#SEE I TRY TO STICK TO THE PROMPTS LOL
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oneforthemunny · 2 months ago
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christmas with the devil |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|
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prompt: even the dirty magazines are in the holiday spirit. after you and eddie stumble upon a particularly interesting magazine, you both are inspired by the spirit of the season.
apart of my munny's merriest series!
contains: minors dni smut. dom/sub themes. dom!eddie x sub!reader. spanking. spanking with implement. switching. pinv sex. a little roleplay lol? all consensual and sweet. they're kinda nerdy and i love them. eddie hates christmas, reader loves it. they're in love.
“Can you hurry up?” Your eyes cut around the abnormally crowded comic book store, chin ducking towards your chest as if all their eyes were on you.  
Bundles of teenagers, kids, parents all gathered around and looking through the stacks of Marvel issues, while you and your boyfriend trudged towards the scandalous back area. Marked off with a rope that held a sign, ‘Adults Only’ in bold print and was the vault for the more risquĂ© magazines. 
“Relax, baby, we’re both adults.” Eddie cooed, a smirk in his tone that had your teeth gritting with annoyance. “We’ll be in and out, I promise.”  
“I don’t know why they have to make it so obvious.” You muttered, sliding past the rope and scurrying into the tiny room, filled with X-Rated magazine covers. “The rope seems like a little much.” 
Eddie snickered, his hand finding your waist, pulling you into him. “I kinda like it. Feels like they’re giving me the VIP treatment.” 
You rolled your eyes, but stayed flush against him, his chest warm on your frostbitten skin. “VIP treatment while you buy your porno magazines.” Your nail brushed over the edge of a Playboy, lifting a brow up at Eddie pointedly. 
“It’s not a porno magazine,” Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “It’s just made by Penthouse, but it’s more sci-fi than-” 
“-I know, Ed.” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temple. “You know I don’t care. I just hate coming in here.” You looked around, the dim lights and tight corners all plastered with vulgar photos. “Just feel skeezy.” 
“Skeezy?” Eddie grinned down at you. “Some of our best ideas came from this room, baby.” 
Your cheeks burned with a rush of heat, eyes cutting to the door carefully. It was true. You had many Fotoplays Magazines to thank for some of your favorite tricks in the bedroom. The countless times you and Eddie would flip through the dirty magazines, oohing and awing at the photos and stories, bookmarking pages that sparked your excitement to try later. 
“There it is.” Eddie’s chains jingled with his steps, pulling you out of your thoughts. You frowned, following his ringed hand towards the Omni Magazine cover. 
“Look at this. This looks so fuckin’ sick, doesn’t it? UFO Edition. This one’s gonna be all about aliens and shit.” Eddie grinned, bubbling with nerdy excitement you found overwhelmingly endearing. 
“Mhm,” You hummed, though you only partially heard him, your attention caught by the magazine in front of you. 
Eddie’s smile dropped, looking up at you with a furrowed brow, following your line of vision to what had captivated your attention over him. “What’d ya see, babe?” Eddie muttered, a low gravel in his tone that had you shivering. 
“What’s this?” You pointed at the cover. There on the glossy page, a goat-like demon with bat wings lifting a bundle of sticks high in the air, ready to bring them down on a woman’s bottom. Her ass stuck high up in the air, clad in lingerie, face animated with excited fear. 
“Krampus,” Eddie read, pointing at the golden cursive font below the image. “Hm, I don’t really know. Looks cool though, doesn’t he?” He grinned, nudging you playfully. 
“Looks like your little Hellfire mascot thingy.” You nodded back, picking up the magazine. 
Eddie’s brows lifted, suddenly, no longer interested in his Omni, tossing it back on the shelf, too consumed with the magazine capturing your attention. “You want to get this too?” 
“No, you don’t have to. I was just looking to see what it’s about.” You hummed, flipping through the pages until you found the cover story, an erotic retelling of the European Christmas demon. 
“Punishes those who misbehave with birch rods.” Eddie grinned, adjusting himself shamelessly behind you. His mind was racing, flooded with excited, devious ideas with every image. “Seems like you need Krampus to visit you.” 
“Nuh-uh,” Your tongue clicked, glaring at Eddie. “Why would you say that? I’ve been such a good girl this year.” 
“Psh, please,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “You’ve been such a bad girl.” His voice dropped,  breath tickled the shell of your ear, leaving you quaking with excitement. 
“No, I haven’t.” Your whine sounded more like a mewl, gripping the magazine so tightly the pages were creasing under your grasp. 
“I guess we’ll find out.” Eddie shrugged, pulling away from you, plucking the magazine out of your hand, tucking it under his arm with the other. “See if Krampus visits you tonight.” The wink he gave you left your tummy flipping with heat, following him to the counter on shaky legs, mind racing with excitement of what was to come. 
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“Well, well, well,” You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s voice, booming from the doorway behind you. He’d been stowed away in his room since you got home, only telling you not to come in- that he had a surprise for you. 
“Look what we have here.” Eddie waved the rolled up paper around in his hands, grinning at you as he took slow, calculated steps closer and closer to you. 
“What’s that?” You frowned, shoving the stack of folded dish towels into the drawer. 
Eddie’s tongue rolled over the inside of his cheek, looking at you with a positively primal glare. “Looks like this year’s naughty list just came in.” Eddie sucked in a breath, shaking his head exaggeratedly. “And I’ve got some real bad news for you, babe.” 
You feigned surprise, matching his playful, dramatic tone. “No,” You gasped lightly. “Don’t tell me I’m on that list. There’s no way. I’ve been sooo good this year.”  
He could kiss you, right then and there. How easily you played along, gave right into his dramatics without question. How perfect you were for him. He’d tell you after this, later when you were curled into him, sharing soft kisses and softer touches. But for now, he had a part to play. 
“This list begs to differ,” Eddie shrugged dramatically, shaking his head, unrolling the list he’d been working on. There in gothic, cursive font was your name, listed under the intimidatingly gloomy ‘Naughty’ side.  “And unfortunately there’s nothing I can do about it.” 
“This has to be a mistake. I’ve been nothing but a good girl this year. Perfect.” You quipped, stepping towards him. 
“No, this list doesn’t lie, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head, toe to toe with you now, looking at you down the slope of his nose. “You’ve been naughty this year, and you know what that means?” 
You shook your head, playing coy while your lashes batted at him. Eddie swore his heart was going to burst right out of his chest. 
“It means you’ll have to take your lashing from Krampus.” Eddie shook his head at you. 
“My lashing?” You gawked lightly, a giggle of surprise bubbling out of your chest. “I thought naughty girls got coal in their stockings.” You frowned, lip jutting in a gentle pout towards him. 
“Not around here they don’t.” Eddie grinned, a darkness to his eyes that had your heart rushing with floods of excitement. “Naughty girls around here get a visit from Krampus if they’ve been bad. They get corrected for their bad behavior.” 
“Well, I don’t want to be naughty.” You sighed heavily, really playing it up for him. You could see how much he was loving this. “I’ll do whatever I have to, to get off that list.” 
Eddie swallowed back a grin, nodding slowly instead. His footsteps fell heavy on the kitchen floor, striding over towards the stove, pulling the designated junk drawer open for the cutting pliers. You squirmed under his intense gaze when he brought them back, handing them to you, neither one of you breaking eye contact from the other. 
“Go get me eight good ones from the tree in the front, alright? Make ‘em good ones.” Eddie nodded at you. 
Your legs felt like they might give out slipping on your boots, wrapping Eddie’s jacket around you, climbing down the creaking steps of the trailer. It was cold out, everything dried and dead for the winter- it made the perfect time to pick a switch. 
Eddie watched from the doorway, fingers drumming with excitement taking in every branch you’d pick. How you’d examine it carefully before tossing it to the side or adding it to the collection in your hand. It consumed him with excitement, cock throbbing with exhilaration. 
“Will these do?” You held the branches towards him, after what felt like an eternity, standing on the steps, waiting for his approval. 
Eddie carefully looked at each one, swishing them through the air, before nodding. “Very good.” He gave you a curt nod. “So you can be good then, hm?” 
You blistered under his gaze, burning with excitement as you kicked off your boots, chin ducking so he couldn’t see your flustered grin. “I always try to be good.” 
Eddie snorted in laughter. “Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically. “Now, you’re back on the naughty track. You know better than to lie.” 
You glared at him, huffing with a pout, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it on the hook. “I’m not lying.” 
Eddie’s brows lifted, in shock or in warning, you weren’t sure. “You better watch your tone with me.” Eddie pointed at you, waving a branch near you to make his point. “You’re not in much of a position to be mouthy.” 
You bit back a snarky reply, lip jutting further instead, trailing behind Eddie towards the living room. Eddie laid the branches out, lining them up evenly on the coffee table in front of you. 
“Hold on,” You stilled at the sound of his voice, stopping before you knelt into position in front of the couch. “Go ahead and strip f’me.” Eddie’s eyes rolled over your frame. 
Your hands shook with excitement, trembling when you took off your jeans shoving them to the ground, pulling your sweater off with a rough tug, giving them a half hearted fold and placing them on the recliner. Your nipples pebbled in the cold of the room, maybe from your own excitement. 
Eddie gave you a nod of approval before he left the room, silently going to the kitchen. You sunk to your knees on the shagged carpet, spine straightening long and eyes forward; you were on your best behavior, after all.
The soft screech of duct tape tore through the living room before Eddie could enter, the silver tape in his hand, teeth tearing off the end of the long strip. He made a show of wrapping the bundle of wood together, looking at you with dark eyes while he wound the tape over the switches to keep them together. 
“Why don’t you go ahead and bend over the back of the couch for me, hm?” Eddie nodded, twisting the tight bundle in his hands. “You know how I want you.” 
You swallowed back a shiver when you stood, every inch of your exposed skin tingling with a prickling heat of excitement. Arms stretched out in front, you lowered yourself over the arm of the couch, elongating yourself and propped nicely so your ass was high in the air.
“I think twelve will suffice, don’t you?” Eddie hummed, eyes scanning your features for even a quip of uncertainty- he was good like that. “One for each month.” 
You nodded, shifting from foot to foot, desperate to alleviate the aching that was ever growing between your legs. “Yes, Sir,” Your voice lilted to an airy, positively sweet coo. It made Eddie’s cock lurch, throb with blinding pleasure that left him reeling. 
“Look at me,” Eddie’s hand squeezed your hip lightly, pulling your eyes back to his. “That’s good?” 
You nodded, pushing up on your forearms. “That’s good, Ed.” You gave him a soft smile. “If it’s too much, I’ll let you know.” 
Eddie couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his features. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss you, but he’d wait, for now anyway. 
“Why don’t you count them for me too then?” You jumped at the feeling of the branches on the back of your thighs, scratchy and rough. Oh, this was going to burn, you could already feel it. You throbbed between your legs at the thought. 
A thundering crack of his palm left you gasping, hips tensing over the arm of the couch in surprise. “Did you hear me?” 
“Y-Yes, Sir,” You babbled, tongue thick in your mouth, head spinning with pleasure. “I’m sorry, Sir.” 
Eddie tutted mockingly, shaking his head. “I don’t know if you’re cut out for the nice list, baby. Sure isn’t seeming like you’re gonna make the cut after all.” 
“Noo,” Your lip jutted out in a whine. “I am good, please, I’ll be good.” 
Eddie tapped the bundle of switches against your ass lightly. “We’ll see about that.” He muttered. “Make sure you count loud for me. Loud and clear.” You nodded, lowering your chin back onto the cushion before you. 
A whispering swish of wind was your only warning before you felt the familiar searing of heat across your ass, this time in multiples instead of the singular switching you’d had before. It wasn’t as hard as usual, Eddie’s uncertainty with the newness of this shining through, but enough to have you hissing, dancing from foot to foot at the sting. 
“One,” You hissed through gritted teeth, fist balling to keep from reaching back, running out the itchy sting. 
The second hit came a little harder than before, enough to leave you whining at the impact. “Two,” 
Your voice tightened with every blow, lifting into near squeaks until number eight. “Ei-Eight,” Followed by a wet sniffle, and a pathetic little mewl. 
Eddie grinned, running his hand over your hot skin, lines of his handiwork already beginning to show. He took mercy on you, giving you a soft rub that he knew you were craving, fighting from doing yourself. 
“You’re doing very good, baby.” Eddie cooed, grinning as you rubbed your teary face into your arms, soothing the burn in your nose, trying to hide your tears. “Looks like you might make it on the nice list afterall.” 
“Thank you,” You gave a squeaky whisper, face still buried under your arms. 
Eddie gave your right cheek a firm squeeze, grinning at how you screeched. “I’ll do these last ones quick, how’s that sound? Since you’ve been so good.” Truthfully, Eddie wasn’t sure he could last much longer. Not with the little sounds you’d make that drove him wild, blind with pleasure. Not with the way he could see how wet you were, get an agonizing glimpse between your legs every time you’d shift that left his mouth watering. 
You nodded silently, and he didn’t correct you, too blinded with his own intense pleasure. The final four came down in quick, crescendoing successions that had you lifting up off the couch, voice squeaking through sobs as you counted them, squirming desperately to get away. 
The sound of his zipper followed the crunching thud of the switch bundle being tossed on the carpet. Your eyes glossy already, cheek pressed to the couch, tears and a string of drool pooling carelessly beneath you. 
“Am I on the nice list now?” You whimpered, so soft and airy, lashed batting up at Eddie sweetly. He thought he might burst, through his heart or maybe through his dick. 
“Fuck yeah, yes, baby.” Eddie kicked his jeans off, hand wrapping around his throbbing length, stroking himself enough to alleviate some of the aching throb of pleasure. 
“Definitely on the nice list. The top of it too. You’re such a good girl, you know that? You do know that don’t you?” He gave you a wide grin, body folding over yours and placing a kiss on your left shoulder blade, erection rubbing against the hot, sensitive skin of your ass. 
“C’mere,” Eddie muttered, pulling you by your hips closer to him, shamelessly rubbing himself into you. “Let me take care of you now, baby. You want that? Hm, that sound good?” 
“Yes,” You whimpered, hips rolling back towards him, desperate for friction. “Don’t tease me, Ed.” 
He let out a small laugh, fingers sliding through your slick, sopping folds, circling your clit, grinning at how you shuddered. “I won’t tease. You’ve been so good, I won’t tease you, baby.” Eddie muttered, pressing a final soft kiss the the middle of your spine, before he pushed himself in, bottoming out and stilling just for a moment, eyes rolling back in pleasure. 
He fucked you over the couch, hard and messy, furiously rutting into you while his fingertips made bruises on your hips from his grip. The way you were taking him, walls squeezing him just right, both you spend collecting at the base of his cock; he decided that you were definitely on the nice list, top of it. On his, at least, his perfect, nice, good girl. 
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago
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Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago đŸ˜« so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day đŸ©” :)
For The Weak And Weary
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PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?
WORDCOUNT: 6.2k
WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.
A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was
damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.
And this was entirely new to you.
He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 
But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 
You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.
But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.
If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.
“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 
It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 
He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you
how could eyes be so dead?
“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or
or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 
Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 
Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”
“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”
The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”
“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”
“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 
A stiff silence falls.
“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.
“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.
You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 
Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 
You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 
He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami
all gone
at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 
When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 
And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 
So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 
But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 
Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 
Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 
In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 
A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.
Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 
How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was
was everyone dead?
Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 
All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.
How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.
You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 
If only Keegan could see you now.
Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.
Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen
is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 
“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 
You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 
“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 
Everything would be done if another city fell.  
Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 
Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go
and you would never let him down. 
You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 
Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 
Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.
Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.
“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 
Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.
Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...
When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 
—
It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 
On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.
Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 
Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 
“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 
The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would
you knew it, everyone did. 
Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.
“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”
The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 
“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 
On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 
Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.
And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 
With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 
You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 
I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 
While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 
It rang a devastating bell.
Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 
Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.
The only love of your life. 
“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 
Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.
The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 
Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 
“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 
He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 
You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.
It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.
“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 
Your face gains heat. 
“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 
“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”
“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.
He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 
“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 
Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 
Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 
At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to
something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.
So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 
“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 
“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 
The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 
“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 
You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 
Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.
“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 
Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 
You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.
Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 
More than one-thousand miles.
But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 
Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 
Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 
Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.
—
The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 
Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 
But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 
But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.
You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 
In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 
Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 
The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 
“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 
You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 
Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 
“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 
Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.
“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 
“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 
You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 
“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”
“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 
Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 
“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 
“Alright then
don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”
“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 
“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 
Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 
“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 
“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 
“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 
Yelling is on the other side.
“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 
“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

Keegan?
“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.
“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”
“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 
Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 
Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 
Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still
his.
Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 
The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 
Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 
“...Sweetheart?”
His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.
