’ve known, but you and everyone back at camp refused to tell me?”

Arthur rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, guilt once again eating away at him. He didn’t respond, so you laughed bitterly. “Now I’m startin’ to regret that I didn’t end up hurtin’ you earlier.” Huffing angrily, you didn’t spare either Arthur or the man tied up on the bed a glance, quickly reaching the door in angry strides. “C’mon. I wanna leave this damn place.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, following behind you as you marched down the hallway and back down the stairs. It was easy to slip away from the party, everyone was too drunk or too busy in conversation to notice. The silence outside was a complete shock to your system, your ears ringing loudly as you took a deep breath. 

Just like he said, Javier was waiting beside the carriage, eyes following you as you descended the stairs. It melted any cold from the night, and like in the party, you felt that need for more grow inside you. You felt Arthur move behind you, cutting across the front lawn to reach his horse. As you reached the carriage, Bill’s voice broke the silence. “You get the whiskey?”

Shit. “No, I’m sorry. Things went bad in there.”

Bill sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t speak further. “Here,” you dug out one of the clips of money, practically having to toss it at him, “it ain’t whiskey, but it’s just as good in my opinion.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up, and you knew that he accepted your new gift, tucking it away into his jacket pocket. Javier uncrossed his arms once you were within reach, once again helping you into the carriage. You could practically feel the tension from him, his entire body tightly coiled as you settled into your seat.

Again, you expected to follow in behind you, but he was quickly shutting the door. You stopped it with your hand, and he stopped immediately. “You’re not comin’ in?” Your voice was dispirited, and Javier frowned as he shook his head once. 

“You don’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Javier.” You cut him off, shocking yourself with your directness. “Get in here.”

Wordlessly, he obeyed, sitting across from you again. It looked like he had a thousand things to say, but he remained silent. Bill almost immediately took off, but you better prepared than last time, managing to not lurch forward. To say the air between the two of you was awkward would be an understatement, and you found yourself looking out the window, watching the streetlights as you passed them. 

After about a minute of silence, you saw Javier shift out of the corner of your eye, so you refocused your attention on him. “I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, barely audible over the hoofs of the horses and the sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestone. 

“Javier, you couldn’t have known that would happen,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to take his hand in yours. “And I knew that things could go bad tonight.”

“It’s not that. Well, I am sorry about that, I’m not sayin’ I’m not, but-” he paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry about the way I acted. And for talking like you weren’t right there. And for implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I’m not the one you should be apoligzin’ to,” you laughed lightly, and you felt successful when you saw a light smile on Javier. “And emotions were high tonight, and even the best of us snap sometimes. And you weren’t completely wrong about the dress,” you adjusted the bodice of said dress, trying and failing to gain more room to move.  “But, thank you. It… it means a lot.”

A lot of the tension dissipated from Javier as you accepted his apology, leaning back against the back of his seat finally. He had taken off his jacket while he was gone, leaving him only in his vest, necktie and undershirt, and the sleeves had been rolled up, hiding the splotches of blood from view. Even in the dim light, you were able to clearly see the definition of his forearms flexing against the shirt, even more so when he crossed his arms against his chest. 

Thick veins traveled down his hands and arms, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts of what those hands might be able to do to you from running through your head. It surprised you, having these thoughts. If you had had these thoughts days, or even hours ago, your mind would be spiraling into a panic. Instead, you found your mind spiraling into lustful thoughts, and you found yourself having to look away, cheeks growing warm. 

Javier didn’t seem to notice your staring, too deep in thought to do so. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you have me kill him?” Anger flashed in his eyes at the thought of the other man, but he kept in check.

You still weren’t quite sure, and you voiced that to Javier. “I think I didn’t want you to because I was having a good night, and watching someone die kinda ruins that.” If your words were blunt, Javier didn’t seem to care. 

“A ‘good’ night?” Javier looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Mi amor, if that’s your idea of a ‘good’ night then…” he trailed off.

Now knowing what he was saying, you felt your heart skip a beat. You should’ve realized a long time ago what it meant, you realized. His voice was always filled with adoration when he said it, and a bashful yet cocky smirk would follow. “Besides the last twenty minutes,” you laughed. “I was having a good night because I was with you, my love.” It felt like a confession, and you kept your voice low, but you were sure to add extra emphasis on the final two words.

Javier’s eyes widened, forearms flexing as he readjusted his crossed arm. “Finally figured it out, then?” He teased, but there was an underlying panic in his voice, not aware if you liked it or not. 

You nodded, diverting your gaze as you prepared for your next question. “Do you mean it?” Your voice was small, vulnerable.

Javier responded with a confused noise. Shifting nervously, your hands felt clammy under the gloves. “Do you mean it when you call me ‘my love’? ‘Cause I know you like me, and that’s great…  but I want to know.” Do you love me? You breathed shakily. Why was this so hard? 

Silence fell over the carriage, and you dared to look back at the man across from you. His arms now rested on his elbow, and when he noticed your attention was back on him he smiled, extending a hand for you to grab. When you did, he covered it with his other, kissing the back of it before doing so. You almost wished at that point that you hadn’t put your gloves back on, wanting to feel his lips against your skin. 

“I said I would never lie to you, and I mean it. I never said anything to you that I didn’t believe.” He shifted closer to you, your knees pressing against each other. “I mean it, every single time. I…” It would’ve been funny, in any other context, to see Javier at a loss for words. “I know there are thousands of different ways I could say this, but I can’t remember a single one. It’s like my brain just turns off whenever I’m near you,” he chuckled.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you were sure Javier could hear it. It burned where your hands were connected, but it was a delicious pain, one that you never wanted to be rid of. It was reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one who got nervous around the other, then. 

“So, I guess I’ll keep it simple, then. I love you, and, if you’ll have me, I want… you. I want to be by your side, through the good and the bad. I want to wake up by your side, your voice the first thing I hear every morning. I want to know your thoughts, your fears, your desires.” He sighed, smiling. “I, well, I guess all that was to say I mean it.”

You expected to feel a sense of dread, some sort of anxiety over your changing relationship, and what that could possibly lead to, but you found none. Before you could even register what you were doing, you were leaning into him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t long, lips barely there for even a second before you were leaning away. You gasped slightly when you saw the red mark left there by you; apparently you still had more makeup on than you thought. Between curses and apologies, you began to wipe it away with your cloth covered thumb, which seemed to just smear it around. 

A light tug at your hand had you stopping, your name being said softly focusing your attention back on to the man. He didn’t seem to mind that your lipstick was now on his face, and his eyes were filled with unbridled love as they danced across your face, before finally settling on your lips, then back up into your eyes. His hand was no longer holding yours, instead it was trailing up your arm, up your neck, finding purchase on the side of your face, holding you with such reverence that it almost brought tears to your eyes. 

His eyes went back down to your lips, a soft plea in his gaze. “Let me kiss you,” Javier asked, restraint pulling his voice down an octave. Slowly, you brought your hand up, brushing away a few strands of hair that had been pulled from the tie. His eyes closed at your touch, a pleased noise escaping his mouth. Those same eyes opened when he felt you nod, and you hadn’t realized how easy it was to get lost in them until this moment.

He closed the distance between the two of you, thumb brushing your cheek as your lips finally connected. It felt like everything finally clicked into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. Everything felt right, and you sighed happily against his mouth, resting your hands on his thighs.

It was a short kiss, merely testing the waters, with Javier pulling away first. He rested his head against yours, simply savoring the moment. A quiet, giddy giggle left you, causing Javier to raise a brow. “It’s nothin’… I’m just happy.” It was almost childish, the reason you were really giggling, but who wouldn’t be happy after their first kiss.

“Good,” he murmured, before a concerned look crossed his face.

“What?” You asked, immediately thinking the worst. 

“It’s your lipstick.” The thumb that was on your cheek shifted to your lips, running against the lower one.

“What about it?” You had no idea where he was going with this. 

“It’s not nearly wrecked enough,” he lamented, and you felt his thumb pull your lip slightly, causing the rouge to smear. 

“Are you gonna fix it, then?” You challenged, slowly running your hands slowly up and down his thighs. You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. All you knew is that you wanted his mouth on yours again. 

“Gladly,” Javier purred, pulling your face to him as he kissed you again. Instead of simply holding his lips to yours, you felt him begin to move this time. It was messy and passionate and it had your head spinning. Gripping on to his legs tighter, you were able to ground yourself. That was until you felt his tongue run against your bottom lip.

You gasped, pulling away an inch to give yourself a moment to breathe, all the foreign sensations causing you to become breathless. Javier, with some visible restraint, didn’t chase after you, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It was at that point that you felt that you almost had a death grip on the man’s legs, and you let go with a soft apology. 

He paid it no mind, and you felt his hold on your face lax a bit. “You’ve never kissed before, have you?” He wasn’t anywhere close to being rude about it, but the question still had your blood running cold.

Embarrassed, you felt your face flush even more. You tried to pull away, but he kept you close. You shook your head, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Was it that obvious?” You mumbled, quite upset. Javier went to respond, and you braced yourself for the words that your brain trained you to expect. 

What you weren’t expecting was him to be smiling at you, thumb rubbing reassuringly on your cheek again. “I only noticed because you seemed less confident,” Javier explained, with no hint of judgment in his voice. “I guess we need to practice some more, then,” he added with a playful grin. 

“I love you,” you whispered, before your hands were grabbing both sides of his face and smashing his lips against yours, both of you smiling into the kiss. Any remnant of anxiety about him vanished as you kissed him, feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in a while. You pulled him toward you as you sat back in your seat, ignoring the way that the bodice of your dress pressed uncomfortably into your skin. You couldn't be bothered to feel it; all that your senses could feel was him. 

He followed as you brought him close, getting on his knees on the carriage floor as he kept his lips locked on yours. Even despite being on the ground, his face was still relatively level with yours, if only a few inches lower. You felt him settle between your legs, at least as best he could with your skirt, hands resting on your hips. 

Unlike the other two kisses before, this one had a secondary intent behind it, and you felt that fire in your core return, arousal making you dizzy. You wanted more, and you’re sure that Javier was more than eager to give it to you. One of the hands that grasped his face moved behind him, discarding your gloves to somewhere in the carriage before quickly undoing the tie that held his dark hair in place, causing it to fall around his head. Greedily you ran your fingers through it, a pleased groan felt on Javier’s lips as you combed it. 

A nip from him had you gasping, offering him an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. The act surprised you, inadvertently causing you to grasp his hair, pulling the strands into a fist. You felt him moan in response, the hands on your hips squeezing tighter, but he didn’t move them. Pulling him impossibly closer, you tried your best to keep up with the quick movements of his mouth, moving your lips in tandem with his. You were always a quick learner, anyway.

An aggressive jolt from the carriage forced the two of you to separate, gasps and pants filling the silence. Moonlight filtered in, and you were able to see Javier clearly now. You realized you had never seen him with his hair down before, and beautiful wasn’t even close to the right word to describe him. He looked ethereal, and he was all yours, making your heart thrum happily in your chest. 

“You should have your hair down more,” was all you said, smoothing your hand over it. It was soft, well taken care of, and you wanted to keep your hands in it forever. 

“Whatever my girl wants,” he responded, pure bliss on his face. You didn’t even bother to hide the happy noise that left you when you heard him call you his girl. 

Glancing down at his lips, you saw they were practically the same color as yours now, smeared messily across the lower half of his face. You’re sure you looked just as bad, and you registered that it would be hard to hide what the two of you got up to from the rest of camp. But you found that you didn’t care that much. 

An image flashed in your head as you watched him; his exposed chest covered in your kiss marks, from his neck to his hips, a pretty ring of red rouge around his cock. The thought  had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension that was starting to become unbearable, but it was hard to do when there was someone between them. 

Javier honed in on the movement immediately, working at his bottom lip as he stared up at you with blown out eyes. “More?” He asked, the word sounding breathy. 

You nodded, carding your fingers back through his hair to pull him back to you. After meeting you for a quick kiss, you felt him travel down your jaw, peppering kisses along as he did so. You laughed lightly when you felt him move to your neck, the soft prickle of his facial hair tickling you, and he smiled against your skin. 

The hands of your hips began to explore now, one rising up your front, touching lightly over the bodice, causing you to shiver. His other hand traveled downward, down your thigh and past your knee, until it was wrapping around your calf. He wrapped your stocking covered leg around his back, causing your shoe to fall off in the process, hitting the floor with a dull noise. 

Satisfied, the hand on your leg moved to join the other, stopping once he reached the underside of your breasts. Instead of running his hands over the mounds, he bypassed them completely, running his hands across your shoulders delicately. For the first time, his bare hands were on your skin, and it was everything you’d ever wanted. They were deliciously rough, years of hard living making them so, and a number of calluses adorning the tips from playing stringed instruments, but they also felt like silk, rolling across your body like water. It caused another shiver to wrack your body, and he chuckled, vibrations falling from his chest into yours. 

“You’re so responsive,” he noted, his normally smooth voice gravelly. His lips traveled further down your neck, showering your lower neck and collarbones with apt attention. “No one’s touched you like this before, no?” He stated rather than asked, and your silence was a more than adequate answer. “What a shame. They don’t know what they’ve missed.”

“I don’t care,” you said with sheer honesty. “Damn everyone else. I only want your hands on me.”

You felt him pull at the back of your head, pulling you into a searing kiss before pulling away slightly, face mere inches from yours. “Let me make you feel good.” Curious, you gave an inquisitive noise, playing with his hair as you did so. He was already making you feel good, so you weren’t quite sure what he was trying to say.

He let out a small chuckle at your confused expression, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose, which was an innocently sweet gesture. His next words were less than innocent, another wave of arousal crashing through you as he spoke. “Let me taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my mouth.”

You’d be lying if you said that his filthy words weren’t getting you incredibly turned on, but a deep feeling of embarrassment overtook you, and you would’ve turned your head away if you could, but you were forced to just avert your gaze.

