#actual header to come later probably

[writercole]

Dream Lover

Summary: When a chase goes wrong, Tyler finds himself in a precarious situation. Words: 1300ish Warnings: Discussion of trauma, loss of consciousness, angsty Challenge: @alphabetquest - A: Angst A/N: I had started this originally as a Jake piece and never finished it. When I found it again, Tyler said "Oh, I like it here. This is mine now." And all I could do was rewrite it for him.

Tyler cracked his eyes open when he heard giggles near his feet. Two children, a boy and a girl, crept towards him, shushing each other as they walked. He squeezed his eyes shut and struggled to suppress the grin trying to curl his lips.

“Daddy, wake up!” two little voices shouted as they pounced on him, poking at his cheeks and prying his eyelids open.

He caught a glimpse of a woman leaning against the door frame with a soft smile and his heart skipped a beat. The young girl blocked his view of her and he looked up at the kids, giving them a sly grin and wink before closing his eyes again.

The kids slid off of him and whined, “Mommy! Daddy won’t wake up!”

“Daddy is probably very tired. He had a long drive home yesterday.”

“Momma,” the little boy begged, “help us wake him up.”

She sighed and Tyler heard her bare feet crossing the floor along with the stifled giggles from the children. Once she was within his range, he reached out quickly, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her on top of him with a shriek.

The delighted children squealed and laughed, clapping as Tyler reached up to kiss their mom.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach when their lips met and his eyes fluttered shut with a contented sigh.

She pulled away too soon for Tyler’s liking, a wide smile lighting up her face when he opened his eyes again. “I made pancakes,” she whispered.

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Kids, let’s let Daddy get up and he’ll meet us downstairs for breakfast.” With one final kiss, the woman and children left Tyler. He couldn’t explain how everything felt so right and yet so wrong all at once. The room he woke in calmed him, but he didn’t remember ever being in it.

The woman - his wife if the solid gold band on his left hand was to be trusted - her beauty stirred something within him but he didn’t recognize her, didn’t know her name.

He looked up from his musings to find himself in a breakfast nook, the little family motioning for him to join them. The window behind them grew brighter, a blinding light assaulting his face and prompting him to raise his arms to shield his eyes.

“Tyler?” the woman called. Her voice sounded far away, almost like she were at the other end of a long tunnel.

“Tyler!”

How was he hearing Boone’s voice?

“Tyler, eyes open, man.”

Eyes open?

“Tyler, come have breakfast with us.”

The edges of his vision started to fade out. Pain crept in to take its place. The world around him went black for just a second before his eyes opened to Boone’s concerned face hovering over him.

“Oh, thank god, Tyler,” Boone sighed. Relief slumped his shoulders as he sat back on his heels.

“What happened?” Tyler tried to sit up, only to collapse back on the ground due to the intense dizziness and searing ache in his head. 

“Well, you went head first into an EF3 to grab someone from a car. You got her out and safe but you got hit with some debris.”

“Oh.”

“Wait, is that all - don’t you close your eyes on me, Tyler Owens!”

“Boone, my head is throbbing and, no offense, but the back of my dark eyelids is a better sight right now.”

“Okay. Well. Um. I’ll find a nurse or something.”

Tyler felt Boone’s presence wander off and he started to rack his memory to find the last thing he remembered. He knew what town he was in, what month it was. He knew that Javi had jumped ship to the Wranglers and that Kate had gone back to New York a week earlier.

He didn’t know what his last meal was or what time it was, though judging by the rays of sunlight struggling to break through the clouds, it was mid to late afternoon. 

He could feel all of his extremities, it didn’t hurt to breathe. He was confident that nothing was significantly broken despite the ache he felt from head to toe.

He knew his team, he knew his truck. 

He had no idea who the woman in his dream was.

Boone’s voice started getting closer, talking with another male voice. “He was conscious when I went to find you.”

“I’m still conscious, Boone. My head hurts.”

“Anything else hurt?”

“Everything aches. Feels like I whacked my shoulder really well.”

“I’m going to start checking some of these spots. Can you move your legs? Toes?”

Shit, he hadn’t considered that. A quick twist and wiggle satisfied both of them. Tyler winced every time the other person, an EMT according to Boone, would move his head or neck.

“You need to go to the ER,” the EMT concluded.

“I’ll be fine,” Tyler countered.