You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.
The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 
“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 
He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was
incomprehensible. 
“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.
Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 
“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”
“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 
His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 
“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 
Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 
The man forces a weak huff. 
“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 
You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.
Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 
Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 
He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 
“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 
You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.
“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 
You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 
The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.
“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”
“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”
You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.
Not to leave again anytime soon. 
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deadghosy · 1 year ago
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Hello ! I wanted to ask if you can write a Hazbin Hotel x male!reader that is like a raccon please ?
Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!
(Unconnected, but I really love your writing. You have a real talent for this)
Sure lol! I also wanted to make them have the animal spirit of a raccoon so here you go! 🩆💗
HAZBIN HOTEL X RACCOON! READER
prompt: a ex-thief wants redemption to see his family
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You stole shit..like lots of it to the point even your ex-teammates calls you a raccoon for your ability to steal like crazy. So when one of your teammates killed you because of they were jealous you got so much jewelry
. You fell into hell grumbling piss at seeing your ex teammate shoot you before you died.
You dusted off your outfit to fuckin' see you are a raccoon. (You can imagine reader to be a cubby raccoon or your body type 😘) but you gotta admit it fitted you as you looked to see an ad for a hotel that talks about redemption. You didn’t wanna stay in hell any longer as you smell the flames in your snout. So you go over to the hotel.
You stay at the hotel for months, getting the trust of the hotel staff as you live there. Charlie introduces herself in her dreams to you, making you feel at least as you should help her grow in her dreams of the hotel that she’s making out of this.
So you nod, accepting your be part of the exercises she does.
You either was given a red outfit just like Charlie and vaggie or just a black fit to match your mischievous personality. ïżŒ
I can see reader literally just trying to wash their hand from the sink as Charlie pick them up and helps you wash your hands thinking you can’t change heights.
Lucifer picked you up because you’re the size of a raccoon so you kind of found it funny until you grow up in size as human size. Never in his life has Lucifer dropped a person so quick as you chuckled. ïżŒïżŒ
“EW A RODENT” “EW A SHORT PERSON”
There was so much silence that the silence was loud as Lucifer gave you a “that’s not nice D:” face as you shrugged.
Raccoon! Reader and penguin! Reader would be cousins 😭
Like literally these two animal readers would be those cousins trying to get a sleepover by their moms.
Angel would probably set you up to steal from Valentino
I mean shit Italians stick togetherâ˜đŸŸ
Niffty likes to groom you if you are in your raccoon size. Don’t run, you can’t out run Niffty and her cleaning tools ‌
I can imagine you and sir Pentious being slight mutuals as you go through peoples trash bins and just collect metal for Pentious making Pentious give you something in return.
A cute headcannon is that you sometimes stick your tongue out when drinking something other than gulping it down.
Husk had gave you some water because you were dehydrated. And this man raised an eyebrow seeing you drink it like a cautious animal. Okay so maybe husk did pet you on your head as you were too busy drinking the water.
You are a slick bastard, you would literally pick pocket people without them even knowing it. Hell, you died with a talent because of this. But it’s sometimes hard to break bad habits.
I headcannon you bit a resident that tried to pickpocket off of you. You definitely gave them rabies with your sharp teeth as they started to spazz and pass out. Leaving you just standing there like. “Did I do that
😹”
I can see raccoon! Reader just being thrown by Angel when he wanted to catch some sinner who tried to take his drugs (pilot reference) and you got on the sinners head and fuck up their face🩆
It was definitely giving “PIKACHU, I CHOOSE YOU!” 😭
Okay so I gotta admit
I headcannon raccoon! Reader to have dug in the trash bins only to get scolded by Charlie as you had a banana peel on your head
I can see raccoon reader also having the personality of rigby, but more of a mature side to it a little. If you know what character I’m talking about hit me up 😘😍
As much as you seem playful and dumb at time, you’re really smart when you wanna be smart. You literally outsmarted Alastor at chess once which made alastor’s eyes widen at you.
I deadass headcannon raccoon! Reader to have like some kinda of accent. Probably Italian, but make it heavy and attractive. đŸ˜­đŸŠ†ïżŒ
But like if raccoon reader is Italian imagine the secret talks you and Angel do away from the others 😭😭 just two Italian boys planning world domination
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Alastor doesn’t have any options on you other than you just stealing his cane makes him pissed off.
You stole his cane for a talent show down stairs that Charlie made. You were doing comedy until this mf grabbed the scuff of your neck and forced you to give it back.😭
STOP CAUSE YOU PROBABLY GOT LOCKED IN A TRASH BIN ONCE AND IT TOOK THE WHOLE CREW TO FIND YOU IN 2 DAYS😭😭
“Ewww
welp found them Charlie!” Alastor said picking you up over his shoulder with a wide grin as he slides down the dump stash.
You are in charge of the lost and found section of the hotel as you just go in room and find shit. I mean you would love to keep them to yourself but Charlie and vaggie knew you would try to steal. So that’s why they made you in charge of lost and found.
You and Angel once went on a hot girl shopping spree..well actually Angel brought you along since you two bond very well. You two legit bought shades together while Angel dust went shopping with you behind him holding his bags.
I headcannon raccoon! Reader to have a locket of his mom in his pocket at all times because before going to bed they kiss the locket and wish their mom a good night.
Charlie learnt you liked being pet from your head to your back as it helps you sleep better. She squeaks at your rare cuteness as she hears you let out a few cute snores.
You stole from husk making him grumble looking for his wallet only to see you come back whistling holding a bunch of groceries.
“Let me guess, you stole my fuckin' wallet?” “Whattt me stole whooo?” You said with a smirk putting down the groceries for husk as he grumbles snatching his wallet from you.
Husk and you have a weird friendship dynamic. It’s like you two hate but like each other. So it’s basically frenemies
When the angel fell down and came to fight, what did you do? Bitch you stole their heaven bucks and dead angel’s weapons. If you can’t beat em, wait for them to die😍
Adam literally seen you stealing money from tel he angels and was going to kill you when he felt his pockets
HIS WALLET WAS GONE?! HOW TF DID YOU TAKE HIS WALLET?!
“THAT LITTLE THIEVING SHIT TOOK MY WALLET?!” “ BUT SIR! THAT IMPOSSIBLE?” “NO SHIT!” Adam retorts at lute as Adam grumbles seeing your figure run away
After Adam had died, you ran his pockets
😭 devious ass shit-
The hotel crew just gave you a shocked looked after you stole half of his possessions.
You and Angel dust literally just be chilling and mess with husk a lot 😭 so now husk got two Italians annoying him lmao
Sir Pentious doesn’t like you because of how you sometimes sneak into his room or lab and steal some of his stuff just so you can have a little stash of something to remember the good old days when you were alive.
Sooner or later, you had given Pentious his stuff back remembering your mom might be in heaven. You miss her cooking.
I imagine raccoon! Reader to be a mama’s boyđŸ€šâ˜đŸŸ
You’re so use to playing dead as a raccoon, as you literally played dead in front of husk and angel making them scared you actually died
.yeah you told them it was a prank and they got mad to the point they locked you out of the hotel.
“GUYS! LET ME IN DAMNIT! IT WAS JUST A JOKE! FELLAS?!”
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pretty-little-mind33 · 6 months ago
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James Potter x fem!reader / Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader
Summary: Nothing is as it seems.
Prompt: "You look familiar. Where do I know you from?"
Warnings: crossover au, death, pietro, reader, and james are all sixteen, ending is very much up to interpretation (open-ended lol), confusing on purpose 😉
~ @simp-for-fictional-people this is SO niche and so different then anything I usually write! i hope this is what you wanted, lovie!! ~
ps: while i personally fan-cast James as Aaron Taylor-Johnson in my head and use him for headers, i try and write his physical descriptions more ambiguously in my other james works because i know there are plenty of other amazing James fan-casts (including poc!james, which i really love)! however, for this story's purposes, he's supposed to look like pietro 😁 ~
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST
BLURB MASTERLIST
Dead.
The word rings in your ears but you don't register it. You slide through the rubble, knees scraping the pavement to reach him. Alive? You hope as you see a glimmer of those blue eyes you love so much behind the strands of silver. You whisper his name, the letters feeling wrong on your tongue as you kneel beside him. 
You see the blood seeping through his costume and your heart sinks. Dead. Dead. Dead. It's a taunting chant as you push him up to lean his head on your knees, pushing his hair away from his eyes. His eyes, which are staring at you but there's no life behind them anymore. 
"No," your voice is shaky as you clutch him, your skin vibrating as your vision blurs. "No. No. No. No," you chant to counter the voice in your head. You bend over and kiss his forehead. No response. You try his cheek as tears stream down your cheeks. "Pietro," you plead, "wake up."
Anger courses your veins as his blood stains your hands. Your head is pounding so loudly you can barely think. 
Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
The team calls your name. You feel like the world around you is spinning as you feel your powers acting up as you hold him closer to you, crushing his face into your chest as you sob. You feel hot and misplaced as your head is throbbing. 
Your name is screamed again but this time, you can't even see them as a blinding green light surrounds you, catching the gimmer on your wrist—the small silver bracelet Pietro had given you for your sixteenth birthday—and you fall unconscious. Your head hits the pavement, making everything turn dark. 
His hand touches yours, the background blurry. He looks like a carefree kid again, those rosy cheeks so full of life and future. "Y/n/n, wake up," Pietro whispers, grinning as you stare into his blue eyes. "Wake up now."
You startle awake, sitting up as your chest heaves. You blink, dried tears still on your cheeks. You glance around the room, it looks ancient. You're dressed in clothes you don't immediately recognize as your head continues to throb.
From your bedside, a boy jumps up. He's wearing the same clothes, only his with red accents as opposed to your green ones. His dark hair is curled messily across his features and his glasses rest lopsided on his head. "Thank Merlin!" he exclaims, his British accent thick as he rushes up to you and leans over you, smiling. "Are you okay?"
You blink, looking at his features intensely. His smile, the way his nose curves, the swoop of his hair. His eyes. 
The same ones flash in your head. 
"You look familiar," you whisper, tilting your head with confusion, "Where do I know you from."
The boy laughs. "Y/n/n, it's me. It's James."
James? James? James? For some reason the name sticks on your tongue. You look at him as your memories rush back. James. Pietro? James. 
"Jamie, right," you shake your head, touching your scalp and frowning. "Shit, what happened?"
"You fell and hit your head pretty damn hard, love," James kisses your forehead tenderly. "Madam Pomfrey says you have a small concussion," he smiles and again you have a weird sense of déja-vu.
"I had the weirdest dream," you tell him and look down at your hands, almost expecting to see the green light from around them. Your frown deepens when you see the silver bracelet from your dream. You hold your wrist up. 
"James? Where did this come from?"
James looks at the bracelet and shrugs. "Why're you asking me? It's yours." 
You turn the bracelet around, frowning again as you see a hint of two small initials engraved onto the metal.
P.M
tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg, @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic , @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld
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bunny-jpeg · 4 months ago
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Hi Bunny,
I've been following your page for awhile and was wondering if I could order some John Price Lemon slices and beer brownies on the house??
I adore your stories and writing style, and you are in fact someone's girlfriends favorite author 😌
Hope your day is wonderful n thank you ♄
bakery menu!
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i know i've been horribly lacking at call of duty bakery fics! but with call of duty i'll get an idea in my head that is seperate than the bakery fics. i still deeply love my boys (and esp john price), so i'll try to be more on top of the call of duty fics because so many of you have been so sweet with your prompts <3 (also john price would totally love beer brownies just as a dessert, lol)
lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." + beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog." + on the house (matcha latte: collars/bondage)
cw: smut/pwp, dom!price, sub!reader, dirty talk/degrading language, age gap (20s/40s), wife!reader, wife/domestic kink, carpet sex, oral sex, pet names (puppy, baby girl)
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price liked being the man of the house. while most times your relationship was an equal affair. price admired you like flowers did the sun. he'd never hurt his baby girl, even with the age gap that would make some gawk at. a man in his near fifties with a woman who was just out of university. plus, he made her a stay-at-home wife within three months of dating?
there had to be something else going on. even your parents were a little shocked at the news. but neither of you cared, you were happy. and since your parents wouldn't let you move in with such an older man, the only thing to do was to get married. and now every night price got to be the man of the house and have his lovely girl serve him.
after dinner was served you were on your knees in front of him while he watched television. it was hard for him to focus on the game while your nose was nestled against his dark pubic hair. his grip on the can of beer was tight, any tighter and he'd crush the thing in his palm.
he was so much bigger than you, stronger than you. there was a weight to him that could leave you pinned under him. he was so strong and masculine that you couldn't help yourself but be enthralled by him. you continued to pleasure him orally, but occasionally you made small noises which was accompanied by your thighs rubbing together.
"i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." he said as he took you by the head of the head and made you look at him. you panted heavily and looked at him with a lustful expression across your features. poor little wifey got too excited.
price chuckled and patted your cheek a roughly, "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog." he laughed a little, "maybe i should get the collar out, since you like being my puppy so badly." you whined in response and price pulled away to tuck himself back in his jeans. when he got up, he looked down at you and said, "you stay put, i don't need you getting in trouble, baby girl." then left for the bedroom.
you waited patiently and felt heat curl in your gut. you liked price like this, domineering. when he used his age, height, size against you. when he made you feel small in the best ways. when he returned you could see the green collar in his hands.
it wasn't a neon green, but rather a rich forest green. you swallowed and shifted a little in your spot. when he sat down on the couch with a 'huff' he patted his thigh so you'd climb onto his lap. you did without question and he placed the pretty collar around your neck. then his hand was on your bare thigh, he got to see you naked up close. after dinner you stripped down to give your husband dessert.
"pretty little thing." he said, his voice hot. you squirmed a little at his hands on you. on between your legs and the other supporting your back. he made a vow to love and protect you. even when you panted heavily from his touches.
his calloused fingertips grazed across your wet cunt and he dipped his head against your neck where he laid kisses across the heated skin.
"john."
"i got ya, sweetheart. my little pet." he teased your clit a little and you shuddered. he pulled you closer to him and teased your clit a little more before he said, "get on your hands and knees, beautiful. your mouth isn't enough tonight."
you scurried off, you were naked save for the ankle socks with little bows on them and the pretty green collar. you got onto the carpet and rested your face against your arms with your hips raised. price took one last swig of his beer before he got up and rubbed himself through his jeans. you looked at your husband, coyly, "like this?"
"i've trained you so well." he said as got down on the carpet. while a this age, it was hard to do it on the floor. but, he knew it was either that or up against the couch. the latter would only cause more pain in price's bad knee.
"thank you." you blushed, heat rose in your cheeks as you felt his pointer and middle finger touch your achy cunt again. your back arched. then you heard the clatter of his belt being fully taken off.
"this is how a wife should greet her husband every night. give him a fully belly and you walk away with a full cunt. ya like when i make a mess of her, don't ya?" he watched your back arch from his words. he got his cock out of his jeans and rubbed the slick head up against your pussy, "been missin' her. had to finish myself off in the washroom at work because i was thinkin' about it."
price hated to admit it, but he loved the differences between you two. he kept his pretty wife happy at home, and maybe soon you'd have some company with a pet or a baby. price wasn't getting any younger, about time he used the last of his swimmers for something good.
he pushed his cock into you with ease and watched your tense up. it was really hot. in his honest opinion, you looked beyond beautiful. he was glad he got a ring on you as soon as he did because if anyone else tried to get their hands on you. that would be a problem. you whimpered and clawed into the cream carpet.
you knew your knees were going to be raw by the time your husband was done with you. but, you'd happily accept it regardless.
his pace was steady, on the faster side but every thrust had a force that made your toes curled. you loved your big, hairy husband. you adored how he made you feel, how he could easily move and twist you to his liking. he was dominant and strong, he never wanted his wife to worry.
"that's a good girl, my good little puppy. hearin' your little noises right now." he groaned, "you're a beautiful little thing. you know exactly how to get me goin'. lettin' my fuck you until you see stars." his pace picked up and you gasped into the floor.
"john." you arched your back. your body craved your husband. more than most else. you were never a party girl, but even if you were, your drug of choice would be having your husband, the cervix bully, make you cum time and time again.
it was slightly price's fault why you never went to parties. when he was home from deployment, he wanted to savour every moment with you. hard to go out with friends on a friday when price had you in a full nelson on his bed with his cock hitting just the right places. price didn't need boys sniffing around what was his. not that you'd give them the time of day. he held onto your hips tightly and pushed you further into the carpet as his cock dragged against your softest areas.
he said, "so pretty under me. you take me so well." you could feel your heartbeat in the back of your head as he continued to push up right against you. the feeling was erotic, as were the sounds of your sweet moans, "pretty in your collar. maybe i should've just gotten you a collar instead of a ring. a nice leash as well to make sure that you didn't go runnin' off. be a proper pup for me." he groaned as he continued to fuck you.
his motor mouth made heat wash over you. it was hot in a way that made you want to cry out for more. poor mrs. price, must be such a shame to get fucked into a state of bliss by your domineering, stronger husband.
it wasn't long before you could feel the sparks in your brain as you panted heavily against the carpet. your knees were rubbed raw as were your forearms. thankfully not carpet burn on your face (this time). you panted heavily before you let out a sweet noise, your attempt to tell your lover you were cumming. your cunt tightened around his cock, which only spurred your husband to move faster.