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, mi amor,” Javier teased, attempting to get your eyes back on him. “It takes more than a few words to get my girl nervous, hm?”

Laughing mostly at yourself, you finally looked into his eyes, a calming smile greeting you. “So, what say you? Are you going to let me eat you out?” He said it so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t completely turning you into a mess. Forcing back the shame, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Javier wasn’t satisfied, and with a disapproving noise he placed another kiss on your nose, causing you to laugh lightly. “Use your words.”

Javier was giving you a second chance to change your mind, you realized, not wanting you to do something that you would regret. It was a nice gesture, but what he didn’t know was that you made up your mind hours ago; you needed him so badly that it almost hurt. “Please,” you responded, your mouth was moving faster than your brain.

He didn’t respond, smiling gratefully at you, like you just offered him something luxurious. One final kiss met your lips before he was descending your body, trailing back over where his lips had been moments prior. One of your hands tangled in his hair when you felt him ghost his lips across the top of your breasts, grinning when he felt the goosebumps form. He didn’t stay there long, a single goal on his mind as he descended further down. 

When he no longer had exposed skin to kiss, he rested his head by your knees, staring up at you adoringly as his hands continued to travel down. In the back of your mind, you remembered hearing stories from the girls at camp about lovers they had, how they treated going down on a woman like a chore, or how some just outright refused to do. The hungry glint in his eye and the almost desperate touch of his hand told you that you didn’t have to worry about that. 

When he reached your hips, he pulled you forward, forcing you to lean back further in order for your back to reach the back of your seat. If you barely had any airflow then, you had none now, a sharp pain growing in your lungs as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Javier quickly noticed this, a concerned frown pulling at his lips. “Dress,” you gasped out, and he quickly got to work unworking the bow and laces that held the corset bodice tight, a pleased sigh leaving you as you felt it loosen its grip on your body. He didn’t undo it completely, the garment still on well enough to keep your body from being exposed, but it was enough that you could get more comfortable.

You didn’t even get to mutter out a ‘thank you’ before he was getting back to it, hands pulling apart your thighs. Your skirt had bunched up when he had pulled your leg around his back, giving him enough room to sneak his head between your spread legs. Your skirt still covered the entirety of his head, only peeks of hair visible to you.

Warm breath caressed your sensitive inner thigh, and you fought the urge to wrap them around his face. Featherlight kisses were felt next, small jolts rocking through you with each touch, increasing in intensity as he reached your aching center. He tugged at the waistband at your undergarments, having you lift your hips slightly so he could peel them away. Pulling them all the way off, he set them somewhere on the seat behind him.

Your hips bucked when you felt him press a kiss to your exposed cunt, humming appreciatively when he felt your arousal, which had no doubt soaked through to your undergarments. “You’re this wet from kissing?” He asked, mostly to himself, and it was barely audible under your heavy clothing, but you felt the need to defend your dignity. 

“It wasn’t just the kissin’,” you managed to get out, hips bucking again when he yet again teased you with his mouth. You felt one of his arms sneak out from under your skirt, broad forearm settling across your waist to keep you in place. “Watchin’ you threaten him…”

You didn’t have to see him to know he had a cocky grin on his face. “That got you all bothered?” He asked, bewilderment and desire both lacing his question. Warm air hit you as he talked, causing you to squirm anticipatorily in your seat.“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you.”

You felt more than heard the responding growl, his grip tightening on your waist as he ran his tongue through your folds, almost immediately going back through for a second, a third, a fourth time. Rolling your head back, pleased noises tumbled from your lips, your other leg almost immediately joining your other around his back. You felt him mutter something, and the broad swipes of his tongue turned to short precise licks, targeting your clit with precise movements. 

The change in sensations had you crying out, hands scarbling at his arm as you tried to find something to hold on to. He chuckled lowly, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. “As much as I’d love to hear you, we don’t want anyone finding out what’s going on in here, do we?” You both knew damn well that nothing could be heard outside the carriage, but the idea of having to keep quiet to prevent your friends from knowing turned you on more than it should. Your body must’ve reacted some way, and you heard him groan appreciatively. “You are dirty.” He sounded a million miles away, but it still felt like his mouth was pressed to your ear. 

Now attempting to muffle yourself, you bit at your lips, most likely drawing blood. His mouth worked at you so much better than you could’ve imagined, your fingers nothing compared to this. Nothing you had ever done to please yourself had felt this good; now that you had a taste of what someone else could do to you, you never wanted to go back. 

A particularly rough flick of his tongue had you whining, pressing a hand on your mouth to stifle your cries. He brought out every drop of pleasure from your body with such ease, like it was second nature. You felt that familiar pressure begin to form in your abdomen, one that normally took you so much longer to reach yourself. He was almost too good at this, playing your body like it was his guitar, his talented mouth pulling noises from you like he was strumming his fingers across the strings. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his lips latch around your clit, sucking the toying with the sensitive nerves. A plethora of exclamations tumble from your lips, the most frequent one being his name. It seemed to spur him on even more, and you felt his free hand trail up your thigh, resting at the inner junction of your leg and hip. His fingers rubbed soothingly at the sensitive flesh as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. “Javi…” your voice was too breathless to complete his name, and you tried your best to warn him of your upcoming release, which was coming faster than you knew how to process. 

He didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you felt him adjust your lower body so that your hips were almost level with his face, your back hardly able to rest against your seat. The new angle made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around his lower back, so you let them go limp, no longer on the man. Javier didn’t seem to like this, almost immediately taking your legs and resting them on his shoulders, which was much more comfortable than the two previous positions. He hadn’t detached himself during the entire readjustment process, tongue and lips still expertly bringing you closer to your release.

The hand at your thigh moved inward, almost so slowly that you barely registered it. You moaned, slightly startled, when you felt those broad fingers spread you apart, tongue delving between them before almost immediately returning its attention to your clit. 

You felt him move his face downward, the new angle allowing him to do so with ease, his fingers following. Feeling them tease around your entrance, and you half-braced yourself for the intrusion you were sure was bound to happen with his fingers. Instead, you felt them move to where his tongue had been, rubbing them against you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed that had you crying out. His tongue instead teased around your entrance, pushing in a tiny bit before retracting, slowly easing you to take his tongue. 

The pressure in you increased tenfold as he slowly started to fuck you with his tongue, dexterous fingers adding to the ecstasy your body was feeling. “Javier, I’m close,” you managed to murmur out, before crying out again, barely able to muffle yourself this time. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his arm, most likely leaving crescent shaped indents from your nails. 

With his mouth quite preoccupied, the most he could do was groan something in response. Your muffled cries of his name turned to small gasps as pants, teetering closer and closer to reaching your peak. As best you could, you carded your fingers through the hand that held you down, desperately needing something to hold as you came. Without missing a beat, he flipped his hand so that his forearm still locked your hips down, but it gave you his hand to hold, your fingers shaky as you gripped his.

With a final cry of his name, your lips bruising from the way you clamped down on it, you felt your release wash over you. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, fingers and tongue not stopping as he drew out every bit of pleasure from your orgasm. Head thumping against the wall of the carriage, you felt your hips buck slightly with each jolt that passed through your body, letting up in intensity as the aftershocks wore off.

Eventually, Javier let up, a cold shiver wracking your body at the lack of his heat. Pulling back your skirt away from his face, the two of you sat in silence for a second, both processing what the hell just happened. A chuckle spilled from you, a light smile on your face that Javier mirrored. He looked as disheveled as you felt, hair tousled and completely out of place. He only had a few light remnants of your lipstick left, his lower face instead was now covered in your arousal, it glistening in the pale moonlight. A proud smirk greeted you as he realized what you were looking at, and you wiped it away as best you could, resting your hand on the side of his face when you were done. You’re sure you looked like a mess as well, but Javier looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

Pulling him back up to your face level, you smashed your lips against his, and you felt his tongue run against the seam of your lips. Opening your lips to let him in, you let out a groan when you were able to taste yourself, the filthiness of it all causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you. Running your free hand down his chest, you toyed with his belt, a slight desperation in your touch as you unbuckle his belt.

Not even bothering to get it all the way off, you let it hang open, and you fiddled with the zipper, opening it after some difficulty. Brushing your fingers against his cock beneath his underwear, which had become deliciously hard, and you felt him shudder, breaking the kiss to exhale a breathy noise. “Mi amor.” It sounded like a mix of a plea and a warning. 

“Sit,” you whispered, yet it held no room for argument.

After a second’s pause, Javier complied, and you could tell he expected you to follow him with. You would’ve found it funny, the way he let out a shocked moan, when you sunk to your knees, but you only had one thing on your mind. 

Framing your knees on each side of his waist, he moved up the skirts to allow you enough room to straddle his lap. You felt his hands move from your skirts to your waist, and his cock pressed right up against your exposed center. You felt him begin to rut his hips the tiniest amount, running his cock through your folds. It was at that point that reality kind of hit you, and you felt that familiar feeling of anxiety begin to trouble your mind, but you pushed it away. 

One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, and you felt him hold himself upright. “Are you ready?” You heard him ask, the hand remaining on your waist squeezing reassuringly. You nodded, saying a hushed yes as you did so. 

Rising up onto your knees, you adjusted yourself so that the tip nudged your entrance. Both of you let out similar noises as you began to sink down onto him, and you rested your head against his neck. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Sure, the stretch of your muscles as they accommodated the intrusion was unpleasant, but it wasn’t downright painful. “Take it slow,” you heard him say through a clenched jaw.

Holding his shoulders for support, you eased yourself down inch by inch, your moans becoming more frequent as you felt him deeper and deeper inside you. He was already far deeper than you’d ever been able to go with your fingers, and you weren’t even close to having your hips flush with his.

Javier muttered praises to you, moving his hand from between the two of you to rub your lower back. “You’re doing so good,” you heard him say, lips pressing against the side of your head. “Just a little more.”

The slight discomfort you were feeling, the stretch of muscles causing a dull throbbing to spread across your abdomen, was quickly turning into a pleasurable feeling. Mumbling something out in response, you heard him chuckle softly, affectionately pressing another kiss to your head. 

A few more moments passed, your legs beginning to shake from the exertion of holding yourself up. Relief flooded your body when you felt his hips meet yours, and you let yourself relax on his lap now that he was fully sheathed in you. “Just like that, mi amor. You- fuck, you feel so good,” you heard Javier pant, voice raspy. Raising your head from his neck, you pulled him into a messy kiss as you let yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Both of you broke the kiss simultaneously when you began to move, lifting yourself off his cock before sinking back down. It was slow, and the drag of him across your walls felt so incredible that you felt your head rolling back. A gentle hand brought it back. “I want to see you,” was all Javier said. You were sure to keep your head still as you repeated the action again, slightly faster than the last. 

Bitting again at your lip to keep yourself quiet, you were quickly able to fall into a rhythm, moving yourself down his length with increasing speed. Pleasure bloomed in your cunt, and you felt yourself clench around him with another drag. Javier choked our name, which sounded hotter than you thought it would be, and your body reacted accordingly. He moaned out your name again, smirking when your body reacted the same way. “Does my girl like that? Does she like hearing me cry out her name?” It was a rhetorical question, but you still found yourself nodding. 

Your legs were beginning to hurt, but you pushed on, the start of a new orgasm beginning to create itself. You felt Javier's eyes on your face, enraptured by the expressions on it. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found his close examination of you nerve wracking, but right now it was adding fuel to the fire growing in you. 

After a few more moments, your legs were really starting to hurt, barely able to lift yourself again. “Javier, I…”

“Do you want me to take over?” 

When you nodded, you felt his hands secure themselves on your waist. “You did so good, mi amor,” you heard him praise, and you felt him slowly begin to lift you, fingers digging into your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before he was bringing you back down.

It took no time at all for him to return to the pace you had set, lifting you up and down like you weighed nothing. You moaned out his name, your head almost rolling back again, but you caught yourself. His hips began to snap up every time he pulled you down, somehow reaching even deeper than before, and the added pleasure was bringing you right to the edge of your release. “I’m gonna-” another snap of your hips cut you off, an unitelliagble noise replacing your words.

“Me too.” Javier’s voice sounded thoroughly wrecked. “Where do you want me?”

It took a second for you to realize what he was asking, and if your brain wasn’t so filled with lust, your answer would’ve been completely different from the one you gave him. “Inside,” you answered, and you felt him falter completely. 

“Fuck, amor,” Javier began thrusting into you with reckless abandon, and in the back of your mind you prayed that Bill would not be able to feel it. The heightened speed had you reaching your end faster than you expected, and with a quite loud cry of his name you came, walls fluttering around him. Javier wasn’t too far behind, and with one final thrust he spilled into you, warmth flooding you. 

Sagging against Javier, the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. He no longer held on to your waist, trailing his fingers lightly over your back. After pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, you felt him sigh. “As much as I’d love to keep you like this, we are almost back.”

Glancing out one of the windows, you saw that Javier was right, familiar scenery rushing past your eyes. Not bothering to hide the disappointment on your face, you slowly lifted yourself off him for a final time, barely able to do so because your legs were jelly. You made a small whining noise when you felt his release spill from you, and if you weren’t so focused on trying to make it back to your seat without falling then you would’ve seen the way Javier’s eyes darkened hungrily.

You were barely in your seat before he was back on you, having tucked himself back away into his pants, peppering many kisses across your lips and jaw until you were a giggling mess. Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you pulled him into a deep hug, pressing your own lips on top of his head, a happy smile on your face. Content, he sighed deeply, even more so when you started rubbing your fingers across his scalp. 

With a regretful smile, Javier pulled away, and he slowly began to redress you. Starting with your undergarments, which quickly became soaked with his spend. Your stockings were put back on next, your shoes quickly following behind. The act of Javier redressing you almost left more intimate than what you two had just done, and you felt your heart thump erratically in your chest at the reverence of it all. 