“You were unconscious for like, five minutes, dude.”

Fucking Boone.

“Loss of consciousness needs to be evaluated.”

“You just evaluated me.”

“You need actual testing, not just a field assessment. You know, CT, MRI, X-Ray. Can’t do that out here.”

“What he’s saying, Owens, is don’t be a dick,” Boone retorted, the smile on his face evident despite Tyler’s eyes still being shut.

“Fine, whatever,” he sighed heavily.

“I’ll get a backboard and we’ll get you moved. Stay still until we get you to the hospital.”

Tyler agreed with another sigh, cracking his eyes open to find Boone trying to move his phone around, presumably trying to get a signal. “Where’s the rest of the crew?”

“Everyone’s good. They’re all helping to pull survivors out, find dogs, all of that. Dani and Lily are passing out food and water.” 

“You should be helping them.”

“No, I should be here trying to keep your ass from going anywhere,” he snarked. “And don’t try to talk me out of it. We’ve already decided.”

“Sure, Boone.” Tyler settled back and closed his eyes again, trying to relax until he was taken to the hospital.

After extensive testing, it was determined that he had a concussion and would need to be admitted overnight for observation. Despite his best protests, Boone stuck around, settling into the small chair at the foot of Tyler’s bed to ride out the evening.

“Hey, Boone,” Tyler called after a few hours, “do you know anything about concussions?”

“I’ve had my fair share, yeah.”

“Would they cause you to dream about people you don’t know?”

“Usually your dreams can’t create people but they can pull from your subconscious memory and get faces you haven’t actually interacted with. Why?”

Tyler launched into a brief description of his dream, including the woman he created.

“I don’t know anyone that fits that description but, hey, maybe you met people I didn’t,” Boone shrugged.

Tyler hummed in response and settled back against the pillows again, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor soothing his exhausted brain until a knock sounded at the door. He turned to face the small crack just as a head poked in - her head.

“Um, Tyler?” she asked.

“That’s me.” Her voice was exactly as he’d dreamed, her hair the same color, her eyes the same shape. He looked down at Boone, shock and disbelief etched on the other man’s face.

“I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Oh, no, not intruding at all,” Boone insisted as he stood. “What can we help you with?”

She stepped closer to the pair of them and Tyler was once again struck by the resemblance of the woman to the girl of his literal dream. She twisted her hands together and her eyes darted back and forth between Boone and Tyler. “I, um,” she started, clearing her throat before continuing, “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For pulling me out of the car. You saved me.”

[fingertipsmp3]

This thing I've just coded for my assignment is genuinely dogshit but I think I kind of have to just submit it 🫠

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

The Suit Stays On~Miguel O'Hara x Reader smut~

Inspired by this post

Being in a relationship with Spiderman was the best thing that ever happened to you. Only thing was you had to keep it to yourself. But you wanted to talk with someone about it. One thing led to another and here you were scrolling on tumblr reading smut fic after smut fic of your man. You had to admit, it was pretty sexy. The writers didn't know his name or yours, of course. But reading about Spiderman picking up "Y/N" with his super strong arms and taking her against the closest wall or webbing her up and having his way with her, leaving the suit on during sex, all had you wet and craving something you never thought to ask Miguel for in the bedroom: Spiderman roleplay.

You'd been so obsessed with the fanfictions, you'd turned on notifications for your favorite authors and for the "Spiderman x reader" tag. You were watching Miguel on the tv as the news covered him taking on the bad guy of the week. Some anomaly refusing to go back to their own dimension. Miguel handled it quickly as usual and less than an hour later he was in your apartment, showering while you were in the kitchen. As he got out, he could hear your phone buzzing on the bed. It was going off repeatedly. Normally he would just ignore it, probably emails from work or something, but this was constant. Every few minutes your phone would go off. Rolling his eyes, he sighed heavily and strolled over to the bed. He grabbed your phone and unlocked it to mute your notifications, when he noticed the "t" icon at the top of your phone. Multiple t's began to appear as the tag updated with more fics. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled down the header to see what was so important. His eyes widened as he saw the first notification, "Spiderman NSFW headcannons". "What the hell is a headcannon?" He murmured to himself, unable to stop himself from pressing it.