"that's it, that's my baby girl." he groaned as he rammed his cock as fast as he could. he could hear your soft, post-orgasm moans. your back arched a little more before they dropped. which meant price had to hold onto them to get at the right angle of your pussy, "my good little wife."
a few more heavy thrusts and price finished inside of you. trusting you to keep the boys safe.he gripped onto your hips and really pushed into you as he tensed up. he then relaxed and felt his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly pulled out.
a string of cum connected his cock to your pussy. really a match made in heavy. he licked his lips before he slowly got up with a bit of help from the coffee table. he wasn't the spry young man that he used to be. but you loved that about him, your burly old man.
not that you'd say that to him.
your hips dropped as you laid on the floor for a moment. achy and feeling euphoric at the same time. it was cute in price's eyes, after he got his cock back into his jeans once more. he picked up his wife and held you in his arms. he kissed your heated cheeks while you wrapped a leg around his waist for support.
"i got ya, baby girl. now let's get the wife to bed before i get hungry again." he knew you were on another planet right now. you held onto your husband tightly until he tucked you naked into bed, with the covers pulled up to your chin.
"what about the dinner dishes?" you asked.
price patted your cheek, "don't worry about them, beautiful. i can handle them." then let you rest with the familiar collar around your throat. <3
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ancientgoddessofegypt · 7 months ago
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Astro Notes : Short N' Sweet - Saturn's Theme
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Saturn in the 1st - Emotional creatures, you just don't know it. Definitely isn't visible to the eye, they wear it well. They can handle themselves better than most. This is not only a compliment, but it also shows how they can be emotional stable even if they don't feel that way. Saturn here makes you grounded in the physical reality more. So you tend to get back on your feet quicker than most.
Saturn in the 2nd - Financial struggles at an earlier age has prompted them to force themselves into roles where getting to the bag is the higher goal. I mean, its a must. You gotta have it all, and they know how to get it. They're pretty practical here, and most can handle their advice when it comes to material needs and finances. They won't go crazy on the spending, but they'll at least make sure their needs are met.
Saturn in the 3rd - Prompt speakers. Intelligent leaders. Shapeshifters with their words. Charismatic thinkers that can charm you with their smile. Their needs are met when they have someone important to them that listens. When they're screaming inside, someone who just knows them well and can feel it without them saying anything is what they want. They are emotional readers, can sense danger ahead or when a problem is going to start.. Very majestic flow and auras. Problem solvers!
Saturn in the 4th - Soft spoken individuals who crave attention that isn't just when they're committing to labor. Not your mommy and daddy, so don't bring all your issues to them. Can be sweet and loving to people who are kind to them. They could turn this off quickly depending on who you are. Super swift, and can create a foundation like no other. After seeing what they were living with they know what is right for them and are committed to receiving it.
Saturn in the 5th - Teachers of the art. Self mastery at they're passions and hobbies comes at a price, but a great one at that. Can be an intellectual or an artistic. No matter what, its always a great time with them. Magical authors. Creative thinkers. Special characters they are. Life is art, & so they make it sweet.
Saturn in the 6th - Figures of authority. People who can manage a room. Natural leaders. People tend to make you the lead even if you don't like it. Can have a tendency to do more than what they need but this comes from a place of always over extending themselves to people. There is a time and place for all of it, this group has to allow themselves to be on the receiving end. Balance is key!
Saturn in the 7th - Captain save a ho's. Lol. Jokes. ;) But seriously, you see a damsel in the distress and you might try and change em. You can also be a great lover, that isn't up to debate. Very old school & traditional. Can be the life of the party. Needs somebody who keeps the momentum going. Can be alienated by authorative figures a lot, its because you're one of them, you just don't see it yet.
Saturn in the 8th - At a young age they knew they we're meant for something. Something that would shake the world. Secrets of the unknown tend to carry them to a long journey. A journey that leads them to their final destination. The path less spoken for, but the bravest tend to move mountains here. <3
Saturn in the 9th - Excellent learners. Yearn for something deeper. Could move into religion or stick to something that speaks to them and helps them grow in this lifetime. They are committed to whatever fits their beliefs, and they sit with them and mature into them gracefully.
Saturn in the 10th - The masters of what they came to achieve. They believed they could be more and so it was. A dream to be a prominent somebody, its a gift & a curse is it not? Spellbounding auras, and a respectable presence nonetheless.
Saturn in the 11th - Could only have 1 or 2 friends that mean the world to them. They're big on achieving goals not having a bunch of friends. Can be very standoffish but theres some history behind it. When they want to be, they can be very sweet and nurturing. Can bring acts of service to a group of people if its time to.
Saturn in the 12th - Creative thinkers. Beyond this realm. Have difficulties with aligning with sources that don't match their integrity. Can bring people to their knees with just their mind power. The truth is, they must choose wisely with what they ask for because saturn here blesses them with it. Be careful what you wish for ;) Its a commitment that changes things.
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finnbbl · 4 months ago
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Hey, I saw your requests are open. Would you write something for 3Racha where something sad happens and the reader turns non-verbal to try and cope with it?
It's just a problem that I always have and I would like to know how you think the boys would react :)
3Racha when you’re nonverbal
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3Racha Written
Prompt: Being friends with the main producers of a music group had its perks. But when you’re asked to accompany them a certain gathering, you hesitate when you figure out who will be there.
Genre: Angst/Comfort
Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Implications of trauma, alcohol and dr*g mention, I don’t think there’s any swearing, reader goes nonverbal.
A/N: I wanted to first start off by saying I apologize it took me a bit to get out. I’ve been in my own slump and I’ve found it super hard to find motivation for anything, especially writing and posting.
I wasn’t sure if you wanted a specific incident to happen where the reader goes non verbal, so I hope this is okay. I also wasn’t sure if you wanted it romantic or not, so I just kind of wrote what felt right in the moment. I tried to leave the situation vague so it could match with anyone’s experiences. I personally don’t like it too much (I honestly hate my writing so it could just be that LOL) so I can make a separate post with a text version, of course it would be a little bit different than this. Please let me know your thoughts 🙏
Requests - OPEN
Masterlist
Please read disclaimer in masterlist
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Parties were the absolute worst. If you were forced to choose a least favorite thing on the planet, parties would be it. They’re loud and crowded; Worst of all, he’s always there.
3Racha had been nominated for an award. They had been invited to a big award show, a one where afterparties usually follow. You were incredibly proud of them, knowing just how hard they worked. They meant the absolute world to you, and to see them put their best foot forward and exceed tipped you over the moon. Previously, you’d turn them down when they’d ask you to attend with them, and you had a very good reason. Firstly, parties just weren’t your thing. You never fit in with everyone else growing up. Secondly, you knew that he was going to be there. You didn’t know what to call him. Putting a label on things had never felt right to you before. If someone were to ask him, he’d tell them you were together. But if someone were to ask you, you’d say it was complicated and you were content with how things were. You did that with everyone that seemed to be more than friends with you, commitment was a scary thing. But you did know that he was someone you never wanted to be around ever again.
You remember the way he’d always ask you to accompany him to one. He was the partier in the “relationship.” However, you’d always preferred to stay in. Nice and cozy in your blankets. One night, you decided to try and get out of your comfort zone. You wore something different, and put effort into your appearance. The moment he let his hand “accidentally” linger over your ass was the first sign of a mistake. The night only went downhill from there. Next thing you knew you were drugged and taken advantage of. It took you months to recover, months to find the will to get out of bed. Only Chan out of the three knew of this incident, but only very very vaguely. He only found out because he was the one nursing you back to your normal self again. You avoided giving him details, he doesn’t know the person, time, nor the place. You wanted to stick to using being tired as an excuse to politely turn them down. There was no way you could let them find out that you were just too weak to attend said gathering, especially because they don’t know what happened.
You listened to the boys explain how excited they were for this one. How this was such a big award, and how it was going to be so much different. The excitement that laced their voices made it hard for you to deny the question you knew was coming. “Do you think you could go with us this time?” They knew the answer every time they asked this question. A hesitant no, almost as if you were thinking about it. In reality, your mind was fighting off bad memories. It was hard not to think of it when even the topic was brought up, there’s no way you could bring yourself to revisit the place it happened. He was always going to be there, just like he was at every one while you knew him. Again, parties were his thing. So you were confident no matter which one you attended, he would be there. You were scared, to say the least. Scared of seeing him, scared of being pushed back into that dark room, scared of reliving what had made you feel so lifeless.
However, Han’s unintentional puppy eyes drew you closer and closer to the edge. How you wanted to see them happy. You weren’t sure if it was only platonic or if there was some hint of romantic feelings for them there, but you knew you loved them so much. Although the three knew the usual answer, they still proceeded to ask. They felt as they should always invite you, even if they know what your answer would be. However, this time you surprised them. With a quick purse of your lips, the words fell from your mouth. “Fine, but only this once.” The way their faces lit up when you agreed to go to with them brought a smile to your face. Though it quickly dissipated as your brain grabbed back at those awful memories. The guys were too lost in excitement to notice, but you’d prefer it that way. Everyone else had their own problems, so you hated adding your own on top of them.
The last few nights leading up to the award ceremony were filled with anxiety. Sleepovers with Chan were a mutually agreed way to get both of your minds off of stress. However your anxiety still managed to claw its way through what was supposed to be a comforting barrier with him. Chan was next to you, fast asleep which was something that was rare for him. Meanwhile, you silently cried next to him. Hours passed and you were still unable to fall asleep, too busy fighting off the horrible memories. Horrible memories of a time in your life that left you numb. You couldn’t shake it, knowing that he was going to be there. He was a popular artist, and you’d already checked the lineup for the event. His name was there, and now you were petrified. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you changed your mind. They were so excited, so you dealt with it.
The night of the party arrived. You’d isolated yourself for the day, hoping to prepare yourself enough for what was about to come. Hours passed and next thing you knew you were sat between Chan and Changbin on a fancy couch. Despite it being a fancy event, Han sat on the back of the couch with his feet on either side of you, his hands slowly running through your hair. It was a common thing for you to do with the three, often being very touchy with each other. It was to the point where you questioned if you were more than friends. While you didn’t kiss, or do anything beyond that, you were very hands on. Cuddling, hugging, playing with each others hair or outfits, you name it. However, you couldn’t decipher whether it was platonic or if there was a hint of romance in there.
Suddenly, an all too familiar voice snapped you out of the peaceful thoughts that managed to distract you for.. at least a little while. Soon enough, your worst fear of the night happened. He placed himself on the couch right across from you guys. The first 20 minutes or so, he had the subtlety evil smirk on his face.
However, you knew it would dissipate sooner or later. Based on your experience with him, he was an extremely jealous person. And given, how important skin-ship was to you and the three boys, it was only a matter of time. It happened when Han noticed you were quieter all of the sudden. His fingers came to a slow stop in your hair to travel down to your shoulder. His head leaning down to your ear to whisper something.
“Are you alright, jagiya?”
It was quiet, quiet enough where only those within a 3 inch radius could hear. So you wonder why you saw that man who you feared, drop his smirk to a frown. Maybe he read Han’s lips and noticed the word ‘jagiya’ ? Either way, you ignored it, and with a nod and a small smile which was noticeably forced, you brushed off Han’s worries insisting you were just tired. Changbin took notice of his member’s concern, and leaned in close to reassure you that the event would be over soon. You gave him the same smile and quietly thanked him.
Thats when he suddenly started staring daggers at you from across the room, his hand clenching onto the almost empty soju bottle. He was drunk, for sure. That had to have been the scariest part. It only added more fuel to the fire, you were silenced. Except nothing was physically stopping you from speaking. Your head dropped down, staring at your nails that now started to dig into the palms of your and in an attempt to quiet the voices in your mind. It was a bad habit you picked up when you got anxious. Recently, it’d been worse so you currently had crescent shaped markings left behind on the center of your hand. Han noticed the tension in your body, and leaned down to express his concern once again.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re very tense.”
No response. As much as you wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, you couldn’t. It felt as if your throat was closing up, you couldn’t speak or move. You were anxious, overstimulated and all you wanted to do was jump out of the window. Anything to escape.
Your eyes were now staring daggers into the floor, and your body was completely still. Did you even hear him? He wondered at your lack of response, however it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it. But before he could say anything else, Chan’s hand gently but swiftly grabbed yours. Holding your hands in such a way that your nails couldn’t fight their way through your skin again. Chan was a very observant person, so it didn’t take him very long to notice the marks on your hands. That’s when Han recognized what was going on, Changbin following in their suit not but a few moments later. Once again, Han leaned down to say something. He was well aware that you were nonverbal right now, but he said it anyways hoping you could at least muster the energy to tell him you wanted to leave. You suddenly felt a hand on either shoulder, which were now rubbing soothingly into your tense muscles. “Do you want to leave? Chan still has to say his goodbyes to everyone, but I can take you outside.” This sentence was whispered into your ear, and the word ‘leave’ sparked your attention. You nodded almost too eagerly.
With that, Han motioned for you to stand up, saying something to you excuse yourselves. Chan let your hands slip out of his, looking over at his band mate and Changbin to silently communicate everyone would be leaving soon. You were unsure of what he said, now focused on not making eye contact with a certain someone right across from you. The closer to you that Han got, the more anger you could feel emitting off of the man in front. That only left you more anxious. Suddenly, Han put his arm around your waist gently to guide you out. The anxiety started to die down as you stepped out of the building, but the tears you were fighting didn’t. “You okay?” Han softly questioned as your eyes looked up to meet his. It took him not but a brief moment to notice your glossy eyes. He immediately pulled you in for a hug, which caused you to break down. Still unable to speak, you only mumbled out incoherent words that the male tried so hard to pick up on. Fortunately for him, he was able to make out a few words which told him everything he needed to know.
You felt unsafe is what it was. Although he wasn’t sure why, it was a step. Han would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t sense anger and tension in the room. The reason was what he couldn’t figure out. His head rested on yours, gently rocking you back and forth hoping to calm you down. Suddenly the door opened, but you remained still. As Chan and Changbin walked over, your breathing began to slow down. “Sorry n/n, I did my best to get us out as soon as possible. They don’t know when to shut up.” Chan apologized and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Come on, we’ll talk later. Let’s get her out of here.”
Once you all arrived home, everyone went to their dorms. Except you stayed back at Chan and Jeongin’s. Although the younger was in the middle of a brand deal, which left you and the latter alone in the dorm. The trio agreed it would be better if you stayed with one of them for the night, so they decided on the leader’s as it would be the calmest. Your body lay next to him on his comfortable mattress, the lights set to a soft and comforting purple color with the tv playing a movie on the lowest volume. The male laying next to you, with his hand running up and down your back. Your eyes followed the movements of the character on the screen, but your brain wasn’t absorbing any of the plot. It was obvious this was a difficult night for you, but Chan just had to know.
“Feel free to not answer, I know you’re still not in a talking mood..” He led on, and your head raised to make eye contact with him. “Was that the guy
 from you know.”
You did know, you knew exactly what he was talking about. Your facial features remained still, looking back and forth between both of his eyes as you mustered up the energy to get some form of response out. With that, you only nodded before turning back to the movie. Chan could swear he felt his heart break and everything suddenly clicked in his mind. If he had known it would only cause you anxiety, then he wouldn’t have pestered you to go for so long. “I am sooo sorry y/n.” His other arm found its way around you as he rested his head on yours. “We wouldn’t have pressed so hard if we knew what was going on.”
Although you didn’t respond, your hand found its way to his and gave him a light squeeze to reassure him that it was okay. “I know I don’t know the whole story but you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling, alright?” A small smile formed on your lips and your head nodded against his, nuzzling further. He let out a light and squeaky giggle as he ran his fingers over your knuckle gently. It was in this moment that you realized it was all going to be okay.
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cyberskulzzz · 2 months ago
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In honor of me moving and not having wifi the last three days I made this while I was gone:
Moving in with Rodrick Heffley Headcanons!🎀
(not proof read)
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Prompt: After years of touring together, you and Rodrick finally move into your first stable home.And you two try to find compromises on your decor styles. 