Finally, you watched him sit upright on his knees, bringing himself level to you again. With one of his thumbs, you felt him wipe away the rouge that had smudged across your lips, another proud smile gracing him. 

“Did you fix it?” You teased, referencing back to a few moments ago, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

“I think so. Though we can always try again later.” You felt another pass of his thumb under your bottom lip. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

His hand stilled. “Can you blame me?” 

You didn’t respond, and you felt him continue to clean you up. 

When he deemed it done, you felt his thumb rest on your lips, brushing over the plump skin, not making a move to leave just yet. His eyes followed the movements of the digit, widening when you took it into your mouth. Bobbing your head once, you worked it between your lips, releasing it with a pop. Darkened eyes bore in you. “You’re making it quite hard to stop right here, mi amor.” You chose to not laugh at the innuendo. “That’s the point.”

He chuckled, which sounded more like a pained exhale through his nose, before removing his hand away from you. He moved back into his seat, lounging with a content expression, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into his lap. Noticing your staring, you watched him spread his legs, providing you with an unobscured view of the way he was already getting hard again

Your hungry eyes traveled across his lower body, which Javier found highly entertaining, that cocky smirk returning. “And you say I’m insatiable,” he joked, hints of his own desire creeping into his voice. 

Before you could respond, the carriage coming to a sudden halt pulled you two from the little bubble you had created. A glance out the surprisingly not fogged window confirmed that you had arrived back at camp, a brightly lit campfire the only thing clearly visible in the dark night. Sighing, you grabbed the last of your belongings, tucking the clutch back under your arm and stuffing your gloves in your other hand, not bothering to put them back on. You watched as Javier quickly fixed up his hair, smoothing down the strands that were sticking up.

In typical fashion, he left first, helping you out with a hand, the same one that had just pulled one of the two . That fact had you hesitating for half-a-second before grabbing it, and if Javier noticed, he didn’t say anything, but he smirked at you knowingly. Cold air immediately cooled your overheated skin, goosebumps forming where sweat had been. You heard a soft thump on the ground as Bill hopped down from the driver’s seat, nodding at the both of you before retiring to his tent, unaware of what had transpired.

Arthur pulled into camp not a few seconds later, having trailed behind the carriage the entire time, following behind the two of you as you headed over to Dutch once he hopped off his horse. Arthur didn’t say anything, not quite knowing how Javier would react, and he kept his distance. When Javier rested his hand on your back, leading you toward Dutch’s tent, you could feel his stare, and you didn’t have to turn to know that he had a shit-eating grin on. 

You were grateful for the touch on your back, not only because you wanted it, but because it also kept you steady, legs still partially jelly as you hobbled over. If anyone asked, you could just blame it on the shoes. 

Dutch greeted you and the two other men warmly, sitting at a table with Hosea and Micah, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. You three said your own greetings, Arthur moving to slide into the extra open seat at the table. Javier stayed behind you, hand not leaving your body, as you leaned back into him. 

“So, I’m gonna assume that because you’re all here in one piece that it went well,” Dutch began, going straight into business. 

You heard Javier begin to explain to Dutch that it didn’t, and that he couldn't get his hands on the bond, but you cut him off by digging into your clutch, pulling out the the stacks of paper you’d pulled from the safe, along with a few clips of money, keeping one for yourself and Javier. You dropped them on the center of the table along with the gloves, a pleased whistle leaving Dutched as he eyed it, and you tucked the bag away. You’d give Javier his knife back later. “There was also a gold bar, which Arthur had.”

The cowboy nodded, pulling it from a satchel, and you realized that was how he had hidden it before. How he got into the party, you’d never know. Sliding across the table to Dutch, he weighed it in his hands, before passing it to Hosea who examined it more closely. You could feel the shock from Javier, gratitude and curiosity in his eyes as he watched you. 

Micah began to converse with Hosea about the gold, Hosea only answering in short, clipped sentences. Dutch and Arthur were already deep into conversation, Dutch giving you no more than a half-hearted thanks before seemingly dismissing you and Javier. Your skin felt sticky and your undergarments were growing more and more uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than to leave. Javier began to leave, but you stayed put, steeling yourself. You had one last thing you needed to say. 

“Dutch,” you kept your voice neutral, and he regarded you with a hum, still not turning away from Arthur. “Don’t you ever send me on a job like that again.” You tried to not word it like a threat, but it still came out as one.

Immediately, all conversation halted, clear shock written across all the men’s faces. The odd chair creaked as Dutch turned to face you now, his expression unreadable. Never, during the entire time you’d been with the gang, had you ever talked back to Dutch in any sort of manner, and it caught everyone off guard, including yourself. Heart thudding anxiously, you awaited a response from the leader, unable to tell if you had just pissed him off. You watched Arthur’s eyes flick between Dutch and you, also unsure of where this was heading. Hosea seemed to be the only one not worried, and you swore you saw the older outlaw smirk in the low light. 

“And why’s that?” Micah interjected, but you ignored him, biting back the anger that threatened to overtake you. Deep breaths, now. 

After a few beats of tense silence, Dutch finally responded. “Noted,” was all he said, nodding as he spoke. A sound of protest left Micah, but Dutch disregarded it. “You did well tonight.”

Nodding, you muttered a quick goodnight, before quickly getting the hell away from the table before the calmness dissipated. Javier followed not far behind, no longer in reach to touch you, and he laughed so lightly that you barely heard it. Turning your shoulder, you questioned him with a look. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Oh, hush,” you waved him away, ignoring the flush in your cheeks at his compliment. 

“I mean it!” Javier laughed, moving closer to that he was able to stop you with a gentle tug of your waist. You realized that you had walked back to the edge of camp, near where the carriage was parked at the entrance. The two of you were relatively shrouded in the dark, trees helping to block you from the camp. A few people beside the men at the table still lingered around camp, but they were too preoccupied with what they were doing to notice you and Javier. 

“There I was, having completely disregarded the whole job, and you just went along and did it yourself. And you know I normally wouldn’t condone you talking to Dutch like that,” Javier pulled you in close by your hips, his own pressed against your backside, “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find you incredibly hot asserting yourself like that.” He nipped at your ear, his facial hair causing you to giggle. It turned into a moan when you ground yourself against him, feeling the still noticeable bulge there. No wonder he chose to stay close behind you as you talked with Dutch. 

You went to tease him about it, but were promptly cut off when you felt him press himself into you, his member protruding into you, pretty much ready to go. As Javier began to lead you away to the woods, you realized that you were not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.

You found that you didn’t care.

[dirtyvulture]

Peeping Jeff

Natasha Romanoff x Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You and Natasha have some fun when an uninvited guest stops by.

Word count: 2095

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

No land sharks were harmed in the writing of this fic.

“Eyes on me,” Natasha says.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say, as if you’ll dare disobey her. Not when she’s dressed in the thinnest pair of black lingerie she owns and is currently rotating slowly around the stripper pole she had installed in the bedroom almost a month ago. It was probably the best investment the two of you ever made, and even Tony had to comment on its usefulness when he brought the contractors in.

You settle back in the bed, ready for your private show. You’re only wearing your boxers now and the bulge between your legs continues to tent as Natasha scales up the pole almost to the ceiling. She wraps her legs around it, wedging it in the crook of her knee to hold her weight while she lets go with her arms, leaning back until her hair cascades in a fiery red wave. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” Natasha warns when she sees your hand moving towards your own crotch. You can’t always help yourself; seeing your girlfriend like this demands an attention that she is too far away to provide. You sigh in frustration, but force your hands back to your sides.

Natasha slides down the pole a few feet, tilting back until her head is lower than the rest of her body. Your eyes focus on her perfect breasts ready to spill out of their delicate cage and how perfectly they press together when she moves. 

She suddenly releases her hold on the pole with her legs and she drops to the floor.

“Nat!” you cry, almost jumping off the bed until you see that she’s stopped herself just in time, now hovering inches off the floor. 

“I’m fine,” she snips, almost like she’s upset you thought she had so little strength and would hurt herself.

“Okay, okay.”

As Natasha continues her performance, neither of you notice that it’s now become a public showing when two dark beady eyes look through the crack of the bedroom door that you’ve accidentally left slightly ajar. The eyes widen when they see Natasha and the silver, shiny pole. But after a few moments, they are distracted by the rumbling in their belly and continue padding down the hall to the kitchen. 

By the time Natasha is off the pole and sauntering over to you, you’ve given up all restraint and are jerking yourself off in your boxers, stopping only when she climbs on top of you and grinds down on your crotch.

“Did you like my show?” Natasha asks, but it’s a pointless question.

“I loved it, baby,” you pant, tilting your head up desperately for a kiss. You don’t even notice she’s pulled your boxers off and her own panties until you suddenly feel her wetness brush against your cock. “Oh fuck, Nat.”

She sinks down without warning, enveloping you in perfect, silky heat. You buck up instinctively, trying to fit your entire length into her, the ache of arousal in the pit of your stomach slightly soothed as she surrounds you. 

Natasha locks her hands around your neck to steady yourself as you thrust into her. You press your face into her chest, inhaling the scent of her skin and wrapping your arms around her back to keep her close to you.

“Right there, baby,” she moans as you jack your hips up until they slap against hers. “Keep going, keep going.”

“You’re always so tight around me,” you grunt, twitching at the sound of your slick cock sliding in and out of her. “You’re so perfect, Nat. Every part of you.”

She hums in agreement, bouncing on your cock and causing the whole bed frame to shake. 

You hadn’t realized how turned on Natasha was over her own performance until her walls clamp around you, almost preventing you from pulling out, and her wetness dripping down your cock. You thrust up in one final, rough move, emptying yourself into her, your hips raised off the bed until your thighs are trembling from the effort before you collapse back down and Natasha rests on top of you. 

The two of you stay like that for a long time, until your alarm goes off, alerting you that you have to get ready for the next event.

***********************************************************************

“I swear, we go to one of these a week,” Natasha says, snagging a martini from one of the passing waiters. She clinks it against your cocktail glass and the both of you take a sip in solidarity.

“You know Tony. Any excuse he has to party, he’ll put one on,” you respond, turning with her to face the crowd of people swaying on the dance floor. You swear you’ve never seen the same person twice at these parties and sometimes wonder if Tony just puts up a flier on the Internet advertising there’s a party at the Avengers Tower. It would explain the amount of times you’ve been asked to take pictures or sign autographs. 

“You tired?” you ask Natasha as she sighs and leans against your arm. 

“Not any more than usual.” You know she’s not a fan of these gatherings any more than you are.

“We can go soon,” you offer.

“It’s okay,” she says.

The two of you sit at the bar and try to avoid any other interactions. You bob your head absently to the beat of the music as Natasha drinks another martini. Bruce comes over, trying to strike up a conversation with Natasha as you glare at him with your arm looped firmly around her waist. 

“Tony said he had a surprise for tonight,” Bruce says. 

“Is it going to happen anytime soon? It’s almost our bed time,” Natasha yawns.

As if on cue, the music suddenly stops and the lights flash on to their full power. The crowd on the dance floor murmurs their annoyance as Tony appears on the DJ’s stage.

“Thank you to everyone who came out tonight!” he says. “I know I host a lot of these, and I’m always trying new things to keep them interesting. Behold, my latest addition to the Stark party experience!”

Tony holds his hands up, and the spotlights direct to a panel on the ceiling that slides back. Something silver and shiny pokes down, slowly revealing itself to be a singular, metal pole. It takes a second for it to click what it is. 

“Oh God,” Natasha says, shaking her head.

“Is that a stripper pole?” Bruce asks.

“Yep,” you answer. “I wonder if he got the idea from the one we had installed in our room–”

Bruce turns on you incredulously. “Wait, you have a–”

“Who wants to give it a try?” Tony asks as the lights dim, all focus on the shiny silver pole now. No one in the crowd moves at first. 

“I will give it a go!” a deep voice booms and Thor comes forward as people begin cheering and clapping for him.

“Oh, this will be good,” Natasha comments. You move closer to get a better view of your co-worker as he steps up to the pole, sizing it up for a few seconds before grabbing onto it firmly. Women start cheering as Thor hesitantly swings himself around the pole, as if he doesn’t trust such a flimsy object to support him, but with the encouragement of the crowd, he gains some confidence and starts to dance as if the pole is his partner.

“Only Tony could come up with something like this,” you say, impressed at how flexible the god of thunder is.  

“This is definitely going online,” Bruce notes, counting the number of cellphones people have out to capture the moment.

“You want to give it a try, Nat?” you tease.

“Nope. Because that’s a show for you only,” she says, pressing against you to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“All right, all right, give it up for the god of thunder!” Tony says, gesturing for Thor to leave center stage as the crowd of women swarm him from your view. “Who’s up next?” His eyes sweep across the room, searching for another victim. You accidentally make eye contact with him and your heart drops as he points to you. “Come on over, Y/N–” 

“Mrrrr.” 

You pause mid-step as everyone hears the same noise echo in the room. It’s one you’re more than familiar with, but you aren’t quite sure it’s the right one you’ve heard until you see Jeff the land shark, in his one-foot tall glory, waddling towards center stage.

Murmurs carry around as the little shark approaches the silver pole and gives it a few sniffs.

“Is that Jeff?”

“What is he doing here?”

“Is he even old enough to be here?”

“Mrrrr!” he huffs indignantly at that last comment. When you pause to think about it, you aren’t really sure what Jeff’s age is. While he is a great deal smaller than his terrifying, fully-grown counterparts, rumor had it that Jeff aged just the same but simply did not outgrow his smaller form. So for all you knew, he was perfectly of age to be at a Tony Stark party.

“Give it up for Jeff the land shark!” Tony exclaims, increasing the volume of the music. 

“Go, Jeff!” you shout and Natasha smacks your shoulder. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Do not encourage him! He’s just a baby and probably shouldn’t even be here–”

“We don’t know that for sure,” you defend.  

“Watch him be better than Thor,” Bruce says.

Jeff stands on his hind legs to inspect the pole; you wonder if he has the grip strength to lift himself up. Natasha had lectured you on the difficulties of her new hobby, even offering you the opportunity to try it yourself, and while you were plenty strong, you had no flexibility or grace, thus resulting in a less-than-stellar show for her. 

However, Jeff is already showing you up as he clutches onto the pole tightly with his fingers, pushing off the ground with his back feet and using his momentum to swing around the pole with his round body.

People scream and cheer at his first attempt. He steadies himself, carefully inching up the pole until he is at a height where everyone in the room could see him. He tilts his head back as he spins around the pole again, almost like he’s in slow-motion. You had no idea a land shark could be this graceful or fluid. 

Everyone is entranced by his performance, as Jeff flaps his tail to propel himself faster around the pole. He dips back until he’s almost upside-down, before he lessens his grip on the pole just enough to come sliding down at a speed that drops your heart, but he stops before his head touches the floor. 

The applause is raucous.  

“Isn’t that what I did last night?” Natasha says suddenly, but you’re too enthralled to respond. 

“He’s better than you, Nat,” you tease with a nudge. Jeff climbs up the pole again, then clamps his jaws around it, swinging his round body out in a move you can only describe as being the land shark version of a human flag–one of the most difficult calisthenic exercises you’ve ever tried to learn. But whereas it took you months of intensive training to achieve a human flag for even 5 seconds, Jeff seems to have flawless core strength as he holds his body out, perfectly perpendicular to the floor. 

“YEAH, JEFF!” you scream, scaring Natasha. You’re probably one of the few people here who truly understand the difficulties of the exercise, and you want to make sure Jeff’s feat is appropriately appreciated.  

Jeff takes the pole in his hands again, twirling around it while pausing in several positions with his legs split or kicked out. He mimes walking on air for a few seconds during his descent and if the crowd hadn’t been loud already, you’re pretty sure they’re going to shatter the windows. Jeff lands safely on the floor, bounding up and bowing as people take pictures and continue to cheer. 

“I wonder where he learned how to do that,” Bruce says, clapping his hands.

“Yes,” Natasha agrees, a strange realization dawning on her but she’s too embarrassed to say it out loud. She will have to make sure the bedroom door is properly closed and locked from now on. “I wonder…”  

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

AN: Special thanks to @nameforthemain for this beautiful sketch that inspired this fic!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[moonstruckme]

Hi my love!! I just reread your bodyguard tasm!peter parker blurb and it was so cute 😭I loved the original premise where peters spider senses got distracted because of her!! You wrote it so beautifully.

I'd love to request a part two (If you're open to that?) where he's guarding her again and we see their relationship develop a little more??

i read your requests rules and couldn't find anything about you not writing part twos, but feel free to ignore if you'd rather not! lots of love <3 <3

Hi sweetheart, thank you thank you!!

bodyguard!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter’s staying on the ground for your sake, but he doesn’t love it. 

You’re relaxed as can be, lounging on your bed while he paces your unfairly giant room from end to end. This, he thinks, is why people hate politicians. You’ve got an ensuite bathroom the size of his apartment, and on the taxpayer’s dime. He gets it now. If you and your dad were living in a shoebox like every other self-respecting New Yorker, maybe the guy wouldn’t get so many death threats. 

“You don’t have to be all vigilant,” you say. “My dad’s not here. So long as I don’t get actually kidnapped or killed while you’re here, sitting down isn’t going to affect your performance evaluation.” 

Peter looks at you. “I’m getting a performance evaluation?” 

Your smile is lopsided and goofy. It’s humiliating how much it affects him. “No. Who would he send it to? Your employer?” 

“Oh.” He feels stupid. “Good point.” 

“Come here,” you laugh. “I got us coffee.” 

He goes to sit on your bed, mostly because he’ll do anything you ask him to. After spending a few hours hugging you on a roof, Peter’s found that he actually likes you. You’re not snooty or spoiled like he might have expected, friendly to him even though he’s technically working for you. You seem oddly down-to-earth for someone with your upbringing, funny and smart. (Smarter than him, maybe. You turn him into a blundering idiot every time he sees you, though, so it’s hard to say.) You’re surprisingly fun to be around. 

You lean over, grabbing two disposable coffee cups from your nightstand. “Do you want peppermint or caramel?” 

“Which one do you want?” 

“No way. You’re my guest, you get first pick.” 

Peter’s here on a job, but he likes your version of the story better. That you’d think of him as your guest, someone invited in whom you want to please, makes an affectionate warmth unfurl in his gut. 

“You should probably have the one you want, because the other one’s going to get cold,” he says, an apology in his tone. Your brows wrinkle. “I can’t really drink through the mask…” 

“Oh.” You close your eyes, expression clearing. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Peter’s smiling under the mask. He wonders if you can hear it in his voice. “Enjoy yours. I’ll live vicariously.” 

“You couldn’t just lift it up enough to drink?” 

“Uh, no. The whole secret identity thing is…kind of important to the job.” 

You smile guiltily, lifting one of the cups to your lips. “Fair enough.” 

You’re silent for a minute, watching him as you sip at your coffee. Once again, making it nearly impossible for Peter to do what he’s being paid to do. He should be keeping his senses alert, watching the windows, surveilling the perimeter or whatever. Not looking into your clever, narrowed eyes and thinking about how your whole room smells like you. 

“Okay,” you say, still scrutinizing him like you’re trying to count the threads in his suit, “now I’m dying to know what’s under the mask.” 

Peter sits very still. He’s had people—fans and foes alike—try to tear it off him before, but he doesn’t think you’re like that. 

“I mean, obviously you’re tall,” you lean back on the bed, mouth pursed in contemplation, “so you’re not, like, twelve. You sound about my age…” 

“I what?” 

“Your voice.” 

“What—” He clears his throat. Tries to sound more generationally ambiguous. “What would make you think that?” 

You crack another one of those sweet, silly smiles. “Well, you’re not going to fool me now,” you say. “I’ve heard you talk. You can’t be more than thirty. Plus, when you got here, you said ‘yo’.” 

Peter really needs to stop saying that. He doesn’t even know when he started. 

“You’ve got stitches all over your suit…” you go on. “What neighborhood are you from again?” 

“I’m not telling you that,” he laughs. 

“Oh, come on.” You scooch a little on the bed, tucking one leg under you to face him more fully. Your eyes pierce his like knives. Very pretty knives. “There’s almost ten million people in New York. You really think I’m going to track you down?” 

“Your dad is the mayor…” 

“Stop.” You give his shoulder a playful shove. Peter’s mask feels suddenly warm. “Those surveillance rumors weren’t true, the tabloids made that up to mess with his re-election campaign.”

“Okay, okay. I’m from Queens.” 

You lean back on your hands, and he can’t decide if the way you’re looking at him is analyzing or flirting. “Interesting,” you say slowly. “So you’re, like, a real man of the people. Not the Bruce Wayne type.” 

“Hey,” he teases, “Bruce Wayne could’ve lived in Queens. It’s nice.” 

“But Bruce Wayne wouldn’t have to sew his own suits,” you point out. 

Peter tilts his head, blows a breath out the side of his mouth. You’ve got him there. 

“And you’re tall, clearly pretty strong, you seem smart…” You nod, seeming to have come to a decision. “I think you’re handsome under there.” 

A laugh startles out of him. He hopes it sounds casual, like it came from someone cool, whose heart isn’t galloping in his chest. Peter really shouldn’t care if you think he has the potential to be handsome under his mask. It’s not like you’ll ever find out. Still, it feels weirdly nice. 

He makes his voice light and playful. “Well, it’s good to have your approval. Now we can pretend that I’m almost in your league.” 

For the first time since he’s gotten here, you look genuinely caught offguard. “Me?” 

“Yeah, you.” Peter grins. It feels good to have flustered you. He’s missed doing that. “Who else?” 

You look away from him as you laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you say, “but you’re a superhero. You’re not the one who should be worried about leagues.” 

You’re cute. Peter makes a bold move, scooting an inch closer to you, into your space. He’s glad you can’t see that under the mask, his face is just as flushed as yours. “I’m not a superhero,” he says, keeping his voice light as meringue. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” 

You roll your eyes. “Humble, too. Points in your favor.” 

A laugh rumbles through his chest. Someday, he’s gonna have to get Peter Parker in your orbit somehow. He wants to meet you—more than that, he wants you to meet him. He’s not sure how long he can wait. 

He decides to let you off the hook. Slightly. He reaches across you, taking the unused cup from your nightstand. “Thanks for this,” he says. “Once you don’t need me here anymore, I’m gonna take it home and heat it back up.” He grins even though you can’t see it. “Maybe I’ll swing by and return the favor sometime.”

[mellowswriting]

the big day

pairing || Javier Peña x fem!Reader

word count || 1.3k 

summary || it isn’t until the reception that it finally hits him. you’re his wife. he can’t help but show you just how lucky he feels. 

content || SMUT, unprotected sex, kinda public sex (they fuck at their wedding reception (typical)), idiots in love, husband!Javi is fuckin SCRUMPTIOUS lemme tell ya, the beginnings of Javi’s housewife kink 🙏🏻, this man is in loooove

a/n || i truly cannot stop writing about husband!Javier. inject him straight into my veins PLS (obligatory @theorganasolo​ tag, as always)

Javier Masterlist  |  Main Masterlist 

Javier can’t believe that you’re actually his. His wife. The entire day has been such a whirlwind from beginning to end that the surrealness is only just wearing off. As he watches you laugh, dance, and drink with him and everyone else you love, he realizes… you’re his. Forever. He gets to spend the rest of his life with this beautiful, intelligent, fiery woman every single day. He was never a particularly traditional man but he can’t deny the allure of the life he gets to lead with you. Soft. Warm. Domestic. He never thought he would have this kind of life - or that it would make his dick so fucking hard. 

It takes good timing. The two of you are the center of attention, after all. Slipping off unnoticed won’t be easy but Javier is nothing if not a man with a plan. He waits, albeit impatiently, until enough alcohol has flowed and the guests are sufficiently distracted by music and food to whisk you away into some back room of the venue with a lockable door. You knew what he was up to more than an hour ago. The need that burns in his eyes is one you have seen far too many times to count. So when he suddenly appears beside you and tugs impatiently at your waist, you’re a more than willing captive. 

Javier whirls you down a hallway, around a corner, and into a random room he must have scoped out for this exact reason. The moment the door closes behind you, he pulls you close and kisses you with a hunger that has you melting into him. You let him guide you further into the room, blindly trusting him to lead you back and lift you onto the edge of a table. The skirt of your pretty little reception dress bunches up at your waist under his eager hands. The sight of you in a gorgeous white dress with his ring on your finger, officially his wife… fuck, he just can’t stop himself. 

His eyes flash up to yours as his fingers rub your lace-covered pussy, reveling in your little gasp and the fevered way you whisper his name. He isn’t the only one who’s been thinking about this. Javier yanks your underwear off and stashes the wet fabric in his pocket. You can’t help but tease him for being a dirty little thief, even as you eagerly undo his belt before tugging him closer by it. 

“We’re finally married… Can you believe it?” There’s an earnestness to your voice that makes his heart flutter in his chest. Your eyes are shiny with love and lust, and Javier swears he’s never been more in love with you. Then again, he thinks that every time he lays eyes on you. You smile at him and whisper, “I’m your wife, Javi.”

“Fuck yeah, you are. My amazing, kickass wife. All mine…” Javier damn near growls. His cock twitches against the confining fabric of his boxers at the pure reverence in your voice. Your thighs spread for him as he presses closer, eager to let him grind against your pussy. It’s hard to resist his usual temptations. Javier wants to hitch your thighs over his shoulders and eat you out until you soak his face. He wants to work you open on his fingers and suck marks into your delicate skin. 

But there isn’t enough time for that. It won’t take long for the guests to begin wondering where the two of you disappeared off to. Two weeks, Javier reminds himself. After tonight, he will have two weeks in a tropical paradise to take you apart for him over and over again.

“We have to be quick, hermosa.” Javier shoves his pants and briefs down to his mid-thigh and yanks you down by your hips. “Gotta fuck my pretty little wife before anyone comes lookin’ for us.” 

Javier doesn’t waste any time. He clamps his hand over your mouth as he buries himself inside of you, muffling the indecent cry that falls from your lips. The hot vice of your pussy forces a broken sound from him and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet. It’s rushed and sloppy and so full of love that he aches with it. One hand flies back to brace yourself against his thrusts and the other wraps around his wrist, your manicured nails leaving little crescent marks in his skin. You barely manage to pry his hand away to let a sweet little plea escape your lips. 

“Kiss me?” You whisper.  

Javier gives in to you without a second thought, without a second of hesitation. He cradles the back of your head with his huge hand and draws you up into a breathtaking kiss. The sweet little moan he draws from you only encourages his greed. When it comes to your pleasure, he always needs more. He needs to have you trembling beneath him. Crying out his name as he draws you to a devastating orgasm. Looking up at him with that delicious fucked-out expression on your beautiful face. 

“Thaaat’s it…” He encourages, his voice gruff and needy. He shoves his hand beneath your dress and finds your clit with familiar ease. He watches with bated breath as your face as your eyes flutter shut and your head tips back in pleasure. The sight never fails to send a spark of pride simmering through his veins. “Takin’ my cock like a good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Javi,” You whisper his name like a prayer. “I’m - fuck! I’m close, so fuckin’ close… please!” 

Javier knows exactly what you need. He shifts you both just slightly until his hips roll down with each thrust. It’s all it takes to have you quivering around him, both hands digging into his shoulders, clinging to him for support. Javier presses his forehead to yours and drinks in the sight of you falling apart for him. A shudder wracks through your entire body as you cry his name into his shoulder. 