(You’re both in your twenties now. Think grunge/punk x coquette/girly vibes,iykyk.)
‱Obviously Rodrick lives for his subculture its not just his style, it’s self expression. While you’ve lived together on tour, moving into a real apartment together feels completely different,you quickly notice the clashing of your guys’s visions for your home. 
‱This is the first time since high school that either of you has had a stable place to call home,not couch surfing or living out of suitcases. 
‱So to prepare you sat down together and made a list of what your new place needed,separating responsibilities for furniture and decor to each of you. 
‱Now the actual clash,Rodrick assumed your decorating style would stay simple, like it was used to be on the road,mostly black and leather,with a few pink accents here and there to bring in your personality. However now that you guys had that rockstar budget and you could buy your whole ass pinterrest board,you were way to excited to not do so. 
‱But when you came home and he saw the boxes filled with bows, pastel furniture,and candles, he was visibly overwhelmed.
‱“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”
“I don’t fuck with pink that much, babe.”
“We don’t need, like, twenty bows in one place. Not even Santa’s elves have that many yk.“
‱But before you could respond annoyed,you noticed his decor piled by the door: thrifted, torn items he’d collected over the years. Leopard print blankets, a beat-up leather couch, a black table covered in graffiti and stickers, and a few lava lamps.
‱The two of you argued for about 30 minutes before Rodrick,got fed up
‱: “Let’s just put everything up and see how it looks. If it’s terrible, we’ll fix it.”
‱You agreed,mostly hoping your style would take over the atmosphere if you decorated faster.
‱Luckily the feared clashing of your styles wasnt bad at all,to your surprise. 
The apartment ended up looking like a chaotic mix of grunge and coquette.Your Yankee candles sat next to his record player, your novels next to his cds.
‱Rodrick hated the pile of decorative pillows on your bed. When he found out they were “just for decor” and needed to be put off the bed every night, he lost it. Your bedtime routine didn’t help either: silk sheets, incense sticks, humidifiers, and meditative audiobooks. It drove him crazy,at first. But after the first time you gave him a sheet mask and a skincare session, he was asleep in minutes. Now, he doesn’t mind the routine,as long as he’s included. 
‱Rodrick is surprisingly chill about letting you take over the kitchen and bathroom essentials. He couldn’t care less if he’s drinking out of a hello kitty mug or drying off with a pink towel after showering.We know damn well that man is comfortable in his masculinity. 
‱Rodrick is an excellent host,being used to having many people around on tour.Your friends, family, and band members always feel welcome,sometimes even overstay their welcome. There’s ALWAYS someone around on the weekends.  You two have a whiteboard by the door where guests can scribble little messages or doodles. Next to it is a Polaroid wall, filled with pictures of you and Rodrick from all the way back in high school. 
‱The guest room doubles as a writing/home studio.Rodrick often disappears to “work,” but you know he’s just messing around on his drums half the time,needing to clear his head. 
‱You constantly have to remind him of things like throwing away trash or closing the toothpaste. (Susan is so thankful for you when she sees the improvement lol.)
‱It’s a little messy, a little chaotic, but filled with love and you couldn’t care less. 
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kwanisms · 4 months ago
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Kinktober 「10:09」 — k.seungmin
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» stray kids menu | seungmin menu | kinktober masterlist «
➼ fallen angel!Seungmin × fem!Reader wc: 4.5k summary: His fall from grace had been due to his hard headedness and Seungmin’s status as a fallen one never really crossed his mind. At least until he met Y/N. He’d been dejected and grown disillusioned with life but upon meeting her, he started to see some meaning to life again. To put it simply -- Y/N made him feel alive. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: past bodily harm (seungmin had his wings literally cut off), not-so-high-speed collision of person on a bike with an angel (Y/N runs Seungmin over with a bicycle lol), one baseball reference (cause I couldn't help myself), past crime life/criminal activity (glosses over it but its there); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: i thought about revisiting vampire!Seungmin for kinktober but I changed my mind for fallen angel Seungmin. I like the direction I went with this and I tried to keep the wordy bits down so it wouldn't be too long. So far I've written a total of 45k for kinktober not including this piece so, words are wordin'. anyway, next piece is Yunho which I am very excited for so stick around! thank you for reading. if you liked this, pls consider reblogging so more people will see it and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), impact play (f receiving; spanking, pussy slapping), begging, unprotected sex (use condoms! ):< ), oral (f receiving, m receiving), fingering (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: kitten, baby, angel; his: Minnie, sir), dom!Seungmin, sub!Reader, and that should be everything but if I missed some, let me know! kinks: Impact play + begging dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Oh no. Not until you beg. ❜❜
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Falling from heaven is not as graceful or as ethereal as one might think.
For Seungmin, it was painful, bloody, and nightmarish. The process is one no one could ever fathom. Being cast down from all you’ve known, thrown into a cruel, dark world with nothing and no one. The only thing more painful was having his wings removed. Even now, years since then, he could still feel the burn of the hot steel as it sliced through tendon and flesh.
When he first arrived on Earth, Seungmin had nothing. He had his name and his memories but a drive to survive and so he did, albeit not by the most legitimate of ways and he did fall into the wrong crowd but it was so much easier to climb the social ladder of the underworld than to try things the proper and legal way. After all, he didn’t even have a social security number, a line of credit, or even a last name.
Seungmin realized he was caught in the wrong crowd when the hideout he was in was raided. He barely managed to get away and broke into a convenience store to hide from the cops. He was confronted by the owner and instead of alerting the authorities to his location, the man took him in, giving him a place to live and a job.
It wasn’t much but it was something and it allowed Seungmin to start over. His old crew were all rounded up and seeing as no one knew who Seungmin actually was, they were never able to turn him in. He was safe. For now.
Seungmin ended up taking the last name of the man who took him in, a man who simply went by Mr. Kim, and came to regard him almost as a father figure. Mr. Kim owned a small convenience shop off the beaten path. Seungmin was given a room in the small apartment above the shop where Mr. Kim lived alone. 
His life had gone quiet but a sort of disquiet had settled over him, not knowing where he was going or what he was going to do with his life. He simply was going through the motions of life.
Until he met you.
You had come crashing into his life. Quite literally.
He’d been walking down the sidewalk on a particularly gray and gloomy day, running errands for Mr. Kim, when he heard a high pitched scream. It wasn’t a scream of terror or fear. It was more like a shriek of excitement. It was playful in nature.
Seungmin didn’t have time to even respond when he heard a voice screaming at him to move out of the way. He turned, finding someone on a pink bicycle hurtling towards him. “BRAKES! HIT THE BRAKES!” someone had cried but despite the brakes being squeezed, you still managed to crash into him.
It wasn’t like you were going all that fast, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him as you toppled off the bike onto him, pinning him to the sidewalk as the bike flipped over without your weight on it. You let out a groan, pushing yourself up and glancing towards the mangled heap that was your bike.
Seungmin stared up at you, blinking as he tried to process exactly what just happened.
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I’m so sorry!” You quickly scrambled up, pulling him into a sitting position. You panicked, inspecting him all over, asking a plethora of questions. 
“What hurts?!” Nothing.
“Are you bleeding?” No.
“Did you hit your head?” Yes.
Your introduction to him was as violent as they come but his life completely turned around after meeting you. He finally had someone else to talk to. Someone he could spend time with outside of the convenience store and upon meeting you, Mr. Kim urged him to spend more time with you.
Your friendship grew, blossoming naturally over a short period of time and after knowing you for nearly a year, Seungmin couldn’t imagine his life without you.
You were vibrant, full of life, eccentric, and ecstatic about everything. You never seemed to have a bad day in the entire time Seungmin knew you and he found your optimism a refreshing new outlook that he started to adopt into his own life.
Of course, while you were very bright, bubbly, and vivacious, you were also extremely bratty. Seungmin often had to argue with you about things he thought he’d never have to argue with anyone about. Making sure you took medicine when you were sick was a chore and Seungmin came to realize you were only a brat because it pushed his buttons.
Especially today.
Mr. Kim had given him the day off and so he was at your place, a cute little studio apartment on the 14th floor of your building. It had an exposed brick exterior wall and floor to ceiling windows that spanned almost the entire wall. Outside the window was a fire escape where you had lots of plants as well as smaller potted plants sitting in the window. Your bed was sectioned off with a large cube storage unit and sheer curtains.
The living area was small and cozy with a flat screen television, a cream colored loveseat with lots of blankets and pillows. A coffee table that doubled as a dining table stood between the couch and the media center where you kept your gaming consoles and collection of games and movies.
The kitchen was also small. White cabinets hung on the walls where you kept your dishes. An island with a sink separated the kitchen from the living area and at the bar of the island stood three bar height chairs. Seungmin had arrived early, bringing food and drinks but they had long run out and you were whining at him to get more.
He sat on your couch, feet resting on the coffee table despite your insistence to remove them. You sat on the other cushion, next to him, wrapped up in your favorite blanket. Seungmin had arrived as you were opening your windows, saying it was a nice day out — it wasn’t, it was freezing — and that you and your plants needed the fresh air.
Despite insisting it was a nice day, you had immediately wrapped yourself in your blanket and curled up next to him on the couch, sapping the warmth from his body, not that he exactly minded. You had exhausted your movie library, picking the things you either hadn’t seen in a long time or at all which wasn’t much. 
Streaming services didn’t provide much of a difference in options so for the last hour, you’d been playing games on your phones, showing each other silly videos while enjoying the other’s presence. You’d finally grown bored of your game and were now pestering Seungmin into leaving to go get more snacks and drinks. 
“Why don’t we get food instead?” he asked as his little avatar died on screen and he shut the game off. “I think we need actual food, Y/N,” he added, locking the screen of his phone and turning his head to look at you. The urge to smile came over him because you looked sort of ridiculous wrapped up in your blanket so only your face was showing.
“But I don’t wanna!” you protested. “That means I have to get up.”
Seungmin rolled his eyes, throwing his head back against the back of the couch. “You’re so impossible,” he sighed before getting up with a groan. “Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. You shook your head, pulling your blanket tighter around you.
“Yah,” Seungmin said, giving you a playful but stern glare. “Get up,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, towering over your seated form. You shook your head wordlessly, staring up at him. He grabbed your blanket, tugging at it in an attempt to get you to listen. “No!” you squealed as he tried to pull the blanket harder. “You’re gonna rip it!”
Seungmin tugged harder. “Then let go so it doesn’t rip,” he countered. You glared at him. “It’s my blanket!” you reminded him. Seungmin tugged harder and you could have sworn you heard the material start to rip and so you let out a panicked whine and let go, allowing Seungmin to pull the blanket away.
“Alright,” he said, wading up the blanket and throwing it onto your bed. “Let’s go!”
You shivered, your once warm skin now exposed to the cool air filtering in from outside. “It’s cold!” you whined, curling in on yourself. Seungmin rolled his eyes and walked over. “Then get up and get changed,” he said, holding out his hand. You hesitated before taking his hand and then quickly tugging him towards you.
Unprepared, he lost his balance and fell onto the couch on top of you as you giggled, immediately hugging onto him like a koala. “So warm,” you murmured. Seungmin groaned trying to pull away from you but unsuccessfully. It wasn’t like you were all that strong, he just liked to indulge in some skinship with you from time to time.
“Okay,” Seungmin said. “You warm?” he asked. You nodded, smiling contentedly at him. “Good,” he said softly. “Now get up.” He tried again to pull away but you whined, holding onto him tighter so when he tried to get up, you moved with him.
“Y/N,” he scolded. “I’m not going to ask again. Get up.”
You looked up at him and he could see it before you even replied. A defiance in your eyes. 
“Make me.”
He didn’t know if it was because of your continuance to press his buttons mixed with the obvious tension between the two of you, but your resistance and disobedience made something in him snap. He quickly pulled your arms from around his neck, pinning you under him on the couch.
Your giggles died immediately as he leaned over you. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. This was a side of him you hadn’t seen before nor had he planned on sharing but you really, really liked to push his buttons. 
Seungmin hesitated as he looked down at you, assessing whether or not he’d taken things too far but the look in your eyes, while being one of surprise, was also a look of eagerness and he could tell then that you wanted this as much as he did. 
He leaned in closer, testing your reaction, wondering if he should stop and when your eyes dipped down to look at his lips, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours for the first time. 
Your stomach fluttered as his lips moved against yours. It was entirely new but it felt completely right. Your lips parted at the same time, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You let out a soft moan, muffled by his mouth, as his thigh pressed against your cloth covered crotch.
Seungmin pulled away, lips ghosting over your ear. “Do that again,” he whispered, pressing his thigh against you again. You muffled your moan, biting into your bottom lip. Seungmin scoffed as he reached up, using his thumb to gently pull your lip from between your teeth. “You’re such a brat.”
You opened your mouth to respond and at that exact moment, he grinded his thigh against you, making you whimper. “It’s so much nicer when you listen to me,” he sighed, nuzzling into your neck. He let go of your wrists, moving his hands down to your sides.
“Are you still going to be a brat and fight me or are you gonna let me make you feel good?”
You whined in response as his hands cupped your chest over your shirt. “I take it that’s a yes?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. You nodded eagerly. Seungmin let out a low chuckle, hands sliding down your stomach until he could curl his fingers under the waistband of your shorts.
“Then these need to come off,” he murmured, pulling them down slowly past your thighs as you lifted your hips. He discarded them on the floor behind the couch, eyes drinking in your naked lower half. “Lace?” he asked, looking up from the crimson material to meet your gaze.
His eyes were dark, pupils blown as he moved his hands up your thighs towards your hips. “Be honest,” he said as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Did you wear these for me?” You giggled as his tongue traced a line up your skin. “No,” you giggled. Seungmin pulled away with a slight frown.
“You mean you just wear these for no reason other than to wear them?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded silently, letting out a gasp when Seungmin delivered a sharp smack to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t lie to me,” he snapped.
“You don’t wear anything uncomfortable for long periods of time without a purpose,” he continued. “You told me so yourself.” A small smile spread across your face as you looked up at him, hands still resting by your head where he left them. “You always listen to everything I say?” you asked as his eyes wandered back down to the red material that barely covered anything.
“Yes,” he said simply, moving his hands up your sides, pushing the hem of your shirt up to just under your breast. He met your gaze once more. “Are you wearing a matching set?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy. You giggled, shaking your head. His eyes narrowed. “If you’re lying to me, there will be consequences, you know that, right?” he asked. You nodded. “I know.”
Seungmin held your gaze as he pushed the shirt up over the swell of your breast, exposing the incriminating evidence of your red lace bralette. He made a tsk sound as his eyes fell to your chest, taking in the sight of the red contrasting with your skin, your nipples visible through the sheer material. He looked back up to meet your gaze. “You lied to me, again,” he muttered.
You watched with excited eyes as he sat back on his heels, looking down at you. “I told you there would be consequences,” he added. “I know,” you said softly. Seungmin sighed as he shifted on the couch so he was sitting before holding out a hand for you to take. “Are you going to be good and take your punishment or am I going to have to force you?”
You took his hand, allowing him to pull you up and over his lap so you were lying on your stomach. You felt one of his hands move to your ass, fingers skimming over the lace as he inspected the sight. His other arm held you down. One of his fingers slid under the material of your panties, sliding it over to expose your cheek.
“I want you to count,” he said softly as his hand returned to your bare cheek. “How many?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder. Seungmin looked up from your ass, meeting your eyes with his. He had a dark look in them, something that both excited and sent a chill down your spine.
“Until I say so.”
By the time Seungmin finally did tell you to stop counting, your ass was sore. The skin burned and your body was aching, as was your cunt. You needed release and you were practically dripping. “Seungmin,” you whined. “I need release.”
Seungmin scoffed, moving his hand to pull your panties aside while he traced your folds with two fingers, spreading them slowly. The cool air against your hot cunt felt both foreign but oddly wonderful. “So needy,” Seungmin murmured, sliding the tips of his fingers between your lips, gathering your wetness before slowly pushing them into your hole.
You let out a pornographic moan, the sound resonating around the apartment. Seungmin felt his cock twitch in his pants, straining against the material of his underwear and aching to be freed. ‘Not yet,’ he told himself. ‘Not until Y/N proves she can behave.’ 
You moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, lightly scissoring them and curling them against your walls. “Seungmin. More,” you gasped, making him chuckle. “More?” he asked. “I have two fingers stuffed in you and that’s not enough?”
You shook your head as he sped up. He delivered a sharp smack to your sore ass. “Words, kitten,” he cooed. “N-no!” you stammered. “No you don’t want to use words?” he asked. “No!” you said quickly. “It’s not enough! I need more!” you clarified. Seungmin shook his head. “Such a greedy little baby.”