Everything else melts away. The venue, the expectant guests, all of it. All that exists in this moment is you. The woman he loves. The woman he is lucky enough to have by his side for the rest of his life. His wife. Coming with his cock buried as deep as you can take him. Every pulse drags him closer to his inevitable end but it's your voice that finally does it. That sweet, fucked-out voice whispering, “I love you” over and over again like they’re the only three words left in your head. You whimper with every harsh jerk of his hips. Such a pretty little sound that only ignites that deeply ingrained need to take care of you. 

Javier kisses you softly. Your smile is so big that he can barely keep it up, so he lets his lips trail over your jaw and down your neck. You’re all too eager to tilt your head for more, fingers tangling in his hair with a happy little hum. He murmurs his praise, his love, into your skin as if he can etch the words right into your DNA. 

It isn’t until two short knocks come from the door that Javier comes back to himself. 

“I can only stall for you two lovebirds for so long, ya know?” Comes Murphy’s amused voice from the other side. 

Javier groans as his head falls into the crook of your shoulder. You thank Steve with a giggle that never fails to bring a smile to your husband’s face. He’s reluctant to pull away from you but he knows he has no choice. Besides, he wants to dance with his bride. Javier cleans you up with gentle swipes of your now-ruined underwear, while you meticulously fix his tuxedo. 

He carefully brushes your hair out of your face, returning it to a somewhat presentable state. His hands come to rest on your cheeks. “I’m gonna make you so happy, mi amor. I swear it.” 

[sevenpoyo]

MILES G. MORALES CURRENT STUDENT INVOLVEMENT FILE

>LOG IN CONFIRMED >LOG IN TIME RECORDED >HELLO . >GUEST STAFF!< Notes for new office staff• •OOD- out of dorm. •All updated files will appear italicized until the new information can be confirmed and encrypted properly! Let’s all work hard to have a good year! —————————————————————— Let’s work as a team to keep our files and records secure and up to date! Double encrypt ALL files not related to regulatory procedures. Thank you! —Your Visions Brooklyn branch office staff♡!

Miles G. Morales

Currently a student of Future Visions Private Academy for the preparation of the practically and speculatively advanced, or, the last light of Brooklyn as some call it.

Miles doesn’t call it that.

Miles G. Morales, is a student at Future Visions Private Academy that some teachers don’t particularly enjoy having.

In true clarity, the majority of his instructor at Visions Academy for the Technically and Practically skilled do not like Miles Morales. 

And in their very socially esteemed opinion, he doesn’t make himself easy for them to like,

not when his uncle picks him up from a class of checks him out of his dorm at least twice a week, for reasons only cited as, “bonding activities”

or when he’s ahead in his work, but distracted or even disinterested in their classes, like he has something better to do.

or when the head of the English department is convinced that he’s sneaking out and his roommate and best friend is covering for him, though, he has no conclusive proof.

Still, it’s a point to be mentioned.

or when, most offensive of all, when desperate all this he’s easily outclassing their best, their legacy students, 

These students whose families have oh so generously donated club rooms and gyms to the school.

It’s absurd really, these students have been training to be the best, training to keep people like him in their proper place in the social order. he’s supposed to be one of those people that are smart enough to use, 

but for some reason it’s as if he’s read that version of his story, carved in stone, created from the day he was born or the day he became who he are, or whenever, and in some insane, incalculable bid of rebellion, he’s spray painted over it.

But, the words are still on the stone under his colorful, creative rebellion,

And maybe his fate can’t be changed.

maybe no ones can be.

FILE UNLOCKED!

GENERAL STUDENT INFO

NAME- Miles G. Morales

CURENT GRADE LEVEL- 10

CLASS SCHEDULE- currently unentered due to re-enrollment issues.

BEHAVIORAL RECORDS - N/A

TRUANCY RECORDS - Chronically absent, not currently a candidate for any teacher/guardian involvement.

VISIONS SCHOLAR LOG

Enrolled as one of Brooklyn’s 2022 lottery students. 

maintained grades to hold lottery enrollment 

Currently dormmed part time, should be making plans to transfer full time.

FRESHMAN YEAR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES- N/A

SOPHOMORE YEAR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES- Engineering and Technology/ Robotics Comp • mandatory OOD student participation

GUARDIAN SIGN IN/OUT LIST

Rio Morales— mother PRIMARY CONTACT

cell-********** work-**********-4221 (hospital extension)

Aaron Davis—paternal uncle

OTHER/PERSONAL NOTES

Nothing of note personal

some transfer files in correctly marked as Wiles, please disregard.

FILE END

make sure to save updates and inform I.T.!

BYE BYE!!-☆♪

I know Miles G. Probably doesn’t go to visions bc the whole burning and overrun city thing but I like school settings in fics and visions is such an underused setting for e-42 world building. I swear someone could cook with this and it’s gonna have to be me because if no one else will I’m gonna write what I wanna read. Haven’t decided 100% when I’ll introduce a reader but if I do it’ll switch between being centered on miles and the reader.

[mlmxreader]

Doubt | Eddie Brock/Venom x gn!reader

 Anonymous asked: Hi hon 👋🏼 (does that sound cringe?? Like I said, I'm trying to mix up these greetings 😂).  I hope this ask finds you well!

May I please ask for a work using the following prompts for 🥹 my favorite loser Eddie Brock X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader:

"I came as soon as I heard the news"+"For what it's worth, I'm proud of you"

Maybe Eddie is going deep dive within his own thoughts (self doubt, etc.) and just can't seem to centre himself. Feels like he's majorly messed something up and reader is there to comfort and reassure him.

(As always, this is just spit balling, all creative liberties to you of course!!)

Thank you 🖤!

🐍anon

summary: Eddie is doing, well, shit and he needs a little bit of TLC - but luckily, Venom knows just the person.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Eddie stared at his laptop, the time ticking by so slowly; he felt like everything that he had written was just complete shit. Like he was as bad at being a journalist as he was a superhero.

He felt like he wasn’t good enough, that the skills and time and energy he had put into everything was for nothing; it was all shit, it was all terrible. Venom was right, he was a loser and he would always be a loser; he swallowed thickly as he stared at his keyboard, scratching at the back of his neck before he sighed and frowned.

He couldn’t think of a damn thing, practically torturing himself as he got up to go get a cigarette and something to drink; he didn’t even see it when Venom reached for his phone and sent a text to their significant other. Venom knew Eddie the same way you did, and just as you would have known that Eddie needed help and a distraction, so did Venom.

Eddie didn’t even know, until the front door opened. 

“Eddie. We have a guest.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes. “But everyone knows I’m working.”

He frowned, making his way to the door, but he stopped in his tracks, and sighed heavily with relief when he saw you there; you looked concerned, but he shook his head. 

“Baby, I’m sorry, but I’m working.”

You sat him down on the sofa with a shake of your head, and already his heart was pounding and he didn’t know what he was doing in the slightest as he chewed at the inside of his lip and started to worry. “Eddie, I came as soon as I heard the news - Venom texted me, and asked me to come over. He said you were struggling, doubting yourself.”

Eddie shrugged as he shook his head again, hands shaking as he gently pushed you away and tried his best to smile. “I’m, I’m fine - it’s just that everything I write is the same old churned out shit, and it’s never gonna be good enough. It’s not. I’m not fucking good enough, baby, and that’s… that’s okay! I just won’t ever get a decent job, I won’t ever fucking be able to afford more than this shit flat and-”

“Breathe,” you told him gently, patting his thigh gently as you raised your brows. “C’mon, Eddie, focus on me.”

He nodded shakily, swallowing thickly as he dared to get a little closer. 

“Do as they say,” Venom told him. “You need it.”

“Oh fuck off, you overgrown worm,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. He brought his gaze to you and smiled weakly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you told him gently. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, shrugging as he looked at you with despair in his eyes. “Just feel like everything I do is fucking shit right now. My boss wants this article in by eight o’clock this morning, but… look at the time, baby, I’m not gonna get it done with how it’s turning out now.”

You gave him a moment to add anything further, and when he didn’t, you cleared your throat, and sat on his lap, pinning him to the sofa, your hands digging into the cushions either side of his head as he grabbed at your hips. “Now, you listen to me, Brock, and you listen fucking good - you are one of, if not the, most talented journalist I know. I’ve read shit from award winners that wasn’t even half as good as yours. So fucking listen when I tell you that you’re great. You’re great, Eddie.”

He nodded, a little too distracted at having you on his lap but it was doing the trick, and he could feel himself slowly start to let go of his worries and about whether or not he might have fucked up his job altogether. He grabbed your hips a little tighter, blunt fingernails digging into your skin through the thin fabric you were wearing.

“Thank you…”

“Keep listening,” you demanded, commanding most of his attention. “You are a great boyfriend, to me and to Venom. You are talented, you have great skills and any publication should be grateful to have you. You’re a hero, Eddie, to so many. You’re doing your best, and y’know what?”

“What?”

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you,” you whispered in his ear. “I am really, really fucking proud of you, Eddie.” 

Eddie had to admit, and he couldn’t have denied it anyway, but he was starting to feel a lot better about the whole situation, he needed the comfort and the reassurance, if he was honest. It worked wonders to know that his favourite human in the world was there for him, that you were proud of him and that you recognised his skills and his talents; not many people did, in fact, he couldn’t remember the last person who did.

But you did, and to him, that meant everything. To know that one of his significant others was standing behind him and cheering him on; to know that you were proud of him, not ashamed, not embarrassed.

You were proud.

It made his heart skip a beat as he moved his hands down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you up so that you had to look down to meet his gaze.

“Come to bed with me,” you told him. “Let’s get some rest, yeah?”

Eddie nodded eagerly, using Venom’s strength to pick you up and take you to the bedroom; he let you fall onto the bed before he crashed down next to you, his head hitting the pillow as he hummed and yawned.

You would have reached over and kissed him like you usually did, but when you took a look back at him, you couldn’t help but to smile; he was sound asleep already. 

“Thank you,” Venom grumbled, crawling out of his arm and staying still beside you. “He needed that.”

“I know he did,” you said softly, kissing Venom’s forehead gently. “Thank you for letting me know, V.” 

[vodika-vibes]

Hehehehehe

2nd request:

Love oo

Jango (thats for you) , undersea, and hurt/comfort.

POW

Summary: The Tritones, merfolk with fishtails, and the Cecaelia, octupi merfolk, have been at war for centuries. Battling for land and prestige and the right to rule the oceans. The Haliae, the sea nymphs, have always sided with the Tritones, while the Chordates, merfolk with eel heritage, have always sided with Cecaelia. You are a Chordate, recently conscripted to the war effort, and captured by a Tritone War Party. And now, you’re little more than a prisoner of war. At least your jailer isn’t cruel.

Pairing: Pre-Jango Fett x Reader

Word Count: 2669

Prompt: Undersea AU/Mermaid AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So this took me all morning to write because I kept getting distracted. I hope you like it though!

“Dinner,” You scrunch up your nose as the night warden pushes a plate of kelp and some other leafy foods into your cell. You uncurl from where you were settled on your tail in the corner, and move the short distance to the place, absently lifting the greens to look for food you can actually eat.

You’re people are carnivores.

Obligate carnivores, even. You couldn’t digest this stuff if you tried.

But it seems like the Tritones seem to think that you can change your nature if you try hard enough.

Just one more reason why there will never be peace between the two sides.

“Being picky again, eel?”

You cast your gaze towards him, “It’s not being picky,” You counter flatly, the language of the Tritones awkward and clunky on your tongue, especially when compared to the more musical language of your own people. “I’m incapable of digesting this. Which I know that you know because I’ve told you multiple times.”

The guard opens his mouth to say something, only to stop when the door at the end of the hallway swings open, and a dark skinned Tritone swims down the hall.

“Prince Jango!” The guard snaps to attention, and you roll your eyes as you swim back to your corner. “What brings you down to the dungeons at this time of day?”

Prince Jango peers into your cell, and then at the plate of food sitting on the small table, before he looks back at the guard. “I’m ensuring that our guest isn’t being mistreated.”

“We would never!” The Guard genuinely sounds offended.

“Which is why you’re giving her food that she can’t eat?” The Prince asks with an arched brow.

The Guard pauses, “She might like it-”

Jango sighs, “You realize that this isn’t a question of like, right? Her people, genuinely, can’t digest plants. Their stomachs are meant for it.” He opens the cell door with his key, and swims in to take the plate, “Bring her a proper meal.”

“Ah…yes, my Prince.” The Guard bows and takes the plate before he swims away.

Jango turns his gaze to you, “I apologize for that.”

You wave your hand, dismissing his concerns, “It’s hardly the first time a Tritone or a Haliae have tried to make me more palatable for them.” You swim closer to the door, and then make a face. From the top of your head to the tip of your tail, you stand at almost 11 feet long. 

You can go from one corner of the cell to the opposite corner, and still have some of your tail coiled. These cells were not made for a Chordate…heck, you’re not even that long! You’re the runt in your family.

Jango is quiet for a moment, his dark eyes lingering on the way that your tail is still coiled in the corner, “Would you like to stretch your tail properly?”

You blink at him, “Is that allowed?”

He chuckles, “I am the Crowned Prince of Atlantis. Of course it’s allowed.”

You tilt your head, “You do know that I can swim faster than you, right?”

He just grins at you, “I’m not worried about you running off. After all, you didn’t even try to avoid the War Party.”

“You’re not wrong, but you don’t have to say it.” 

His grin widens, and he opens the cell door again, motioning for you to follow him.

You follow him through the winding halls, and you’re grateful that he seems to be doing his best to avoid large groups of people. You already get treated like an exhibit at the museum, and your temper is slightly more foul than it should be, given your situation.

“Here we are,” Jango comes to a stop in a massive reef that his family has been cultivating for generations. It’s a rather well known reef, even people in your people's territory have heard of it.

You swim a little bit away from Jango and stretch out properly.

Once you’ve managed to work the kinks out of your back and tail, you settle onto the soft sand and flip your tail so you’re able to look at the underside. You’ve been carefully monitoring a sore that appeared several days ago, though it doesn’t seem to be healing. 

“...you’re hurt.” Jango swims up behind you, his gaze lingering on the sore, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think anyone would care,” You reply honestly. 

Jango frowns, though you have the feeling that he’s more upset at the situation than you, and he digs through one of his pouches to hand you a small pouch. “Here, this is kolto. It should help heal it.”

You stare at him for a long moment, and then slowly take the pack from his hand, “...thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jango settles onto the sand next to you and watches you tend to your own injury with ease, “You’ve done this before.”

It’s not a question, so far as you can tell, but it also seems like he’s making a peace offering, so you continue the conversation. “I have a pair of older twin brothers,” You reply, “And we fought a lot.”

“About what?”

“Oh, silly little things. You know what kids are like. My brothers would call me a name, and I’d call them a name, and it’d just keep escalating until it became physical.”

Jango laughs, “Sounds like me and my friends growing up.”

You shrug, “Kids are kids all over. And mom and dad refused to patch us up after the first time, unless a bone was broken, so we had to learn to take care of ourselves.”

“That sounds…mean of them.”

You laugh softly, “Not really. They’re big proponents of us suffering the consequences of our own actions. I think we turned out alright.”

“I honestly don’t know much about your people,” Jango admits, “Only what they teach us in school.”

“They probably tell you about the battles only then.” You finish treating your tail and start drawing little circles in the sand, “It’s dumb, this whole war.”

“Aren’t you a soldier?” Jango asks with an amused smile.

“I was conscripted, just like every other one of my people.”

Jango’s smile fades, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, “The population numbers for the Cecaelia people aren't very high. To bolster their forces, they turned to the Chordates. We have a much higher population number.”

“But you aren’t volunteers?” Jango asks.

“No. Mandatory conscription for all Chordates who are healthy enough.” You shrug, “We’re big, strong, and intimidating. It’s no wonder that the Cecaelia would want us. Not to mention, we’re not exactly welcome in Atlantis-”

Jango frowns, but he doesn’t argue against it.

You both know that you’re right.

“I’ll change that, when I’m King.”

You laugh, “No. You won’t.”

He looks offended, “You don’t think I will?”

“I don’t.”

“...I suppose you have cause to believe that.” He says with a sigh, “It’s not fair how your people are treated though.”

“You get used to it.”

Jango opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when his father’s second approaches. “Montross.”

“Prince Jango, there’s been a development. There is to be a POW exchange. The eel girl for one of our generals.” Montross turns his steely gaze onto you, and you meet it, unafraid. “Follow me, girl.”

“Alright,” Lazily, almost unconcerned, you lift from the ground and swim over to him. A small smirk crosses your face when he tightens his grip on his spear.

He might have larger muscles, but you tower over him, and you know that you’re stronger than he is. 

He’s aware of it too.

You don’t look back at Jango as you follow him out of the reef. There’s no point, odds are, you’re never going to see him again. You’re just eager to get into the darker lands of your people.

You also hope that they’re not trading anyone important for you.

It’s been six months since you were a prisoner of war and, you suppose, your imprisonment did come with something of a silver lining. You were immediately relieved from duty, and allowed to return to your family’s farm.

To return to your parents and your brothers. 

The fact that you had lost so much weight, and that your tail had been injured, meant that you were a good prop to parade in front of the masses, to show how monstrous the delicate and pretty Tritones and Haliae are. 

The Queen even had a speech written for you, wherein the details of your imprisonment were greatly embellished. You had to give a couple of interviews, one from the hospital where you were being treated for malnourishment, and then you were sent home with a very nice severance package, as well as an agreement that you wouldn’t tell anyone the truth.

Not that you ever would.

The severance package was very helpful to your family, and it’s not like you have many friends who aren’t related to you. And they already know the truth.

The Chordates are no strangers to lying to the people in charge, after all.

Honestly, you’re just glad to be home. To be able to trade in your battle trident for the much more familiar hunting spears, and to trade in the heavy metal armor for the lighter cloth that allow you to move, unseen, even through shallower water.

Your oldest brother flings his arm over your shoulder, early one morning as you finish putting food out for your family's herd of comb jellies. “Are you joining the twins when they go hunting?” He asks as he hoists an empty feed bag over his shoulder.

“That hadn’t been my intention,” You reply as you open a new feed bag and pour it on the sand, “You know what they’re like when someone invites themselves along on their hunting trips.”

“They haven’t asked, because they’re terrified that you’re going to vanish again.”

“Terrified? Van and Len?” You ask, skeptically, “I highly doubt that.”

He laughs, “You don’t believe me? Go and ask them yourself.”

“Fine, but only if you take over the rest of my chores.”

“Deal.” He pushes you towards the shed where the twins keep their hunting gear, and then turns, whistling, to tend to the animals. 

You swim over to the shed and peek in the open door. The twins, long and broad, are bent over their table, and they look delighted when they see you.

“You will join us, yes?” Van asks.

“We put the finishing touches on your spear.” Len adds as he presses your spear, which had shattered before you were conscripted, into your hands. It’s only the blade, with some of the handle left, making it more of a dagger than anything else.

“You really want me to come with you?”

“Of course we do.” Len beams at you as he tosses you your cloak, “As soon as you’re ready, we’re heading to the hunting grounds.”

You squint at him suspiciously, but tie your cloak around your neck and strap your spear to your hip, “Well, I’m ready-”

Quickly, very quickly, the twins usher you away from the shed and to the kelp forest that leads to the hunting grounds. Knowing them, they have their minds set on catching the largest of the deep sea fish, and bringing it home for mother to prepare.

It’s roughly three hours later, when the three of you stumble on something that you absolutely shouldn’t.

“Is that a Tritones War Party?” Van asks his twin as the three of you hide in the shadows of an outcropping. 

“It is, but…look.” You gesture to something that caught your eye, “Those are holy men and women. Look at their clothing.”

The twins glance at you, and then peer back at the War Party. Len scoffs, “She’s right. Look at the weapons. Why are the Tritones holy men attacking a Tritones war party?”

“Infighting?” Van asks, “Would only be good for us.”

“What d’ya think?” Len asks you.

You tilt your head, “The Tritones over there. That’s Montross, he’s King Jaster’s right hand. It looks like the Holy Men are answering to him.”

“Would make sense, I suppose. Who are they attacking, though?”

You move a little ways out of the shadow, to get a better look, and you exhale sharply. “The Tritones in the middle there, the one with the blue tail-”

“Yeah?”

“That’s the crowned prince of Atlantis.” You say flatly.

The twins are completely silent for a moment, their gazes locked on what they were seeing, “You know, I have heard a rumor that King Jaster was murdered-” Len muses.

“So killing the new king is, what, a coup? Supported by the holy men?” Van asks.

“Perhaps.” Len agrees, “Not our problem either way.”

You’re quiet for a moment, “I think we should save him.”

Identical eyes turn to look at you in disbelief. “Why?” Van asks, aghast.

You turn your thoughtful gaze away from Jango and to the twins, “I don’t know about you, but I’m rather tired of our cousins being sent off to die in a war.”

“Of course we are,” Len says, “But we can’t chang-” He stops mid-sentence, and then turns a calculating gaze towards the injured king, “We can work with that.”

It takes Van a moment before he understands where his twin’s thought process went, and then his gaze turns calculating as well. “We’ll have to save him first,” He notes.

“Well,” You murmur thoughtfully, “They are trespassing on our hunting grounds.” Twin pairs of eyes turn to you, and unholy glee crosses their faces. You’d feel guilty, if you weren’t sure that you had the exact same look on your face. 

“You collect the king,” Len orders you, “We’re going to have some fun.” The twins vanish into the dark, disappearing with such skill that even you have a hard time tracking them through the kelp.

You wait until you hear the first scream, and then you move, easing through the kelp cautiously, until you reach where Jango is laying. “You seem to be having a hard time,” You say lightly as you cut his bindings and then pull him into the kelp. 

“You…what?” Jango blinks at the back of your head as you easily propel him through the kelp. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my family’s land.” You reply, “My brothers are dealing with the people who are hunting you.”

“Oh.”

You keep pulling him until you’re safely outside the kelp forest, and back on the farm, “Here, you’ll be safe here.”

Jango looks around, and then turns his gaze back to you, “Why are you helping me?” He asks quietly.

“Well,” You pause, “It’s not wholly to be a good person,” You admit.

“I didn’t think it was,” Jango replies wryly, “So why did you help me.”

“Well, you’re a king without a kingdom, based on what I just saw. And my people are so tired of being sent to war to die for people who see us as little more than canon fodder.”

“So…you help me and I help you?”

“Pretty much.”

“I suppose that’s not a bad deal,” he murmurs, “Who do I have to talk to?”

You smile at him, “My grandfather.”

“Can you take me to him?” Jango asks.

“That is the plan, yes.” You reply cheerfully as you turn to lead him deeper into the village. 

You already have over a dozen plans and backup plans forming in your mind. And you know that your brothers and your extended family will also have plans forming as they realize exactly what opportunity they have in front of them.

You’d almost pity Jango, if you didn’t know that this was going to work out in his best interest. And yours.

A sly little smile crosses your face.

It’s time to change the game that your people have been playing for generations. This time it’ll be more in your favor.

[inkbagel]

I saw some other ppl writing their ideas for a better Minecraft movie and I had a fun idea so I figured I’d write it down

Starting off, Steve and Alex aren’t the main characters of this movie. They can show up as special guest appearances but for the most part they’re not in the movie. The movie is instead about two random kids since it’s a kids game and most people started playing when they were kids. One of these kids is several years older than the other and is more skilled at the game.

This could be taken a step further by making Steve and Alex played by these kids with their voices, bc those are the default skins. Steve is not white. Basically I’m saying in the movie the kids log onto Minecraft and look like Steve and Alex instead of themselves. This is all animated except for small short scenes of the kids in real life.

It starts off with a scene of the two kids at school. They’re both disliked by the other students and the older kid scolds the younger kid a lot for being weird. They eventually try to start playing Minecraft together.

the older kid has played the game way more, and is trying to show the younger kid how to play. The older kid is very serious about the game and is constantly upset at the younger kid for how they’re playing. They’re trying to build the best Minecraft base ever as the premise. They’re on a public server, and sometimes meet other people.

The younger kid is just enjoying the game. Picking flowers, finding pets, just having fun. They almost get killed many times but the older kid saves them.

They also spend their first night in a hole in the ground.

As it carries on the older kid gets increasingly frustrated at the younger kid for constantly getting them in danger and the younger kid just gets more sad bc they’re constantly getting pestered about existing. They go mining, go to villages, the nether, all sorts of places. The older kid every once in a while complains about some addition to the game being “useless”. Probably some kid of block.

They meet a player who tries to kill them and also raids their base. The older kid fights them off.

the older kid kills some mob the younger kid liked “for food” and they get in a fight. Idrc when this happens in the movie the important part is the older kid tells the younger kid to get over it and they need to survive somehow.

Since MCYTs are such an integral part of Minecraft, at LEAST one has to show up and more have to be mentioned. I’ve decided goodtimeswithscar is going to be in the movie. Just bc I like his content and he’s a sweet guy. They also mention etho bc they have to build a hopper clock for some reason.

The kids run into a gorgeous town all built by scar and meet him. Scar tells the older kid it’s okay to have a little whimsy and be a little bad at the game, he’s been building since he was “but a little boy” and even he still messes up frequently. The older kid doesn’t pay much attention to this advice yet.

Bringing this up again but they live in a hole. For most of the movie. The hole gets a little bigger over time so they can fit more stuff in it, but they won’t move out of the hole until their base is finished.

This whole time they’ve been gathering resources for their perfect base, except it’s pretty much mostly been the older kid.

Finally they start to build the base but the younger kid gets distracted by a new mob. Probably a bee. They have this magical moment of staring into its beautiful eyes before the older kid shows up to pull the younger kid away. The younger kid asks why the older kid is so adamant on finishing their base instead of taking their time. The older kid gets caught off guard. They say smth along the lines of “we can’t have fun until we finish the base.” And the younger kid responds with “we’ve been having fun. At least I have. I just wanted to play Minecraft with you but you keep making me play your way and I’m not having fun anymore. Why can’t we try my way for a bit?”

And then the younger kid hands the older kid a flower, and the bee looks at the older kid. The older kid sits there looking at the bee for a minute before the younger kid says “we don’t have to play the same way to have fun. I just wanted to play with you.”

The older kid looks really guilty, and the younger kid walks away and gets lost.

The player who tried to kill them earlier comes back! They spawn a wither. The younger kid sees this and starts screaming for help.

The older kid is working on the base, more sadly now, when they hear voices. They look in the distance to see the wither.

They drop everything and run to save the younger kid. They make up and kill the wither together. The older kid teaches the younger kid how to fight, and they protect their home (except most of it got destroyed, along with their pets.) I haven’t decided what happens to the troll player. They either die too or get banned from the server for griefing.

The older kid looks at the ruins of their base, before turning to the younger kid who’s crying over the dead bee. The older kid asks if they want to help them find a new bee. They do.

After finding a new bee, the younger kid asks what to do about not having a base. (Their hole got blown up too.) the older kid says they can just build a new one. they start to rebuild their base together. The younger kid plants flowers and gets new pets, the older kid works on the shape of the house. They use the blocks that the older kid had deemed useless at the start of the movie.

They finish the base. It’s not the best base ever, but you can see both kids personalities shining through the build. The movie ends with them walking into the base and one asks “see you at school tomorrow?”

I get it’s called “a Minecraft movie” bc there’s many good indie stories told in Minecraft, but at the same time, Warner bros. could be doing so much better. I don’t have an ending for this post since I just wanted to write this down somewhere. But yea that’s MY Minecraft movie.