He obliged, giving you a third finger, opening you up to take his cock easily but he wasn’t about to give it to you that quickly. Your moans grew in pitch and volume as he fucked you with his fingers. He could feel you start to shake, your walls clenching rhythmically around him. “Don’t you fucking cum yet,” he growled, pulling his fingers from your hole, making you whine in protest.
“But Minnie!” you complained. He nudged you, signaling you to sit up. “Do you want me to fuck you here, on your couch, or over there,” he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards your bed. “Where I’m sure it’s much more comfortable.”
You grumbled softly as he got up, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you over to the bed, stepping up onto the small platform upon which your bed stood.
He turned your back towards the bed, moving his hands to quickly strip you of your shirt and bralette. “Sit,” he instructed but you didn’t listen, instead trying to pull at his clothes. He grabbed your hands, bringing your wrists together to hold with one hand and grabbing your chin with the other.
“If you don’t listen to me, I won’t let you cum at all, understand?” You nodded quickly and as soon as he let go, you sat on the bed, looking up at him. “Good, kitten,” he said, cupping your chin, moving his thumb to brush over your bottom lip. “I need you to do something for me,” he said, moving his hands to undo his buckle. “And then I promise I’ll make you feel really good”
You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on his as he unzipped his pants. “Do me a favor and put that mouth to good use, yeah?” he asked, pushing his jeans down past his hips. Your eyes roamed down his body, taking in the outline of his hard cock behind the dark blue color of his underwear. 
You could see it was straining against the fabric, begging to be freed. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached to pull the front of his boxer briefs down. Seungmin quickly grabbed your hands, stopping you. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, the dominant persona he’d taken on dissipating for a moment as he gave you a look of concern. You nodded, giving him a smile.
“Just nervous,” you whispered. He caressed your cheek gently. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he said softly. “It’s just me.” You nodded, swallowing thickly as you returned your attention to the task before you.
Your fingers snuck under the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in one swift motion and freeing his cock. You stared at it in awe, saliva starting to pool in your mouth at the sight of it bobbing before you. Wrapping your fingers around the base of the shaft, you looked up at Seungmin for confirmation to keep going. He merely nodded, watching as your lips parted and you gave the tip of his cock a kitten lick. He let out a hiss but was unable to catch his breath as you immediately went back in, tongue swirling around his cockhead.
“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut as your mouth enveloped his cock, taking it as far as you could in one go. “You’ve done this before,” he groaned as you pulled back, cheeks hollowing as you sucked. Seungmin let out a sigh as you took him back into your mouth, the tip of his cock barely brushing the back of your throat.
“Keep going, baby,” he murmured, resting his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer. You gagged as the head of his cock tried to push into your throat. “Shit,” he gasped as he let go and you pulled back, coughing. “Sorry,” he murmured. “We can stop if you’d — oh fuck!”
His words were cut off when you took his cock back into your mouth, keeping your hand firmly wrapped around the base as you started to bob your head, taking everything up until you hand. Seungmin let out a choked moan, throwing his head back as you continued to suck him off, now moving your hand as you pulled back.
You let his cock fall from your mouth, continuing to stroke him quickly. Too quickly. He had to stop you before he came. He didn’t want to cum on your face or chest or in your mouth. “S-st-stop,” he stammered, moving his hand to try and grab yours but missing. “Y/N,” he said, a little more firmly. “Baby, stop.” You finally looked up at him, hand stalling but his cock still firmly in your grasp.
“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled your hand off him and slowly knelt down at the edge of your bed. “No,” he murmured, pulling you into a kiss. “You were perfect. I just wasn’t ready to finish,” he added. “Lay back,” he instructed.
As you laid back against the soft material of your comforter, Seungmin took that opportunity to rid himself of his clothes. You started to scoot back towards the middle of the bed but he stopped you. “Here,” he said softly. “I want your ass hanging over the edge of the bed.”
You pouted at him. “But I’ll fall,” you protested. He shook his head as he knelt down. “Just trust me, angel. Do as I say or am I going to have to punish you again?” You shook your head, moving until your hips were hanging off the edge of the bed. You watched as he slipped your panties off before he shrugged your legs over his shoulders, his hands grabbing your hips and holding them in place as he licked his lips.
“Minnie,” you cooed, reaching down to comb your fingers through his dark hair. He looked up at you, his dark gaze meeting yours and making a fresh wave of arousal course through you. “Can’t you just fuck me?” you asked as sweetly as possible. Seungmin chuckled, shaking his head. “No,” he answered. You frowned at him. “Why not? You’ll find I’m more than ready to take it,” you answered.
Seungmin merely chuckled again. “No,” he answered again. “I want a taste first.” 
The words on the tip of your tongue died as you felt him spread your folds and his tongue run from your hole to your clit. The moment his tongue met the nub, he sucked on it, making your thighs involuntarily try to close around his head but he moved his hands, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold them open and keeping you firmly in place.
You were left to the mercy of his tongue as his mouth ravaged your clit. One of your hands moved to grab the bedding by your head in a tight fist while the other combed through Seungmin’s hair, grabbing a handful of the locks. Each time he flicked his tongue, your body jerked and you cried out. 
“M-Minnie. M’gonna cum!”
Seungmin pulled back and you whined only to receive a slap to your pussy which made you gasp, thighs twitching. “You don’t cum until I say so, understand?” You nodded quickly, your orgasm slowly slipping away. Seungmin’s mouth returned, attacking your clit with quick flicks of his tongue until the sensation started to rise again, tension building in your stomach.
“Minnie, I’m close,” you warned him. “Hold it back,” he retorted. “Don’t make me punish you again.”
You bit your tongue, trying to will away the tension and the building orgasm. “I-I don’t think I can,” you sobbed. Seungmin pulled back, delivering another slap to your sex. “Such an impatient and greedy kitten,” he snapped. “Can’t even wait a minute more.”
“Just fuck me then,” you retorted. Seungmin scoffed, almost mockingly. “Oh no,” he said, landing another slap on your clit. “Not until you beg.” You whimpered. If that was all he needed, you could do that. “You should have just said so,” you gasped. “Please Seungmin. Please give me your cock. I want it. I need it.” 
“You need it, huh?” Seungmin asked, brushing his fingers over your clit languidly. He wasn’t trying to bring you to climax, simply giving you some friction while he listened to you. 
“How bad do you want it?”
“I want it so bad, please,” you sobbed. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do everything you say but please Minnie, please fuck me.” You needed him inside you so bad and you weren’t above begging if that’s what he wanted you to do. “One more time,” he cooed. “What do you want?”
“I want your cock, Seungmin. I want you to fuck me!” you snapped. Seungmin moved quickly, letting your legs fall back as he climbed over you. “Middle of the bed, on your hands and knees, now,” he growled. You scrambled to get up, moving into place and presenting yourself to him. He kneeled behind you, hands grabbing your ass and kneading.
“I’m going to fuck you how I want to,” he started as he leaned over your back, the tip of his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. “If it’s too much for you, say ‘pitcher’s mound,’ understand?” he asked. You nodded. A smack rang out as he landed a slap to your ass over the same side he’d made sore earlier.
“Words, kitten. We use our words,” he snapped. “Yes, sir!” you gasped out, your backside burning. He gently ran his hand over the spot soothingly. “What do you say if you need me to stop?” he asked, leaning over your back and whispering in your ear. “Pitcher’s mound,ïżœïżœ you replied softly. You felt him press a tender kiss to your shoulder. “Good,” he cooed.
You felt the tip of his cock press against your entrance and without any resistance, he pushed into you. Once the head was firmly lodged inside you, he snapped his hips, pulling you back to meet his thrust and filling you with one stroke.
You cried out in both pleasure and pain as he buried his cock to the hilt inside you. Seungmin still, thumbs rubbing circular patterns into your skin as he held your hips. He waited for the spasming of your walls to cease before he pulled back, giving you a shallow thrust which made you moan softly.
“Any pain?” he asked quietly. “No,” you replied, shaking your head. “Good,” Seungmin said simply, tightening his hold on your hips. “Remember your safeword,” he reminded you. 
“Cause I’m not stopping until you’re screaming.”
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© kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.
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seungfl0wer · 4 months ago
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*𝙄 đ™‡đ™€đ™«đ™š đ™”đ™€đ™Ș𝙧 𝙇𝙖đ™Ș𝙜𝙝*
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Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (GN)
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None, if I used any gendered pronouns let me know. I don’t think I did but just incase lol
This was requested from my prompts: 2 “I love your laugh”, 14 “How about a kiss?”, 24 “I’m not blushing”
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-đŸ–€
It was dark as Chan and you walked by the river. He was working late, of course. When you suggested to take a walk down the road for some snacks. He groaned getting up teasing you ‘However will he get stuff done.’
Here you were now though, getting Chan out of that studio getting some fresh air and food. The night air felt so refreshing, the smell of the water and food filled the air. The stars sparkling in the night sky but they didn’t sparkle more than they did in his eyes you thought to yourself.
You and Chan both walked and talked, joking about things and talking about deep concepts. “You know I’m still surprised you and Jake broke up” he said as you walked. You looked at him a bit confused, he never really said much about dating. In general he didn’t say anything about it like at all. “and why’s that?” You asked. He shrugged not wanting to look at you “I don’t know, I mean. You’re you. I don’t know how someone could give that up.” He says almost too nonchalantly, like he didn’t want you to pester him to elaborate but you did.
“So what you’re saying is you think I’m super awesome and wanna date me?” You teased him. He almost stopped in his tracks looking up at you. You could tell he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out. Your eyes went big smiling to yourself “Ooh channie likes me” you teased more. Making him roll his eyes a bit as he started walking again. “Yeah? Maybe I do?” He said softly. The words coming out a lot softer than he expected.
“You do??” You said you now stopping in your tracks. “Bangchan. YOU. Like me?” You said eyes looking over him trying to figure if this was some kinda bad joke. “Y/n how could you not see that I do? If anyone else woulda asked me to come out I woulda said no and kept working.” He said with a shy smile. ‘Seriously? How could you not know’ he thought to himself, he never really hid it well. And even if he was trying to hide it, it was hard to keep secrets from you.
Your body kinda moved on its own wrapping your arms around him in a big hug. He gasped a little taken by surprise at your sudden embrace but quickly hugged you back. “So uhm- what do you wanna do for our first date?” You said with a smile looking up at him. He couldn’t help but laugh “oh so now we are going on a date?” He laughed more. Oh that laugh. That smile. It could cure everything, it always Made your heart just melt. “You know. I love your laugh so much. It makes my heart all- happy” you said with a slight blush.
He looked down at you trying to hide his shy smile. His eyes looked over your face “you know the stars make your eyes look even more sparkly” he said almost a whisper. You two stared into each other eyes for what seemed like forever. The world felt like it stood still leaving only you two moving. “Chan.. h-how about a kiss?” You asked words barely being audible but he heard.
He leaned in his hand coming up to caress your cheek before your lips met. He kissed you so softly before pulling away, leaning his head against yours. His thumb rubbed against your cheek as a smile creeped across his face. “You look really cute when you blush” you say almost teasingly but really it made you go all heart eyes.
He pulled away slightly rolling his eyes “I’m not blushing, you’re blushing” he said sticking out his tongue. “You’re such a dork” you say jokingly as you playfully smack his arm. “We haven’t even had our first date and you’re already smacking me AND calling me names?” He teased back poking your sides.
“Just watch out I know karate” you said lifting up your legs and arms in that pose people always do. “Oh so scary” he says laughing. “Let’s go get some ramen yeah?” He said pointing to your favorite little store. “Hell yeah!” You say making him laugh even more. As you both walk towards the store Chan interlocks your fingers together smiling to himself. Finally you knew how he felt and finally he’d be able to treat you like you deserved.
ïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒïčŒ
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me somethingđŸ©”
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp
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xxsycamore · 3 months ago
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🔞IKEMEN BREEDING SEASON🔞 - XXSYCAMORE'S 2000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION EVENT
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On October 28th, 2024, this blog hit 2K followers! Once again, thank you, everyone, for the support, and for sticking around in my writing adventures. I hope you can continue enjoying my work! Now, our previous milestone celebrations were all about fluffy short stories, so I figured it's high time we bring some smut into the mix. Even though spring would have been perfect for the Ikemen Breeding Season, I decided, why wait when we can have it now. Besides, that time is reserved for part 2 of our Steal My Heart!! (1500 followers) event! If you have placed a request for it and haven't received a ficlet yet, don't worry, I haven't deleted anything! :)
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âžș PROMPTS
How do you want the suitor to breed you (or the MC)? :
In the heat of the moment
As proof that you belong to them
To produce an heir
With a chance for twins
While imagining you being pregnant
Making sure that it takes
Making the moment special
When they'd already gotten you pregnant before
With you taking the lead
While you're in heat (Omegaverse)
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â‹†à±šà§ŽËšâŸĄË– àŁȘ 2 separate request openings - Since in the past there have been times when everything has been grabbed in the first 10 minutes from the announcement, I decided it would only be fair for the people in different time zones if I divide it into two batches at different times of the day.
FIRST REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 30TH, 12 PM UTC (8 AM EDT) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)
SECOND REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 31TH, 12 AM UTC (8 PM EDT on the 30th) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)
Both request openings will be closed after I get a total of 15 requests each! I will make separate posts to announce when those start and close.
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âžș RULES:
Understand that these are going to be short NSFW stories, around 500 words each.
Anonymous asks are allowed, but please don't abuse my kindness and don't request if you're a minor!
Pick a character from the list below and a prompt from the prompt list. Threesomes are allowed, so long as no one is related, lol.
Be sure to let me know if you want MC x Suitor(s) or Reader x Suitor(s). If you don't specify, I'll write it as I see fit!
Specify your gender preferences if you have any! If you selected "Reader", I'll by default write them with afab traits. This goes especially for the prompt "Imagining you pregnant" where you could encounter terms including but not limited to: breasts, lactation, love handles, vagina, ovulation, womb, ovaries, pregnant bellies, you get the picture. To bypass all of this, you can ask for a Gender Neutral Reader, or you can be more specific and tell me your preferences in detail.
Mpreg is welcome, sure, why not. This goes both for Male Readers and for Getting your suitor pregnant, like in the case where you picked the Omegaverse prompt and he's an Omega. Go wild.
OCs are NOT allowed, due to how short these stories are going to be versus the research required in order to do justice to your OC. Sorry!
Don't send multiple requests! One per person. Again, I'm put my trust in you about not abusing the anon option.
In the event where I've already received the same prompt with the same character, I'll only write it once!
Don't hesitate to give me details! :) I want to create a work specially crafted for you. If you have a whole scenario in mind, I'd love to hear it, even if I have to squeeze it in the word limit. Where are they doing it, what is the reader wearing, what petname the suitor uses - these are just a few examples! Additionally, since I haven't read all the routes of the characters listed here, if you feel it's needed, you can provide some in-game information about the character if it has a relation to topic. Ex: "I think he'll make a great family man because he canonly loves taking care of the younger ones."
Requests sent outside of the specified time periods won't be accepted. I try to immediately answer these so you'll know, but I might also straight-up delete anything that doesn't follow the rules.
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âžș AVAILABLE CHARACTERS:
Ikemen Villains: Wiliam; Harrison; Liam; Elbert; Alfons; Roger; Jude; Ellis; Victor; Darius; Nica; Ring
Ikemen Prince: Leon; Chevalier; Yves; Nokto; Licht; Jin; Luke; Clavis; Rio; Sariel; Gilbert; Keith; Silvio, Cyran/Cyril, Matthias, Kagari
Ikemen Vampire: Napoleon(pls); Leonardo; Mozart; Arthur; Vincent; Theo; Isaac; Jean; Dazai; Sebastian; Comte; Shakespeare; Vlad; Faust; Charles; Drake; Galileo
Ikemen Revolution: Lancelot; Ray; Jonah; Fenrir; Edgar; Sirius; Kyle; Luka; Zero; Seth; Blanc; Oliver; Loki; Harr; Mousse; Dalim; Dean; Levie
Ikemen Sengoku: Nobunaga; Masamune; Shingen; Hideyoshi; Mitsuhide; Kanetsugu; Ieyasu; Mitsunari; Yukimura; Sasuke; Kenshin; Kenyo; Ranmaru; Motonari; Keiji; Kicho; Yoshimoto
Midnight Cinderella: Alyn; Giles; Louis; Leo; Byron; Nico; Albert; Robert; Rayvis; Sid
â€§â‚ŠËšâ€àŒ‰â€§â‚ŠËš. đŠàŒ˜â‹†
Please understand that I can't guarantee that I'm going to write all of these! I have a lot of issues IRL that I need to take care of, which leads me to either not having a lot of free time or not having the needed energy and inspiration to write. Either way, I hope you can have fun with this event! I can't wait to see what you send me. Have a great day, and I'll see you in my askbox soon! <3
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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago
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break the ice |hockey!eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: a scheduling mishap leads you and eddie to meet. or how you and hockey!eddie's story begins lol.
contains: eddie au. fluff. that's it. happy one year!
The hiss of the puck gliding over the ice, skittering into the goal, skates whizzing to a stop. It was comforting to Eddie. He’d never really known what people meant when they’d say “get in the zone” growing up, until he started playing again, playing for real this time. It was easy to focus on the sounds, silence your brain by tricking it to listen to the claps of the stick on the ice, the pop of the puck soaring, the- 
“Skidamarink a dink, a dink. Skidamarink a doo.” 
A clean miss, startled by the sudden blaring of music from behind him. Skates wobbling, knees locking into place. Eddie turned, squinting towards the other end of the rink. 
“Hey, hey!” Eddie skated, shouting over the music- horrendous at that, what was this song? 
“Excuse me,” You looked up, adjusting the volume on your boom box. “Hey, uh, sorry this is a closed practice.” Eddie skated to you, hockey stick waving exaggeratedly behind him. 
“Yeah it is.” You nodded, head tilting to the side slightly. “Are you
 here to drop off?” 
“What? No, no, I-” Eddie paused, brows furrowed at you lightly. “I- this is my practice.” 
“Your practice?” You repeated, pointing at the ice below you. 
“Yeah.” 
“You’re here for the Snowflakes?” 
“No, I play for-” Eddie shakes his head, hand running over his face. “Snowflakes? What-” 
“-The three to four year old class?” You press, brow raised, face contorted in what Eddie could only assume was your best judgment masking, though by the scrunch in your nose, it wasn’t working very well. “For ice skating lessons?” 
“Lessons? Sweetheart, c’mon, does it look like I need lessons?” Eddie grins, smug and sweet. His heart skips when you bite back a smile, lips twitching. “I’m- I rent out the time to practice.” 
“Oh,” You frown slightly. “I, uh, I did too.” 
“You know what, let me- let me just go ask Max.” Eddie flashes you a dazzling smile. “I’ll get it sorted out.” 
“You’re both right.” Max droned behind the desk, flipping through a magazine lazily. “Both of you have the slot for today.”
“What? Why-Why would Bobby book up both spots?” Eddie frowned. “That makes no fuckin’ sense. I’m here every Thursday-” 
Max huffed, snatching the scheduling paper off the back wall, slapping it on the desk. “Eddie Munson. Five to six-thirty. Left.” Her blue eyes raised in boredom. “That means, you’re on the left side.” 
“Left? This is- That’s fuckin’ ridiculous, Max, c’mon-” 
“-It’s Bobby.” Max rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to double book, make more money during the dead season. I don’t know what to tell you.” 
“So I have to practice with a bunch of fuckin’ kids running around?” Eddie huffs. “How the hell am I gonna do that? Huh? Do you hear the shit they’re playing in there?” Eddie throws a hand out towards the rink. “I’m already about to lose my mind.” 
“So get some ear plugs, Eddie, I don’t know.” Max huffed, throwing her hands up. “You know I can’t refund you, so either leave, or suck it up. I honestly don’t care, Munson, up to you.” 
Eddie’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek, rolling furiously. Bunch of kids skating all around him, screaming and shit, he’d never get anything done. 
Still, Eddie’s eyes wandered back to you. In your matching tracksuit, a powdery blue that seemed to shine even under the fluorescents of the rink. He supposed there could be worse people to share the ice with. He faced Tommy Raider again next season, and he’d rather be with a bunch of screaming toddlers anyday over him anyday. 
Besides, the kids weren’t so bad. The occasional screech or laughter when you’d have them do something silly. It was cute, honestly, Eddie decided, seeing these little kids wobble around on skates while you cooed enthusiastically at them. 
“Ok, my little flurries,” You grinned, cheeks aching from the amount of feigned enthusiasm you had to muster. “Next week we’re going to really work on our glide.” You pushed off dramatically, soaring a few spaces then stopping. 
It was so exaggerated, over the top and made the kids giggle; Eddie was sure he was in love. 
“So be sure to be practicing holding your arms way, way out!” You extended your arms, beaming at the few who mimicked you. “And I’ll see you all next week!” 
Eddie had spent the majority of the time practicing what he’d say to you, how he’d ask you out. A classic chat up line always worked at the bar, always helped him score. Still, his knees wobbled, tight and a little unsure as he skated over to you. 
You were waving goodbye to a student, stepping off to the bleachers to undo your own skates. “Hey,” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobbly and unsure in his throat, teeth clenching in a grimace.
You looked up, a tiny half smile in greeting. “Hi. Hope we didn’t bother you too much.” 
“What? No. No, no, no. No, you didn’t-” Eddie took a breath, heart hammering in his chest, ringing in his ears. “It was
 Yeah, that was really fun to watch actually. The, uh, seeing the kids in their skates and shit. You’re-You’re really good with them, and, uh
” The fuck is that Munson? The fuck are you doing? Eddie’s mind raced, furiously. 
“Thanks.” You grinned, a wicked little smile that had Eddie’s cheeks flushing. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Felt like he was back in middle school, swooning any time Connie Donohue would swish her hair over her shoulder, letting it land on his desk and brush his hand. 
“They’re a fun age. Super sweet. Not like the asshole eight year olds.” Your finger curled under the untied laces, shimmying them loose. 
“Oh? Eight year olds, they're the asshole group?” Eddie grinned, leaning against the rink’s surface. He hoped you couldn’t tell how he was flexing, muscles protruding under the tight, black material of his shirt. 
“Total assholes. I had them last year, and that’s why I switched-” 
“-Excuse me?” A tiny squeak of a voice came from behind you. You turned, expecting one of your kids who had forgotten a mitten or jacket. 
“Are-Are you Eddie Munson?” The small boy with wide eyes gaped at Eddie. 
Eddie flushed, swallowing, eyes flickering to you. Your brows creasing, looking at the tiny boy then back at Eddie. “Yeah, yeah that’s me.” Eddie forced a smile, gripping the rink as he stepped onto the bleachers, settling on the ones across from you. 
“What’s your name, little man?” Eddie grinned. 
“Samuel.” The boy grinned, a little shyly. 
“Samuel, that’s a cool name. How old are you?” 
“Eight.” The boy beamed. 
Eddie’s eyes cut over to yours, lips twisting, fighting back a grin. You blushed, turning away from his glances, cheeks burning with heat you hoped he didn’t see. “Eight? That’s a
 that’s a cool age, right?” 
“Right.” Samuel nodded. “I-I watch you all the time with my dad and my mom.” Samuel babbled in true kid fashion. “You’re my favorite hockey player.” 
“Me? No way, c’mon.” Eddie shook his head playfully. 
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re from Hawkins too.” Samuel nodded, matter of factly. “They said that on-on the TV one time when I was watching.” 
“Yeah, that’s right.” Eddie nodded. “Used to practice here when I was your age.” He nodded over towards the rink behind him. 
“We went one time to a game, and
 and you lost a tooth!” Samuel giggled in true, eight year old asshole form. “The other guy knocked it out when-when you were fighting!” 
Eddie laughed, a howling of a cackle that bounced off the walls of the rink, over the hum of the electricity and heat in the stands.
You watched carefully, interest piqued. You knew he was good, you’d watched him practice, it was obvious he had skill. And the name did sound familiar, plastered across headlines and the local news, one of Hawkins’ very own made it big. 
Eddie signed Samuel’s jersey, left him scampering back to his awaiting parents with a triumphant grin. “What are the odds of that?” Eddie beamed, grinning ear to ear when he looked over at you. 
You laughed, knotting your own skates together, reaching for your snow boots. “I, uh, I didn’t realize you-you played for the
 Played hockey.” 
“Yeah,” Eddie shrugged, inked hand running down his arm. You tried not to stare. “It’s alright, really. Not bad benefits, but work hours are a little crazy.” 
“Yeah?” You laughed lightly. “I would say so. Pretty demanding.” 
“Oh yeah. And you lose a tooth or two sometimes.” Eddie’s eyes cut to yours playfully, a dimpled grin that had your heart shooting with heat. 
“Yikes.” You sucked in a breath dramatically. “That seems brutal.” 
“You ever been?” Eddie asked, untying his own skates, letting the blade rest on the cement barrier in front of him. 
“To
 what? A game?” 
“Yeah.” 
“No.” You shook your head. “Not, like, a real hockey game. Not
 Not one of yours.” Your knee bounced nervously, a little unsure even in your own answer. 
“You should come.” Eddie shrugged cooly, hoping you couldn’t see the way his hands shook with adrenaline. “Come to the opener in a few weeks. I’ll get you tickets.” 
“What?” You laughed lightly. “You- No, you don’t even know my name, and you’re gonna get me tickets? Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. 
“Well, I was hoping I could get your name, maybe your number too.” Eddie’s lips pursed lightly. “Get to know you before the game. Can give you those tickets next time I see you. What do you think? You free Friday night? Saturday?” 
You blushed, looking down at your boots, fiddling with the laces to avoid his gaze. “Saturday. I don’t have to work.” You looked back at him. 
“Saturday it is.” Eddie beamed. 
You scrawled your name and number on the torn corner piece of the schedule. Eddie had snatched it and a pen from behind the desk, ignoring Max’s huffs of annoyance. He’d clutched it the whole way home, paper a little soft from the dampness of his sweaty hands. The tiny slip of paper was taped to his landline, staying there long after Eddie had memorized the number. In your pretty, loopy handwriting for Eddie to see each time he called you. 
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scudslut · 1 year ago
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A New Years Surprise 🎀
daryl x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol
a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/
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“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.
Currently, you were a mess.
Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.
There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.
Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.
It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.
Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.
Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.
Either way, you hated the celebrations.
This one in particular though, caught you off guard.
You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.
And for one reason only.
Daryl.
You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.
Well, here it was.
And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.
Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.
You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.
Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.
This was just awful.
You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.
You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.
The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.
Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.
He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.
Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.
His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.
You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.
You should have known he’d be quicker than you.
“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.
“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.
Oh. He likes it.
Heat pooled in your stomach.
Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.
You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.
Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.
“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.
He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.
“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.
Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.
He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.
He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.
He was a hunter after all.
He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.
Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.
And so did he.
Daryl Dixon was a tease.
“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.
“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.
“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.
He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.
All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.
“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.
You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.
“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.
Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.
He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.
Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.
Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.
“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.
He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.
He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.
“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”
Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.
“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.
He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.
Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”
Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.
“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.
As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.
Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.
Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.
You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.
You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.
All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.
He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.
“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”
“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.
You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.
Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.
“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.
“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.
You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.
“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.
“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.
Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.
His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.
“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.
You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.
Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.
He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.
“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”
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nicholasdaymiller · 4 months ago
Note
could you do the prompt “lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos” with nick miller and a super short reader??
SHORTIE — nick miller x short!gn!reader
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[imagine the gif is how he lifts you up đŸ„°]
-> okay, here's my first attempt at writing nick miller fic. it's very short, as i said they would be, but i hope you enjoy! i'm nervous lol
‱‱‱‱
it's the eighth wedding of the season. you and the loft family: winston, schmidt, jess, and nick are all sitting around your table, a little bored, and very much wanting to go home.
jess taps you on the shoulder, and you blink rapidly, realising you had been dozing off, "huh? what?"
"they're doing a wedding party photo," she explains, "come on."
"let's get this over with so we can get the hell outta here." winston comments as he rushes out.
you follow your group of friends out onto a field outside, where the entire guest list is shuffling around, finding their spots for the photo.
you end up wedged to the left of the bride, a couple of heads back. the photographer announces loudly that he's ready to start taking shots, and that's when you get up on your toes, trying to get your head in over the taller people in front of you.
tip toes aren't enough, so you try jumping whenever the photographer yells, "aaaand, 3, 2, 1..."
the jumping doesn't help either, so you grab onto schmidt and nick's shoulders. "guys, can you boost me up a little?"
schmidt doesn't hear you amongst the chatter of the guests, but nick looks down at you, confused.
"why?" brows scrunch as he looks down at you.
you gesture pointedly at the people blocking you from being in the photo. "i'm too small." you laugh.
"i gotcha, shortie." nick glances around, then smiles, "i have an idea."
your eyes widen when you suddenly feel one of nick's arms wrap around your waist, while his other slides under your legs. he hoists you up bridal-style. "oof! there we go."
the new height means you can see above the heads in front of you. "uh– thank you." you reply, trying to ignore the butterflies that swarm your stomach at the contact — your arms wrapped around nick's neck, his holding you up with ease.
the photographer yells, "alright! last one, let's make this a fun one!"
you glance at nick, and he nods at you encouragingly before turning back to the camera and sticking out his tongue. you wrap one arm tightly around him, then throw your other arm in the arm, grinning at the camera.
a few days later, when the photos are posted on facebook, you stop on a particular shot. in this photo, nick had just picked you up, and your eyes are locked onto each other, while the rest of the bridal party is looking ahead. you click save.
‱‱‱‱
[if you want me to try writing some more nick stuff - go to this post for some prompts you can send in ❀]
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nahoney22 · 6 months ago
Note
Hello! I absolutely love love LOVE your work. I be rereading on here and on Ao3 and your writing is just phenomenal!! I wanted to know if I can please request an NSFW fem reader x Hunter.
Reader is mad or annoyed with “The Great Sergeant of clone force 99” always on top of her ever since she joined the batch like how she almost got injured but it was only Hunter’s overprotectiveness that might have been the problem and at some point they get in to a really heated argument on the Marauder where she wants to leave the batch and Hunter will be glad because he doesn’t have to look after someone
. until something snaps between them and all hell breaks loose. Even hidden feelings are let loose lol. Also, there’s this song that I picture it with for some reason. It’s “when you coming to see me?” by Mawr if you wanna take listen :).
Anyways, again I love your work and ive never requested something to anyone before so idk if the request is well written and/or too long😅 but i know you can execute it so well if you decide on accepting my request. Thank you!!!! ♄♄♄
Later’s Better Than Never*** 🌊
đŸ«§ Pairings: Hunter x Female!Reader
word count: 3.6k
prompts: none
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When tensions finally reaching breaking point, your need to leave becomes evident. Hunter however makes it harder than it should be.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Female reader, explicit sexual content and language, dirty talk, light dom!Hunter, very light breathplay ie choking, fingering, finger sucking, cum eating, oral ie blowjob, p in v sex, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, love confessions, Hunter is overprotective, light angst, arguing, not proofread.
authors note: Sorry for the wait my lovely @lamiliani, enjoy, I hope this is okay! đŸ©”
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Hunter had been unbearable since the mission briefing.
The plan was straightforward: infiltrate a high-stakes gala, seduce the host, and extract crucial information about a new Imperial weapon. The client you were working for had specifically chosen you for this task after witnessing your charisma and capability. The rest of the squad respected and trusted you, but a certain Sergeant seemed determined to undermine your confidence at every turn.
"Remember, stick to the plan," Hunter ordered for what felt like the hundredth time as you adjusted your attire in the Marauder. The sleek dress you wore was perfect for the gala, accentuating your figure in a way that was both elegant and seductive. Which was a total change considering your normal attire of battered and worn armour and civvies that were desperate for a good wash.
You sighed, your patience wearing thin. "I know the plan, Hunter," you retorted, turning to face him. The frustration in your voice was evident.
Hunter's eyes bore into yours, a mix of concern and frustration etched into his features. His jaw was set, the muscles in his neck tense. "One slip-up, and it could all go wrong. We can’t afford that."
You narrowed your eyes, knowing he was referring to the time when the plan had not gone exactly as intended. It had been a life-or-death situation, but you had learned from it. Besides, the only person you had put in danger was yourself, so you didn’t understand why he was still bitter about it.
"That 'slip-up' was months ago," you shot back, your temper flaring. "I’ve proven myself since then."
"I’ll believe it when I see it." Hunter’s tone was cold as he stormed off into the cockpit, leaving you staring daggers at his back. How insufferable could one man be?
You took a deep breath, trying not to let it get to you. You mentally and physically prepared yourself, going over the plan in your head with determination. You had this.
It was just a shame someone else didn’t think so.
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The gala was in full swing. You slipped into the crowd as planned, your eyes on the target. You were enticing and seductive as you engaged him in conversation, your charm drawing him in instantly. Everything was going according to plan as he began to let slip his plans.
Then Hunter appeared.
His sudden arrival, a shadow in the background, disrupted your focus. The target noticed your concerned distraction, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Before you could salvage the situation, a gentle hand on his arm to draw his attention back to you, his arm wrapped around your neck into a chokehold as alarms started to blare, and chaos erupted.