[holewithinahole]

The Spirit's in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [1/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta'd

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Ao3 Link

Woopsies, I'm back to plaster my insecurities on fictional characters. This work is part of a two-part series which follows the events of the Ghostbusters primary canon. The first part, set during the first movie, will be cut in 3 smaller bits for Tumblr. When all parts will be posted, I'll upload it on Ao3. The parts are all written, so it'll be released soon enough.

I just want to do a little disclaimer. Usually my 'reader' characters are very loosely characterized so anyone can project on them. However, this reader might not fit everyone? I'm sorry about that. Overall, if you're autistic, on the aro/ace spectrum or just a tiny bit ND, you might feel more connection to the reader lmao.

Ah! Also, the science sucks, pls ignore. It can be read as a prequel to It's always the quiet ones, btw.

Summer, 1984

This is a good song, you think, the beat intense enough to distract the back of your brain as you write down the last advancements of your research. You’ve spent the entire month of July reading books and other scientists’ papers, but not managing – until now – to sit down and order the large number of notes you piled up. Running on the pure energy of your hyper-focused state, a dozen cups of coffee and a single chocolate bar, you definitely didn’t notice the man stepping into your lab, not until you randomly glanced up and met the disconcerted gaze of an unknown guest.

“Excuse me?” he mouths out.

You straighten in your chair so quickly your back snap.

“Ah! Yes! Sorry, what is it?” you stammer, taking out your headphones with shaky hands and fumbling with your Walkman.

The man stands at the entrance of the lab, strangely stiff, seemingly assessing his next course of action before taking exactly four steps toward your desk.

“I would like to borrow a soldering iron.” He rights his glasses up his long nose.

The first thing you take note of is the low modulation of his voice; an unusual pitch that seems to vibrate directly out of his chest. The second is his wide, rigid build. From your chair, he towers over you, and your neck is starting to hurt from stretching uncomfortably (it might just be your overall terrible posture.)

You’ve been staring a little too long so you clear your throat and get up. “And you are? Not that I’m unwilling to lend you a soldering iron but I can’t just give my tools to strangers–”

“Dr. Spengler, I work at the psychology pole of this university,” he interrupts.

He looks at you like you’ve got a stain right in the middle of your forehead. You glance away.

“Psychology? What do you intend to solder? A loose neuron?” You stand up, cracking up a joke nervously.

“I assure you I don’t conduct any dangerous experiments on unwilling subjects.”

Despite the tension, it’s the ‘unwilling’ that does it for you and you let out a chuckle. Finally meeting his eyes, the light frown he adorns is either one of incomprehension or irritation, making you drop the smile immediately.

“Uh–” you croak out before you decide better not to say anything. You both end up looking awkwardly at each other, and time seems to be stretching to amplify your discomfort – and probably his as well. It feels like orbiting a black hole while he’s rushing through the universe at 18.5 miles a second.

Smart enough to be a researcher, stupid enough to ruin a simple conversation.

Fingers fidgety, you walk away to rummage through your closets, taking out the tool and handing it to him. “I do intend to have it back soon, Dr. Spengler.”

There’s a slight hesitation in his hand before he takes it, nodding curtly. In your defense, you do try to smile, even if it’s an uptight, embarrassing attempt. Oddly enough, he doesn’t leave, staring at the iron for a couple of seconds.

Abruptly, he clears his throat, looking intently at your face. “I’m improving a prototype that detects the presence of paranormal entities and directs me to them using a boron-trifluoride counter tube and a platinum electrode.” He doesn’t even take a breath. “A component of the rate meter I installed seems to be defective, and the cable of my soldering iron broke while I was working.”

He comes to a sudden stop, mouth half-opened but doesn’t resume his explanation. At a loss on how to react –and surely gaping at him considering you weren’t expecting to be slapped across the face by a presentation on neutron detectors, you whisper a small: “I see.”

A nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth makes your stomach drop.

“Uh, I mean; you can borrow mine!” You let out a tiny laugh. “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong, screams your forgotten Walkman.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dr. Spengler didn’t come back to your lab after your disastrous first meeting. He did return the iron, though. You simply found it on your desk one morning at seven o'clock, electric cable neatly wrapped around the handle.

You were secretly hoping for the doctor to come back to your lab to hand the iron back, so you could have apologized and asked more about his work, about his degrees… anything really. You had planned the interaction at least thirty times, going through a series of ice-breaking sentences that all relied on the fact that he would be back. He had preferred to avoid you, which couldn’t compel you to go see him yourself. Clearly, you had left a bad impression, and anxiety wouldn’t let you go look for him to apologize.

In the meantime, intrigued by his academic history, you started going through published papers by Dr. Egon – you quickly learned – Spengler. And if you thought you couldn’t get more curious about this mystery of a man, you browsing through numerous seemingly random articles – like ‘Quantum tunneling in anastomosis formations and nuclear exchanges’ – made you raise many eyebrows. Your fascination reached new heights with his brilliant article on ionizing radiation, written in M.I.T. no less. Egon Spengler had become the person you wished to chat with the most yet the most inaccessible.

You can think of a million questions to ask him, a million conversations to have. Why ionizing radiations? Did he have an interest in cosmic particles? Were his studies on gamma radiation related to his microbiology degree? How did he end up working in the psychology aisle of Columbia? Could ectoplasms really be quantified as a network of negatively charged particles?

Your life became filled with thoughts of the doctor, so you blamed it all on professional curiosity and you pushed yourself back into your work. Labs have been deserted by most researchers, preferring to treat themselves to a well-earned vacation. Nothing you can’t agree with in essence but previously attempted vacations had instilled a strong feeling of dread in you: you showed yourself incapable of not visualizing the amount of unfinished work. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really, to be work-obsessed; you love your work. Summer in Columbia is peaceful, solitary but also desperately unstimulating. Researching alone is undoubtedly slower, especially in your field, and knowing there’s an ideal candidate for some great brainstorming a few buildings away is nerve-wracking.

After an entire month going by with no new interaction with Dr. Spengler – not even sighting him at the corner of a corridor, the awkwardness that made him run away fuels your guilt. However, the opportunity of meeting again with Dr. Spengler comes unexpectedly. It comes with a mandatory meeting with the dean of the academy.

“You’ve been summoned as well, uh?”

You snap out of your social distancing trance. “Sorry?”

Next to you stands another professor with an easygoing smile and a relaxed stance. “Dean Yaeger. He likes to summon us like he’s royalty,” he jokes followed by a low staccato of a laugh.

“Oh,” you pointlessly say. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

He offers his hand, showing another pearly-white-toothed smile. “I’m Dr. Ray Stantz, department of psychology.”

You offer your name back as you shake his hand. “Department of Physics.”

“Neat.” Dr. Stantz grins. “You should drop by our aisle sometimes. Spengs has a degree in physics; I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Egon Spengler, my colleague and friend.”

“Oh.” How you despise idle chatting. “I know him. He came to my lab to borrow a soldering iron about a month ago.”

“Venkman – our other colleague, forced him to go ask; he was so grumpy after being stopped in the middle of his experiment.” Dr. Stantz sure does enjoy making conversation. “He returned it, right?”

You have the impression he already knows the answer. “Yes, he did.”

“What field of physics do you specialize in by the way?” he asks excitedly. You have to say his jolly attitude is endearing, slowly getting you more at ease.

“High-energy physics.”

“That’s amazing, man. ‘actually wish I knew more about it. You should definitely swing by our lab soon. You can take a look at what we’ve–”

“Ah. Dr. Stantz.” Dean Yeager has the most distasteful expression on his face. “You may come in.”

Dr. Stantz gives you an apologetic look as Yaeger nods at you. You remain standing in front of the door, anxiety spiking up. Now you have no other choice than to go, or it’ll be rude, right?

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It took you more than a week of conditioning to get your ass moving, leading you, once more, in front of a closed door. You have to say, this part of the psychology department is far from what you’ve imagined. You wonder what Dr. Stantz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler did to offend Dean Yaeger to the point of being located in the university equivalent of a demilitarized zone. No wonder they need to borrow equipment from the physics department. The bright red ‘Burn in hell Venkman’ tagged on the door isn’t the most welcoming sight either.

You reluctantly raise your hand and knock four times. The shuffling you hear inside almost makes you run away. But thankfully – or miserably you’re still unsure about that one, an unknown man opens the door. Dr. Venkman, you guess.

A lazy smile stretches on his face. “Can I help you?” There’s a low edge to his voice, something that’s intended and practiced.

You try not to come out as too appalled. “I’m looking for Dr. Spengler.”

Dr. Venkman raises an eyebrow, and you immediately chastise yourself. At that moment, you see Dr. Spengler popping his head behind him and you lose your train of thought… and your words. “Uh, Dr. Stantz told me to–”

Dr. Venkman opens his eyes almost comically wide, pivoting slowly between Dr. Spengler and yourself. “Aaal-right. You know what; I have to meet up with Veronica of the literature department so– I’ll leave you guys to it.” He claps obnoxiously on his friend’s shoulder before departing, sliding past you while whistling some tune.

You watch him go, slightly distracted when Dr. Spengler grabs your attention again. “Dr. Stantz isn’t here today.”

“Ah, I see…” No wait–

“He’ll be here tomorrow at 8 am.” He angles his body towards the inside of the room like he’s wanting to go back to what he was previously doing.

“Actually,” you force out, heart at the edge of your lips. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Only the small widening of his eyes behind his frames indicates his surprise because his voice remains soft-spoken. “Apologize for?”

Better to be honest than invent a stupid excuse he’ll probably spot immediately. “Yes, I clearly made you uncomfortable last time. I was only trying to idle-chat, but I’m terrible at it.”

“What makes you think you made me uncomfortable?” Dr. Spengler asks.

A few seconds pass. “…because I went out of my way by questioning whether or not you had the knowledge to speak about particle physics?”

“Did you?” You realize he’s probably genuinely asking, not as a way to rile you up but as a way to understand. Somehow, it calms your nerves. Just a little.

“No,” you say. “I’m sorry… you just looked upset when you left.”

He faces you completely this time, taking his time to answer. “Then I’m the one apologizing. I was grateful for your help, but I failed to show it.”

Some part of you wonders if it’s entirely true. You brush it off. “It’s alright. I guess we’re not good at understanding social cues, uh?”

He seems to be pondering something. “I’ve been told that before.”

You chuckle. There’s a tension off his shoulders, and you thank Dr. Stantz internally.

“I’m actually working on a prototype of particle thrower. Your input would be appreciated.”

“A what?!”

[stationintern]

soft hands and glowing eyes (T)

Draco/Harry Morning After, Temporary Amnesia, One incredibly hungry cat This is, really, very silly. I was initially going to have the narrator be an incredibly judgemental, omniscient, nature documentarian. But, the cat's perspective just came naturally. Enjoy this ridiculousness while I get my writing gears going again.

Oh god, you look horrible. Your lips are all cracked and sticking to your teeth, there’s all that crust around your eyes, and, Jesus, the hair. I shouldn’t even be in here. This is sad. 

I can’t believe you’re just now waking up at… two-thirty in the afternoon. That’s fine, Harry. I’ll just starve. It’s not like you’ve placed my food container in the back of the highest cupboard, so I am forced to wait as you hobble out of your room every morning. I wish I could have thanked your guest properly last night, but I was so sleepy and didn’t realize he’d left your bedroom door open until after he’d left.

He wasn’t one of your usuals. He was prettier, and pet my head before he went. The other ones never do that. Plus, he gave me the chance to do this–

Thwack.

“Mmmph.”

Wake up. You have things you need to take care of! Me, specifically. Please. Do I have to do it again? 

Thwack.

“Fuck, Fluffy.”

Good, you’re alive. I was beginning to worry.

“You’re not going to starve.”

I am, though. I really am going to starve if you don’t get up. Can’t you see how hollow and sunken I am? I must have lost ten pounds last night, and you don’t even care. At least your guest had the good manners to call me pretty and pet me. I should go find him, let him take care of me–

“Oh, but you’re so–” 

Okay, fine. You do have quite the knack for petting. I would never tell you this, in case your head gets even bigger. I already have to watch you struggle to pull your undershirts on over that melon.

“How did you get in here last night?”

You ask me so many questions, yet refuse to learn my language. Even if you could understand me, I would never incriminate your guest. I want him to come over again. He smelled like pumpkins. His hands were smooth.

“Wait–”

Looking around your room suspiciously should not be at the top of your priority list right now, boy! Me. I am the priority list. Oh, of course. Now you decide to organize. Actually, you’re making everything worse. I don’t know how you live like this, truly. I may not have to know, since I will no longer be living if you keep getting distracted–

“Yes, Fluffy, I hear you. Just–”

Is my food on top of your desk? On the bookshelf? Under the bed? I don’t think so. Kitchen. The kitchen is where we need to go. Onwards.

“Fuck, who the hell–”

It doesn’t look like you're holding my food container. It looks like you’re holding a shirt. I wish I could hold things. Then I could open that damned cupboard. The entire reason I keep you around is your ability to open that cupboard, and you’re still not doing it. I thought relationships were supposed to be 50-50? You fill my bowl. I grace you with my presence. It’s so simple, and yet you’re holding that shirt and staring at it. What has it been? Two hours? It feels like it.

“Hermione,” you mumble. You always do that right before you go to the telephone. I don’t like the look of this– oh, and there you go. To the telephone, not the cupboard. Cool. Fine.

“Just a minute, Fluffy.”

Just a minute. Then it’ll be another minute, and then another, and soon enough I’ll be belly-up in front of my fossilized food bowl. I hope you’re kind enough to hold a proper funeral for me when I’m gone–

“‘Mione, did you see me leave the reception last night?”