Cursing under your breath, you freed yourself with ease and struck a punch straight to his gut before ducking to cover as blaster fire whizzed past your head. Everything happened so fast and so slow at the same time. You barely managed to escape with the others, the mission a total failure. And this time, you refused to let it be seen as your fault.
Back on the Marauder, you let everything out. You marched up the gangplank, ripping the bangles off your wrists and the pins that had secured your hair in place, tossing them across the ship carelessly. You let everyone file in, steam practically blowing out of your ears as your eyes landed on the Sergeant.
"What is your problem? Why can’t you trust me?" you yelled as soon as the ramp closed behind you, your voice echoing through the ship. Your chest heaved with the effort of keeping your anger in check, your hands trembling slightly.
"You weren’t getting the job done!" Hunter growled, his tone dripping with frustration. His eyes were dark, his brows furrowed in anger. "You just stood there twirling your drink around all night."
You stared at him in disbelief, looking to the others who avoided eye contact at all costs. "I wasn’t doing anything? Hunter, he was about to tell me his plans, and then you just swooped in like you have some damn savior complex."
His jaw tightened, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. "Maybe if you weren’t so reckless in the past, I could have let you get on with it."
"The client wanted me to do it. I wasn’t being reckless!" You seethed, turning red in the face. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms. "One mistake, Hunter! Just one!" You stepped closer, your voice low and dangerous. "How many times do I have to prove myself?"
Hunter’s eyes narrowed, his fists just as tightly clenched as his jaw. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. "You don’t get it, do you? One mistake is all it takes to get you killed."
His words cut deep, a mixture of anger and hurt swirling within you. Your heart pounded, each beat echoing your frustration and the feeling of being made to feel useless. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, a mix of rage and something more primal simmering just beneath the surface.
"Guys, stop it!" Omega’s voice trembled, her distress clear. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with unshed tears.
Echo placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let’s give them some space," he said softly, leading her towards the exit with Tech and Wrecker following. "They need to sort this out." He looked at both of you with a stern gaze before he left.
As the door closed, sealing you in the Marauder alone with Hunter, silence fell.
Finally, you both started to speak at once, voices overlapping. Hunter gestured for you to go ahead, his expression begrudging.
"I’m tired of this, Hunter," you began, your voice steady despite the storm inside you that was waiting to tear this ship apart. "Tired of you treating me like I’m not good enough. If this is how it’s going to be, maybe I should leave."
Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, anger, maybe something more—but he masked it quickly. "Maybe you should go," he said, his voice rough. His expression was a mixture of frustration and something else, something softer. "I am done having to watch over you, babysitting you."
You scoffed at him, shaking your head in disbelief. "Has it ever come to your attention that maybe you’re the problem?" You pointed at his chest, your finger almost digging into the fabric of his shirt. "You’re weighing this whole team down recently, and I want to know why."
"There’s nothing wrong with my leadership," he snapped back, his voice sharp. But as he spoke, the space between you seemed to shrink. You were close, so close. His breath was hot on your skin. "You just don’t know how to be careful."
Your heart raced, the anger giving way to a heated flush spreading through your body. The proximity was intoxicating, his scent, his presence overwhelming your senses. You could feel the tension morphing into something you never thought you’d feel.
His breath was on your skin, his presence overwhelming. "Say the word, Hunter," you challenged, voice low into a whisper. "And I’ll go."
He didn’t move, didn’t speak. His pupils were blown the more you looked at each other, breathing shallow. You watched his throat work as he swallowed hard, struggling to find his voice.
Your hands rested on the underside of the console, securing you in place as you were practically backed up into it. And confusingly, you were a different type of riled up.
Then, you saw him wet his lower lip, just a touch that made your heart momentarily stop. And he noticed—he noticed. And he smirked. Of course he would; his heightened senses would be picking up on everything—the quickening of your pulse, the heat pooling between your thighs. You sincerely hoped he didn’t notice.
"Hunter," you spoke louder and hopefully more sternly, but the slight tremble in your tone begged to differ. "Tell me you want me to go."
His eyes momentarily closed, conflict spreading across his features. "Tell me to go," you whispered again, but again came no reply.
You waited for a few more moments before you found yourself laughing, almost pitifully. For yourself, and for him. "I don’t have time for this," you grumbled and turned to move away from him, but there was a sudden hold on your arm, stopping you completely.
Your gaze snapped back to him, eyes wide. His, however, flickered down your body, lingering, then met yours again, blazing with an intensity that made your heart stop once more. The silence stretched, electric, until you could bear it no longer. "Hunter?" you whispered.
Suddenly, he pulled you closer, body flush against his and his lips just inches from yours. With a soft murmur, voice hoarse, he said, "Don’t go."
Your breath hitched, your body responding to the unspoken desire in his words. The bitterness, the anger, it all melted away, leaving only a new and raw need. You both closed the gap, lips crashing together in a fierce, desperate kiss.
His hands roamed your body, finding their way to the small of your back while your hands tangled in his hair, running and tugging the textured locks through your fingers. You gasped as he pulled you even closer than before, his body pressing you back to the control panel. The heat of his touch pushed shivers of excitement down your spine. How was this happening? And why didn’t it feel wrong?
Hunter pulled back just enough to mutter against your lips, “I’ve always cared. More than I should.”
You met his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, and whispered, “Then show me.”
His response was immediate and fervent. Hunter lifted you effortlessly, placing you onto the console before his strong hands slipped under your dress, his touch rough and impatient, yet undeniably thrilling. His fingers traced the length of your legs, caressing your thighs and emitting electric jolts of desire through you.
"You were so worked up when we were arguing," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "I could smell how wet you were for me."
You were speechless. Then, you gasped as his fingers trailed further up, hiking your dress higher until his hands cupped your sex. The realisation that you were bare beneath the dress, no panties to obstruct his touch made him breathless.
"Fuck," he breathed shakily, his fingers slipping between your folds, feeling the slickness there. "No panties? That’s
 that’s so sexy of you." He purrs, gauging your reaction as he brushes a thumb over your clit. “And you’re so wet.”
Your breath hitched, a moan escaping your lips as he began to explore you. His fingers moved expertly, teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You arched into him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. “H-Hunter!”
"Is this what you wanted?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "To be fucked by me?"
You could only nod, biting your lip hard as your voice lost to the sensations overwhelming you. His fingers thrust in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit with an agonisingly beautiful precision. “Mmm, you like this don’t you? You feel beautiful.” The pleasure builds quickly, a coil of heat tightening in your core.
“I love it, Hunter.” You gasp. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Hunter’s other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he worked you towards the edge. "So tight around my fingers."
You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate for more as your body shakes. His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you to hit that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your body trembled, the pleasure almost too much to bear.
"That’s it," he growled, his voice a rough caress as his lips breathe down your neck. "Come for me. I know you can do it. Come all over my fingers, baby girl.”
With a final, desperate cry, you shattered. His fingers, the pace, his pet names, everything makes your climax crash over you in throbbing waves. Hunter didn’t stop though; his fingers continued their relentless thrash on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess, your juices pouring down your thighs.
When he finally pulled his fingers from you, they were slick with your cum. His gaze locked with yours, dazed and in awe as you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a greedy hunger. The sight of him, the feel of his lips around his fingers, sent another jolt of arousal through you. “You l-look good doing that,” you say bashfully, even more so as he collected more on the fingers he just sucked and placed them flat against his tongue, groaning desperately.
"You taste incredible," he murmured, his eyes dark and hungry. "I never thought someone could taste so sweet."
Without another word, he sank to his knees before you, spreading your legs wider to grant him better access as he pushed your dress up again. The sight of him there, between your thighs, was definitely a sight to behold.
His hands grip your hips, pulling you to the edge of the console. His breath was hot against your swollen folds, making you shudder in eagerness. "I want to taste you again," he smirks, his tone low and gravelly. "I want you to come on my tongue."
“Take me, Hunter, it’s all yours.” The first swipe of his tongue was both a shock and a relief. You gasped, your hands flying to his hair, gripping the locks to hold him in place.
"Hunter," you moaned, your voice trembling. "Oh, fuck."
His tongue moved with a desperate hunger, lapping at your folds and circling your clit with a precision that made you writhe. He groaned against you, the vibrations adding to the intense pleasure building inside you. “I love hearing you swear
 such a dirty mouth.”
Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his mouth, more of that intense sensation. Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened, almost bruising as holds you steady as literally he devoured you. He alternated between long, slow licks and rapid, flicking movements that had you teetering on the edge of another orgasm. The sounds he made—groans, grunts, and the slick noises of his mouth on your wetness—only heightened the moment as you matched his sounds with tender moans of your own.
You tugged at his hair, needing him closer, deeper. "Don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate as you begin to roll your hips against his face. "Please, don’t stop."
He didn’t. If anything, your words spurred him on, his tongue working even more fervently. He sucked on your clit, gently at first, then harder, drawing it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it before plunging his finger into you for that extra push. Your entire body tensed, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.
You cried out, your nails digging into his scalp as you came again, the orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you shaking, more so than before.
Slowly, he pulled back from your cunt, his lips glistening with your aftermath. He looked up at you, his eyes blown and satisfied. "Stars, I can’t get enough of you
 I’ve dreamt about being between your legs.”
His words surprised you, wondering if he was just saying it in the heat of the moment or if he was saying the truth but for now, you could only nod, still trying to catch your breath. Your body hummed with satisfaction, every nerve ending still tingling from the intensity of your release. Hunter stood, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips.
"You’re amazing," he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was slow, languid, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, sharing your taste between you. You sighed into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.
When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice a soft rumble.
“But
 I thought you didn’t want me.” You whisper against his lips, eyes closed as you try to get your head around everything.
He sighs, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve been pushing you away because
 I couldn’t imagine if anything bad were to happen to you.”
“You’ve been cruel to me,” you reiterate, a little bitter as you pull your head back, “but you
” you piece it all together, his obvious jealousy of you and that guy tonight, his toughness of overprotectiveness. He cared. In a bad way. But alas, he cared. And a part of you always wanted him. You were just too determined never to admit it.
“I’m sorry,” he says with honesty, his hands leaving your hips to take a hold of each of your hands, “I really am.”
You search his face, coming to your conclusion. Hunter's eyes blazed with need as you gently pushed him back. At first he thought you were going to push him away completely, telling him this was a mistake but then, you dropped to your knees before him.
Hunter's eyes widened in surprise but then glowed with hunger while your hands were steady, moving to his belt, undoing it. With your voice husky with desire, you whisper. "Let me?”
He nodded, swallowing hard. You freed his hardened cock from the confines of his pants, the sight of it making your mouth water instantly. “You have such a beautiful cock,” you say sweetly, giving it an experimental pump. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip, tasting the precum that had already gathered there from earlier antics.
Hunter groaned, his hands finding their way into your hair, gently guiding you. "Fuck, you’re beautiful," he muttered, his voice thick with need.
You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper. His grip on your hair tightened, and you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint he was barely managing to hold onto. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in deeper, your tongue tracing the vein along the underside of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back, exposing his throat. You glanced up, taking in the sight of him—the way his lips parted, the way his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. It spurred you on. It made you want to give him everything.
You started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his length, taking him as deep as you could. Each time you pulled back, you flicked your tongue over the sensitive tip, making him shudder. You could feel his control slipping, his hips starting to thrust gently into your mouth.
“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice ragged. “You’re so good at this.” His free hand grasps your jaw, holding your head in place as his gentle thrusts become more eager. “That’s it baby.”
His words sent a thrill through you, and you doubled your efforts, sucking him harder, faster and matching his thrusts. You reached up, cupping his balls and rolling them gently in your hand, feeling his body respond to your touch. His breathing grew more ragged, his grip on your hair tighter. Soon his hand on your jaw moved to your throat, chuckling as he practically felt the way your throat contracts and tightens with every time he moves in and out of your mouth.
“Stars, you’re amazing,” he panted. “Keep going, keep going.”
But then he pulled you back, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. He was breathing hard, his eyes wild with need. “I can’t
 I need you,” he growled, pulling you up to your feet.
You barely had time to register what was happening before he was lifting you, your back pressed against the console again but with your dress being ripped away from your body. He spread your thighs, and then he was there, his cock pressing against your entrance.
He slid into you in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The sensation of him filling you completely made you cry out, your breathing harsh. “Hunter,” you gasped, your voice trembling.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hips starting a relentless rhythm. “Such a nice pussy, so perfect.”
He moved with a desperation that matched your own, each thrust deep and hard, hitting that perfect spot inside you. You start to grin, never having been so fucked desperately in all your life. He was disheveled, panting your name like a man starved as his cock sinks deep into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more. A lot more. “You’re fucking me so good, Hunter! D-don’t stop.”
“You’re mine,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
His sudden words sent you over the edge, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your nails dragging down his back, leaving marks and claiming him.
“Yes, come for me,” he urged, his thrusts growing more erratic. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
You did, your body spasming around him, milking him. His grip on your hips tightened, his own release imminent. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to fill you up,” he panted. With a final, deep thrust, he came, his body shuddering against yours. You held him close, your own body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. He stayed there, buried deep inside you, his breath slowly evening out.
“I love you,” he whispered again, his voice softer now, more tender.
You smiled, your hands gently caressing his back as you both succumbed to the evening. “I love you too.”
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justaparsec94 · 1 month ago
Text
Firsts
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Author's Note: For @spaceyjessa. Written for the prompts: Snowed In and First Christmas (I couldn't decide so I combined them lol). I'm a little rusty after not writing for so long so I hope this is ok! Happy Holidays!
Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader
Word Count: 4,407
If Crosshair had to pick one thing out of his long list of dislikes as the thing he liked least, it would probably be snow. He let out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting from one foot to the other in an effort to maintain some warmth as he stood outside The Havoc Marauder. Even with his HUD on his view was almost completely obstructed by the falling snow. Perhaps, that was part of why he disliked it so much, snipers and poor visibility didn’t mix well. But the bigger reason was because he just downright hated the cold. No planet had any right to be this cold. It was icier than a Kaminoan’s heart. 
In theory, it had been a simple mission: retrieve Separatist intel from a supposedly abandoned outpost on some outer rim planet that no one had ever heard the name of before. It was easy—so easy that he and his brothers had actually been offended when the mission had come through to them. But in typical Bad Batch fashion, nothing ever turned out quite as easy as they expected.
The first problem had been that the abandoned outpost wasn’t actually abandoned, but that had made this boring mission much less boring. There was nothing The Batch liked more than scrapping a bunch of clankers. They’d made sure the place was well and truly abandoned once they were through with it and grabbed the data chip that they’d been sent to retrieve. It was at that point as they’d been on the way back to their ship that they’d encountered problem number two, the weather. It had been cold and snowing when they’d arrived but what had started out as a light dusting had turned into a downright blizzard. They’d barely been able to see a foot in front of them as they’d made their way back, the wind so strong it felt as if it was blowing right through their supposedly insulated armour. 
They’d made it though, mostly because Tech had a homing beacon on The Marauder that he could trace on his data pad but then they had encountered problem number three, likely due to the snow, their ship wouldn’t start. Instead of powering up like usual, all they were greeted with were warning alarms. 
All of which had led to his current position, standing guard outside, miserable, in the freezing cold while Tech was in the bowels of the ship, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. He cursed softly under his breath as he shifted from foot to foot again, trying to bring back some feeling into his frozen feet. A quick look at his HUD showed that the temperature was just continuing to drop. 
A curse from beneath The Marauder snapped him out of his own brooding, he turned and took a few short steps to where he could just make out Tech’s boots sticking out from underneath the ship. He ducked down, joints protesting from the cold as he did so. 
“What is it?” He called out to Tech.  
Tech didn’t answer for a long moment, so long that Crosshair was about to call out to him, or better yet, kick him in the leg when he started to move. Crosshair stood back up as his brother crawled out from underneath the ship.
“I have discovered the issue,” Tech stated matter-of-factly as he pulled out his datapad, his helmeted gaze shifting down to it as he began to type something. 
Crosshair waited for a long moment, crossing his arms over his chest once more, irritation growing by the moment, “Are you going to elaborate or
”
“Oh,” Tech made a surprised sound, as though he’d forgotten that Crosshair was there, “Well, the good news is that I will be able to make the necessary repairs. Unfortunately, based on the research I have done on this planet and the way the temperature is rapidly falling, I will not be able to complete the repairs until tomorrow morning. If I attempted to do so now I would likely freeze to death before the repairs are completed.” 
Crosshair was quiet for a moment as he took in that bit of information, “It would be a noble sacrifice,” He said before he snickered, ducking out of the way as Tech swiped at him. 