The wedding. God, you wouldn’t stop moaning about it, and I couldn’t even interject. It’s a shame I never got to meet Ginny. Anyone who can make you this miserable must be a hoot.

“Who was I with?”

Do you really not remember your guest? He was quite memorable to me, with his soft hands and pumpkin smell and shiny hair. His eyes glowed. How could you not remember the man with the glowing eyes?

“Oh, you’re joking.”

I’ve learned, after three years of listening in on your phone calls, that when you say “you’re joking,” usually, the person you’re talking to is not joking.

“No. No, no, no. There’s no way– No. Malfoy?”

Malfoy. Is this the man with the glowing eyes? Tell me, Harry, before my premature death, is this the man with the glowing eyes?

“Shit. Fuck. I never– God, and I have to pick up my broom at his shop…” 

You’ve placed your hand over your eyes. Never a good sign. 

“This is a disaster. Do you think he remembers?”

He probably remembers me. Unlike you-

“Should I just– I don’t know. I don’t know!”

Stop throwing your hands up in the air like that. You almost knocked over the fern. That was going to be my after-dinner activity, and it’s not as fun if you’ve already done it yourself.

“I’m gonna go over– Yeah, no. I’m gonna go over there right now.”

The hell you are. You look like shit, your breath smells worse than mine, and my food bowl is still empty. If we want your guest to come back, we have a lot of work to do before you leave this house.

“Terrified, but It’ll be fine… Yeah, I’ll let you know. Bye. Love you.”

Finally. After three long years– wait, why are you going back in your room? Wait! Wait! I’m coming, wait–

Oh, you arsehole. I’m going to reach my paw so far under this door– I’m gonna– You’re not even ready for the day I figure out how to use a doorknob. You think I’m annoying now? If I just– I’m so close. I’m gonna do it. Watch me. It’ll twist-

Fine, damnit. I’ll shift my schedule around and knock over the fern now. Ugh, but then you’ll have to pick it up. Okay, option two. I’ll lay down in front of my bowl and plot my revenge for later. Yes, I’ll do that. What are you even doing in there? 

I could jump up and grab that curtain again. I know you hate that screaming lady. I actually don’t mind her. She always tells me how cute I am in between insulting you–

Oh, welcome back to my domain. You… you actually look quite nice. How’d you get presentable so fast? I like what you’ve done with your hair. You should’ve worn the blue shirt, but black works, I guess. You look fine. At least if I starve, I won’t have to stare at your hideous morning form while I do it.

“I’m sorry, Fluffy. I know you’re hungry.”

Yes! I am! I do not forgive you. 

Open the cupboard, open the cupboard, open the–

Beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, you’ve brushed your teeth, and you’re finally opening the cupboard. Maybe you’re not so bad. Yes. Open the container. Yes, yes, yes! 

Victory, at last. Crunch. I can feel my– crunch– strength returning already. God– crunch, crunch, crunch.

Alright boy, now that our business is done, go speak to our guest. Bring him over for dinner. I’d like to see his glowing eyes again.

“Bye, Fluffy. Wish me luck.”

Good luck, Harry. Good luck.

***

The man with the glowing eyes is here again. He’s in the kitchen. If he reaches behind the kettle, he’ll find that package of treats I’ve been trying to figure out how to open. Maybe he’ll do it for me. Oh! He’s reaching… and he’s reaching… and he’s found them! Oh, that beautiful man. You called him Draco.

Draco with the glowing eyes and the soft hands. I like him.

He’s given me three treats! You always give me a measly one. How is that meant to be a treat? Such a tease. Now he’s walking back to your room, and if I can slip around his legs just so–

“Could you close the door?”

You are such a dickhead, you know that?

“Why?”

Draco asks the important questions. Finally, someone who understands me. 

“Fluffy will get in.”

“Is that a problem?”

“She’s a menace. You’ll see.”

Oh shit. He’s picking me up. Yes, behind the ears. Perfect. Harry, he’s perfect.

“She’s so adorable, though. Look at her little face. Awe, you’re not a menace, are you?”

I refuse to answer that question.

“She is.”

“Come on. Can’t she sleep in here? Just one night?”

You’re rolling your eyes. This is no way to respond to the requests of our guest. 

“Fine. Fluffy, you’d better be good. No scratching Draco in the morning.”

I would never scratch this fine specimen of a man. How dare you even imply–

“She’ll be good.”

Finally, someone who can speak for me in this house. Yes, set me on the bed, Draco. Your couch is too flat. Did you know that, Harry? Now, I must situate. Oh, this is perfect. If I just set myself on top of both of your legs. Yes, that’s nice.

This is nice.

“I’m glad you came over tonight,” you say, but you’re not talking to me.

“I’m glad, too. I may have to come over more often. Who will defend Fluffy if I’m not here?”

“She defends herself.”

“Let me have my excuses, Potter.”

“Fine. Come over and defend Fluffy whenever you like.”

Yes, Draco. Do that.

If you liked this, feel free to give it some love over on ao3!

[axel-skz]

Your behaviour is so…UGHH

A/N: this is my first post. I’m kind of just writing it because I really want something super angsty right now 💀 (I’m listening to music and ive shuffled all of stray kids music and drive just came on LMAO)

Summery: Chan had been working late for a while but today was important, he missed Y/Ns birthday.

Bang chan x Gender neutral reader

Chan had been late again. All week he had worked late but you expected that he would atleast be home for your birthday. You had a party and you had reminded him atleast 12 hundred times. He was your most important guest. He had reassured you again and again that he would be there.

You had been looking forward to today for so long. You tried never to get in the way of your boyfriends work because you knew how important it was to him.

But in your heart, you felt it when he was away a lot.

Secretly in your mind, today would be special because you had a legitimate reason for him to be there. You would have a day to show off your favourite person in the world.

But it didn’t happen. As every hour ticked by, your heart broke a little more. You spent the party constantly glancing at the clock. Most of your friends didn’t mention him not being there. Although you had expressed your excitement to them multiple times in the days before.

The looks of pity felt as though they were burning your resolve ever so slowly.

When everyone left, you sat in the middle of your room on the floor, staring at the wall of the now very messy room. Tears pouring down your face.

It felt like you were alone in this relationship. You tried your best to be there at every one of his milestones. Every time he had an important event or just his birthdays. Not only for him but all the members.

It took so much of you to go to award shows. An event where you both had to pretend you didn’t know each other outside of work. But you were there. Because he was. Moral support.

You sat there for a while with no sense of time until your phone buzzed.

A tiny part of you hoped that it was him.

It wouldn’t do much now though would it?

It was your most consistent friend, pinterest. You let out a strangled laugh. Then you took a breath and started to clean everything. Once that was done, you started to pack.

Enough was enough.

It was very late into the night when you got done with all of this.

As you finished clearing the apartment of your things, you heard the front door unlock. The sheer amount of panic that started to course through you was terrifying.

You froze for a second when you heard steps approaching you.

He opened the bedroom door while looking at his phone.

‘Hey baby, you still up? Its- uh, you going somewhere?’ He said as he noticed your bags.

‘I’m going away… for a while…’ You said while looking down.

He started to look worried, ‘away? Away where? How long’s a while? Why do you need to go?’ He put the stuff he was holding on a side table.

‘Chan, I need to leave. I can’t be here. Its too much for me to constantly feel like I’m waiting for you,’ you hurried with gathering the last of your things.

‘What? Waiting for me…? Why? What happened?’ He started walking over to you but you backed up. He stopped, instantly with a look of hurt.

‘Have you seen the date?’ With that, his face dropped. He nervously laughed.

‘No no no, that’s not today, its not-’ he took his phone out and saw the date. He was stunned. ‘I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn your birthday was tomorrow…I was too distracted all day to be able to get to my phone.’

You looked so hurt, ‘now you won’t have to worry about remembering things. Things that aren’t as important. I won’t bother you with anything.’

You grabbed your things and made a move to the door but he moved to block you.

‘It is important! I was just really distracted. I had so much going on in my mind that I lost track of time. I swear, I’ll make it up to you, just don’t leave,’ he pleaded.

‘You still have to make up for the last 3 dates you missed. What? Should I tack this onto the list? But also be mindful because you will take on 3 more projects at the start of the next week.’ You couldn’t do it anymore. It was constantly one thing after another. You constantly felt like the bad guy but you wanted to be supportive and he said he would try. But then he didn’t. He always had a reason not to. And you couldn’t do it anymore.

‘You know I’m not doing it on purpose. It’s just part of my work,’ he looked so worn out, you had to look away otherwise you would give up.

‘I can’t do this right now. And from the looks of things, you can’t either. Trying just isn’t cutting it anymore. I need to be anywhere but here.’

‘Y/N please… I can try harder… I’ll find a way… just… don’t leave…’ his voice breaking.

‘If you care about me even a little, don’t say anything else. Just let me go. Atleast for a bit. I need to do this,’ you started to leave again but he didn’t stop you. He stood there, still. Looking at the floor.

And you left. Not knowing what would happen next. When or if you would even see him again.

Note: please remember to like or reblog (I’m not too sure how tumblr works lmao)

Gimme suggestions on prompts you might want :)

Part 2

[I’ve tried to look over it but if there’s anything that isn’t gender neutral about the reader, lemme know and I’ll fix it]

[maweallgotohell]

Heyyy ik you’re working on something rn, but if you still want to do requests I’d request something fluffy with Jerome… like cuddling or being touchy or whatever. I’m a hoe for fluffy soft stuff, personally :)

Hey hun <3

Thank u sm for your request.

And sorry I’m so late with this 🥲

I literally have 27 story drafts for the Cam character stuff and 3 stories I started to write, and somehow I’m working on all of them from time to time but somehow I need so fuckin‘ long to finish 'em.

But requests are something to distract myself from those if I’m having kind of a writers block on them so here we fuckin‘ go, baby!

————————————

Fluffy Jerome would include:

• him being touchy. Literally all the time.

I’m sorry, but I can’t see this guy ever letting go of you, honey, nah ah.

He is always touching you, in whatever way. It doesn’t have to be holding hands all the time, even tho he loves that. How your small and soft hand fits in his large and rough ones so perfectly - It’s just chef’s kiss honestly.

When you two watch TV and sit on the couch together, cuddled up in a warm and cozy blanket, that’s big enough for the two of you, you mostly lean against him. First with just your shoulder and then with your head.

He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt the comfortable silence while watching some nostalgic disney movie,

but he nearly always puts an arm around your shoulder, laying his hand onto the top of your head, pulling you closer in the motion. Then he just softly caresses your hair with his thumb while smiling to himself when you cuddle yourself up into his side even more. It’s just so cute tbh.

He also can’t stop smiling when you two are literally anywhere and you intertwine your pinky fingers. It’s just so fuckin‘ cute to him. Like a lost puppy. And he does that sometimes too. Jerome holding physical contact>>>>

• yeah, as I already mentioned, I’m hardly convinced he loves watching Disney movies

And I believe that his inner child is obsessed with the Disney princesses. Those movies are his favorite.

When you watch those, he always criticizes if the prince, or whoever “saves“ the princess, does something stupid while trying to save her. He then explains to you, how he would save you in such a situation, which would obv be a way sm better than theirs, because u are his princess and his plan to save you would be bulletproof.

Even tho it’s a joke, he makes up those plans kinda seriously, because he wouldn’t ever risk losing you. Ever.

He‘d also appear randomly and sing Disney songs. I’m fuckin serious darling.

You’re in the kitchen, making pancakes?

Not without musical accompaniment, babe.

The kitchen door swings open and your bf storms in, blasting ‚Be our guest‘ from Beauty and the Beast on full volume while dancing gracefully around the kitchen, acting like Lumière and knowing literally every. single. word and phrase.

He should’ve gone to broadway instead of becoming a serial killer.

First, you always break out in laughter, obv. But then you join in. How couldn’t u, really?

Couple goals, if u ask me.

• okay here comes another thing I literally ALWAYS imagine happening when yourein a relationship with him.

Like, you obv think he’s pretty. Super incredibly pretty. And most of the time he isn’t really insecure about anything but he has his moments where he feels like not being enough for you. Which obv isn’t true.

You then always take a moment to really tell him how much he means to you.

You also have these random moments where you just realize over and over again how much you love him. Like, obv you know that, but I think we all know these moments where we look at a person we know and suddenly this wave of admiration washes over us? This can’t be only me guys.

Like imagine you two preparing dinner or something and you take a quick glance at him slicing tomatoes but you’re not able to take your eyes off of him.

Eventually he notices and looks back at you questioningly but amused.

„ Yn, you good? Do I have something on my face?“

You shake your head. Then you take a step forward and put a hand on his cheek, tracing his scars with your thumb.

„ What is it then?“

You follow your thumb with your eyes, admiring every single inch of his face.

„Nothing…“, you say, still not looking him in the eyes.

„You’re just so pretty.“

GIRL WHEN I TELL YOU HIS HEART MELTS?

IT‘S DRIPPING ON THE FLOOR.

He loves these moments just as much as you do. Sometimes he still can’t get his head around the fact that somebody, and then even such a cute, loving and beautiful person like you, really genuinely loves him so much.

Sometimes he even shed a tear but psst-

Don’t tell the rest of the league ;)

Jk he wouldn’t really give a fuck if anyone saw him crying. His masculinity isn’t that fragile and those are tears of joy at that so yeah

Our baby is a slaying queen-

Anyone making fun of him could end up with a bullet right between the eyes so there isn’t really a risk of that as well

But he mostly just doesn’t cry. After the abusive time with his mom, he somehow just stopped crying. He shed so many tears through that time, that there kinda weren’t any left.

And if he cries, he just does it in your presence, because you’re his comfort person and he knows he’s safe with you.

It’s so cute-

————————

Hope u like it. I‘ll edit this later if you don’t mind-

And I’ll probably post more of this kinda stuff bcs tf this is cute so yeah.

If anything you had in mind wasn’t in here, feel free to let me know <3