With the mystery of the broken ship now solved, Crosshair wasted no time in getting back inside and out of the snow. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of staying the night on this planet but at least The Marauder still had heat. And most important of all, you were on the ship.
Crosshair shook the snow that had accumulated on him off as the ramp hissed closed behind the two of them. The snow was gone but the chill in his bones remained as he reached up to pull his helmet off his head. He only managed to take a step further into the ship before he was accosted by a small body. 
“Here,” You said quickly, throwing one of the heated blankets you kept stored on board as part of your med kit over his shoulders. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, shivering slightly as you moved away to do the same for Tech. 
Before he could even frown at the loss of contact you’d returned to his side, concern etched on your features as you looked up at him. His heart rattled in his chest as your gazes met, a feeling that wasn’t new to him but still caught him off guard every time. You were so beautiful, sometimes it was like staring directly at a muzzle flash. 
His eyebrows shot up in surprise as you reached out to place a gentle hand on the exposed skin on his neck. Your brow furrowed as his skin tingled beneath the touch, the warmth of your hand against his cold skin sent a shiver down his spine. He cast a quick look over at Tech but his brother wasn’t paying any attention, instead, he was typing away on his datapad, the blanket you’d given him thrown over his shoulders. 
He lifted a gloved hand to cover your own, expression questioning as you looked at him. The relationship between the two of you was still relatively new, having come to a head after you’d been injured on a mission a few months previously, so he still wasn’t quite used to public displays of affection. Generally, you were entirely professional whenever his brothers were around and he was well, himself, so this gentle touch was somewhat surprising. Usually, it was reserved for the quiet moments between the two of you. 
“You’re freezing,” you replied softly, seemingly catching on to his line of thinking, “You need to get out of this armour. It’s just trapping in the cold air.” 
Crosshair smirked, his voice only loud enough for you to hear, “Trying to get me undressed?” 
“Cross,” you rolled your eyes but a smile bloomed on your face, “Behave.” 
He had another snarky response on the tip of his tongue but he was interrupted by Hunter coming out of the cockpit, Wrecker hot on his heels. 
“What’s the situation Tech?” Hunter asked, dark brow furrowed with concern as he looked at their brother. 
“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Crosshair drawled before Tech could answer earning him a glare from both Hunter and Tech. He snorted in amusement before his attention was pulled away by your warm and nimble fingers making easy work of removing his armour. Normally, he wouldn’t accept help with his gear, even from you, but in that moment he wasn’t about to turn away from any source of heat. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up in a ball beneath the warm blanket hanging over his shoulders. Preferably with you. 
Hunter sighed, rubbing his hand against his face in frustration before looking back at Tech, “I guess the bad news.”  
“Delivering the information in that way would be illogical,” Tech stated, “I have discovered the source of the problem and I will be able to repair it, however due to the storm and the rapidly falling temperature I will not be able to do so until the storm breaks. According to the weather reports and information I have gathered on this planet, that should be sometime tomorrow morning.” 
Hunter groaned while you paused your work momentarily. A considering look overtook your face as you looked between Hunter and Tech. 
“Aw man,” Wrecker groaned loudly, “you mean we’re stranded???”
“Snowed in would be a more accurate term,” Tech replied simply before turning his attention back to his datapad. 
Wrecker groaned even louder before muttering about bad luck and being hungry and a multitude of other things. Tech simply shrugged, unbothered by this turn of events, and made his way into the cockpit. 
“Well, better get comfy then,” Hunter replied, frustration evident in his voice as he looked at the remaining members of the squad. 
Crosshair looked over at you with a frown as you suddenly stepped away from him. You’d managed to remove the top half of his armour, leaving it in a neat pile at his feet, and he was feeling much warmer than before but he’d been enjoying the feeling of your hands on him, perhaps a bit too much.  
His brow furrowed as he watched you grab your coat from where you had placed it on one of the jump seats earlier. There was a gleam in your eyes suddenly that he wasn’t quite sure he liked the look of. 
“What are you doing?” He asked gruffly as you pulled your coat back on. Both Hunter and Wrecker looked over at you questioningly as well as you zipped up your coat and wrapped your scarf around your neck. 
You smiled brightly at him before you pulled the scarf up over your nose, his heart flipped traitorously at the sight, just as it always did, “I’m just going to go grab something quick. I’ll be right back!”
“Did you miss the part where Tech said he’d freeze to death?” Crosshair hissed, narrowing his eyes at you. 
You rolled your eyes, much to his annoyance, “No, I heard. But that’s why I’m going to go right now, not later.”
“It’s freezing out and you can barely see anything!” Crosshair snapped as he stooped to pick up the armour you had removed. There was no way he was letting you go out there alone, “You’re going to get lost!”
“I am not and put that armour back down. I know exactly where I’m going. I’ll be less than five minutes!” You protested, pulling his chest plate back out of his hands and adding it back to the pile. 
Crosshair’s ire was rising by the moment, “You could freeze out there!” 
You quirked an eyebrow at him, before pulling up the hood of your jacket, leaving nothing but your eyes showing, “That would happen regardless if you’re there or not.”
Crosshair spluttered, anger coursing through him but before he could say anything else you patted him on the shoulder, “I’ll be fine Cross, unlike you I’m used to the cold, I grew up on a planet with a weather condition other than just rain. And if I’m not back in five minutes you can send out the search party for me.”
“If you’re not back in five minutes I’m just going to let you freeze,” Crosshair replied grumpily, even though it was a complete lie. If you weren’t back in 4 minutes and 30 seconds he was going to be out that door faster than a jump into hyperspace. 
“So rude,” You said with a laugh, you gripped both of his arms with your gloved hands, giving him a gentle squeeze, “It was nice knowing you then.” 
His scowl deepened as you pulled away, normally you were very logical and level-headed, which he admired that about you, so whatever idea that had come into your head that was making you think this was a good idea was completely out of the normal. 
“Wait,” He hissed softly before you could make more than a few steps toward the door. 
You paused looking up at him as he lifted his hands, pulling the scarf around your face just a little tighter and tugging it up to cover more of your face. It had slipped while you’d be talking and that was completely unacceptable. He wasn't about to let you freeze to death on his watch.
Your eyes were warm as you looked up at him for a quick moment before you hit the button to release the ramp of The Marauder.
“Five minutes!” You called back at him over your shoulder happily as you made your way down the ramp. 
He continued to scowl after you for a long moment, arms crossed over his chest unhappily as the door rose once more, sealing off the outside world. With an annoyed huff, he turned back towards his armour that needed to be stowed in his kit only to pause as he caught sight of his brothers. 
Wrecker was clearly pretending to be busy by moving an old equipment crate around while Hunter was just outright looking at Crosshair with an amused expression. 
“Shut up!” He hissed, picking up one of his vambraces and throwing it at his eldest brother who ducked away from it easily. 
“I didn’t say anything,” Hunter replied, his tone as amused as his expression before he disappeared into the cockpit to join Tech. Wrecker simply whistled casually in a very poor attempt to pretend he didn’t know what was going on. Crosshair frowned, cursing softly under his breath at your insistence to do something stupid and his own inability to keep his feelings in check as he bent down to retrieve the rest of his armour. At least you’d been right about one thing, he was much warmer without it on. 
Thankfully, you were true to your word and by the time he’d stored the rest of his gear away (4 minutes and 23 seconds to be exact) you’d returned to the ship, something bundled beneath a blanket under your arm, looking like you’d just single-handedly won the war. 
Curious about what you were up to, the rest of the squad re-appeared as the door to The Marauder hissed closed behind you. Your smile was so radiant as you pulled off your scarf that it made Crosshair’s stomach clench. Despite still being somewhat annoyed at your little side quest, he was unable to resist following after you as you headed towards where Gonky was currently plugged in placing whatever was in your arms on top of the sleeping droid. 
“Ta-da!” You announced happily, clapping your hands together in excitement as you revealed a small
tree. 
The Batch was quiet for a long moment while you simply bounced happily on your feet, looking between them all expectantly. 
“Why did you bring a tree on the ship?” Tech asked finally, breaking the silence. 
“It’s Life Day tomorrow!” You replied excitedly, “So, I figured if we’re going to be stuck here then we should celebrate. Make it a little more festive in here!” 
“Life day?” Hunter asked though it came out more of a statement than a question. 
You frowned suddenly and Crosshair instantly wanted to kick Hunter for ruining your enthusiasm, “You.. do know what life day is, right?” You asked, concern suddenly evident on your face.
Of course, they did, but only because they had once had to listen to Tech prattle on about it during a mission when they’d been stuck in hyperspace. Not because they actually celebrated it. There wasn’t much room in a clone's life for celebrations or holidays. 
“You mean the traditional Wookie holiday that has been perpetuated by large businesses to drive consumerism?” Tech asked without even looking up from his datapad, his tone completely matter-of-fact. 
Crosshair wasn’t able to stop the snort of amusement that left him at the look on your face at Tech’s comment. It was somewhere between outrage and resignation.
“Well, yes,” You replied with a grumble, though your grumpy tone was more endearing than threatening, “But it’s about more than that! It’s about spending time with your friends and family, the people you love and care about!” 
“And.. you require a holiday to do this?” Tech asked skeptically as he finally looked up from his datapad, his eyebrows were raised towards his hairline questioningly.  
Your frown deepened to an even more amusing level, “Well, no, we shouldn’t,” Your eyes narrowed slightly at Tech, “But that’s it, no more questions from Tech.” 
Crosshair snorted again as you clapped your hands together once more, brightening considerably, “Who wants to help me decorate?”
“Oh, me! Me!” Wrecker answered excitedly, rocketing up from where he’d been sitting in one of the jump seats and bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of you. Crosshair couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his over-the-top excitement. You, on the other hand, looked thrilled by his enthusiasm. 
“We don’t have any decorations.” Tech pointed out, “What will
”
“No more questions!” You cut him off in a sing-song voice before you grabbed Wrecker's large hands in your own and dragged him towards the back of the ship. Powerless, as he always was when it came to you, Crosshair followed along behind. Admittedly he was curious about what you’d be able to find that would count as a “decoration”. 
Within the hour they were all once again gathered around the Life Day tree, which now sported an assortment of random spare parts and a few extra headlamps as decorations while Hunter handed out their rations. 
Clearly taking their lack of Life Day experience as an opportunity to educate them, you’d started regaling them with some of your favourite Life Day stories. They all listened with wrapt attention, much more interested in your stories than Tech’s technical information about the holiday. Crosshair was unable to take his eyes off you, you were so beautiful, face lit up with excitement and laughter as you talked. There were a lot of moments, especially ones like these when you shone so brightly, that he still couldn’t quite believe that you’d chosen him, of all people. 
The hours melted away as you talked, his brothers joining in with their own stories, not specific to Life Day but the ones that had been passed on from clone to clone over the years, it was all they had to share but you listened and laughed right along with them. Crosshair remained quiet, simply basking in the warmth of the ship and enjoying the sight of the people he cared about most simply enjoying each other’s company. It was the most peaceful he’d felt in a very long time and he knew that was mostly because of you. You’d added so much to all of their lives, fitting into the squad as though you’d always belonged there.
Eventually, the stories slowed, and voices lowered before stopping altogether. Crosshair smirked as he watched your eyes begin to droop, your body slumping back in your chair as you curled further into the blanket that had once been wrapped around his shoulders. He’d been just about to jab you with his foot and order you off to bed when suddenly the sounds of Wrecker snoring rocked the ship, startling you awake once more. 
Hunter stood at the sound, casting an amused look at their brother who was fast asleep in his chair, “I’ll take first watch, get some rest.” He made his way back over to the cockpit before anyone could even think about objecting. Silently, Tech rose, giving them both a nod before he headed over towards one of the bunks and climbed up to the top. There were only three since one of them was usually on watch and there hadn’t been a need for more before you’d joined the squad.  Despite your protests, you’d been given the middle one permanently which had left the other two for them to rotate through. 
Crosshair’s eyes followed you as you rose, pulling the blanket closer around you as you made your way over to him. He reached out to gently grasp your hip through the blanket, closing the distance between the two of you with a soft tug.
You smiled softly before you bent over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, making his skin burn, “Goodnight, Cross,” You said quietly, squeezing his shoulder gently before making your way over to your bunk. Unfortunately, you only slept together when you weren’t aboard The Marauder and surrounded by his brothers. 
With a sigh, Crosshair stood and kicked the chair Wrecker had been sleeping in, jolting him awake. He, fortunately, had the ability to fall asleep anywhere and not suffer any consequences. Wrecker on the other hand would be sore if he slept all night in a chair and then they would never hear the end of it the next day. 
“Go to bed,” Crosshair ordered sternly.
Wrecker grumbled something incoherent as he stood, still half asleep but somehow he managed to stumble his way over to the bunks. Crosshair watched with amusement as he collapsed in a heap, snoring once more the moment his head hit his thin regulation pillow. 
Crosshair was about to return to his chair to get some sleep of his own when he paused, his eyes straying over to where you were now curled up in your bunk. As usual, his heart picked up a notch as he looked at you. At that moment there was absolutely nowhere he wanted to be more than in that bed with you. He suddenly wasn’t sure why he bothered pretending like he wasn’t as crazy about you as he was. 
You let out a surprised squeak, eyes popping open and he climbed into the bunk, shouldering you over and tugging at the blanket until he was between you and the wall. He pulled you in close, the lines of your body matching up perfectly with his own before he pulled the blanket back up over the both of you. 
“What is this? You asked, tone amused but you snuggled closer into him nonetheless. You moved your hands to rest over top of his own where they were wrapped around your stomach, holding you close.  
“For warmth,” Crosshair replied dryly. 
“Ah yes, of course,” You let out a soft laugh, “Practical as always.” 
He snorted, tucking his chin against your shoulder and closing his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t been all that tired but the warmth you were giving off was very quickly changing that. 
“Does your Life Day celebration usually involve rations?” Crosshair asked quietly, despite how ridiculous he’d found the whole thing at first he found himself growing curious about the holiday. Mostly because he wanted to know more about your life and the things you felt were important. 
You let out a soft snort of laughter, “Well no, but it’s the people that matter most, Cross.” 
“Hmm..” he replied, skeptical. 
“It is!” you cried, indignantly, turning your head slightly so you could look at him out of your peripheral vision, pinching his hand lightly in response. 
“If you say so,” He drawled. 
You laughed softly again, shaking your head before you turned around to face him. In this position, your faces were only inches apart and he had to try very hard not to kiss you. 
“I will say that the rations were a first. My mum always goes a little crazy, she loves life day. There’s always so much food. It’s hard to even move after because you're always so full. Hopefully, we’ll be able to go next year.” 
Crosshair’s entire body seized at your casual comment. Thinking of the future wasn’t something he ever allowed himself to do. He didn’t see the point of getting his hopes up. A future, a family, that wasn’t something he had ever thought he could have. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out with future talk,” You said softly, trying your best to meet his averted gaze. You’d caught onto his avoidance of the future much quicker than he would have liked. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, you’d always had the ability to see him in a way no one else ever could. 
“You didn’t
” He started gruffly, but he wasn’t sure what else to say. You’d read him so easily and that still unnerved him at times.
More than just avoiding getting his hopes up by not thinking about the future, there was a part of him, an admittedly large part that was constantly worried that one day you would realize that you could do so much better than him. He was just a clone, a defective one at that, and he had nothing to offer you. Not even time was on his side. 
“Cross,” You started softly, one hand reaching up to cup his jaw, gentle touch forcing his chin down so that your eyes could meet. Your gaze was so warm that it made his heart clench, “You know I love you, right?” You continued, as though you could hear his very thoughts.
It wasn’t the first time you’d said it but the overwhelming feelings that filled him each time you did never changed. He’d never been a man of many words so he showed you just how much you meant to him in one of the few ways he knew how. 
You let out another soft sound of surprise as he pressed his lips to your own, pulling you so close that it became difficult to tell where one of you ended and the other began. When the two of you were like this, the future didn’t seem that intimidating and it was easier to forget about all the doubts that seemed to constantly haunt him. There was just the two of you, as you were meant to be. 
He nipped gently at your lower lip once before pulling back slightly, resting his forehead against your own before closing his eyes. You let out a soft sigh as your hand slid down from his jaw to rest over his heart, bunching gently in the fabric of his blacks. 
“Next Life Day we’re getting a bigger tree,” Crosshair said after a long, quiet moment. 
You laughed softly, body shaking slightly in his arms, “Of course, Cross. Anything for you.” 
He grunted happily in response, eyes growing heavier as sleep began to take over. 
“Happy first Life Day, Crosshair,” You whispered, just before he drifted off to sleep. Warm, content, and most of all, happy. 
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