Your phone opened your tumblr app to the Spiderman tag and Miguel was bombarded with pictures of himself (well, Spiderman) drawn in some interesting ways, as well as hundreds of stories about him. Fanfictions about Spiderman saving a girl then having sex with her, Spiderman with a Villain!Reader, Spiderman getting kinky with the webbing. It went on and on. Miguel was shocked by how many people fantasized about Spiderman. He actually thought he was rather unpopular. Is this what you were into? Why hadn't you come to him with your fantasy? He'd be more than happy to indulge you in some roleplay. And what was better than having the actual Spiderman there for your fantasy? He swiped over to your profile and found your "Likes" sections. He quickly read through the top few stories, ideas buzzing through his head.

"Miguel! Your food is ready!" You called, your voice snapping him out of his focus on your phone. He was hungry but the idea of you being aroused by his alter ego created a different kind of hunger in him. He wanted to take you in all kinds of ways. He needed to see you beg for him in his spidersuit. He needed to do this right.

With a couple taps on his watch Miguel's suit digitally reappeared on his body. He extended his talons and jumped up, hooking himself to the ceiling, and headed towards the kitchen. Your apartment was nice enough to have a higher ceiling so he could sneak above you without you noticing. He was used to creeping up on bad guys like this but it felt different doing it to you. Like you were unsuspecting prey just for him, the strong predator, to pounce on and devour. You were just below him now, completely unaware of your surroundings because of your earbuds. He watched you for a moment as your served up plates for the two of you, humming softly and swinging your hips to the music playing in your ears. He held back a moan as he watched your ass sway side to side in those shorts. He could feel the predator instinct in him kick into a higher gear and his fangs began to extend on their own, his mouth watering at the thought of webbing you up and taking you right here on the ceiling.

He shook his head, clearing his mind. He'd have plenty of time for that. He didn't want to rush this. He descended slowly on a web behind you, his head level with the back of yours as he hung upside down. You pulled out one of your earbuds to call for him again. "Migue-AAH!" You screamed as your turned and came face to face with the red and blue mask, eyes staring intently at you through it. "Jesus! What the hell are you doing?!" You shouted, clutching your chest. Miguel laughed. "Is that how you talk to the guy that just rescued you, hermosa?" You looked at him, confused. "Huh?" "What happened to 'thank you'? I even saved your cellphone...lots of interesting notifications you have on there, hermosa." Miguel replied, waving your cellphone in front of you. The eyes on his masked shifted into a knowing look and your own widened as you realized what he meant. Your face heated up in embarrassment but Miguel being on board for the roleplay, initiating it even, had you so wet and you weren't about to pass this up.

"Th-thank you, Spiderman, for saving me. How can I ever repay you?" He beckoned you forward with his finger. "How about a kiss?" He suggested. Biting your lip, you slowly ran your hands up to the base of his mask and peeled it slowly down his face, stopping just on the bridge of his nose. You gently pressed your lips to his and hummed dreamily against him. Miguel let out a low groan as you sucked on his bottom lip. Your thumb brushed his cheek as you held his face and Miguel could feel his resolve to take his time wavering. You pulled away from him much sooner than he would've liked but it was all part of the character you were playing. The shy, naive girl flustered from being saved by her superhero crush.

You stepped back after pulling his mask back over his face, shyly rubbing your arm and avoiding his gaze. He flipped down from his web, towering over you as he stood to his full height. "I don't think you're done repaying me yet, princesa." He murmured. "W-what else do you want?" You asked, anticipation buzzing through you. He tilted his head to one side as if examining you. "I have a few ideas".

~~~~~~

You had no idea that when you started this, you'd be laying strapped in a giant web on the corner of your living room ceiling, your clothes torn and dangling below you, while Miguel crawled menacingly towards your dripping pussy. "You look so beautiful like this, hermosa. I think I should keep you like this for a while. That way I can keep you safe. You wouldn't want to run into anymore danger, would you?" Your response was cut off with a moan as Miguel licked a long stripe up your pussy. You cried out and tugged against your restraints as his tongue flicked up and down your clit. His strong hands held your legs open and his lips wrapped around your clit making your head spin from the pleasure. Pulling away with a sucking pop, he smirked at you, his sharp fangs visible in his grin. "Answer me, muñeca." He demanded, his deep voice rumbling in your ear, making you clench around nothing.

"N-no Spiderman...I-I don't want to get into trouble again." Miguel hummed in approval and began to rub your clit in slow circles. "You need me to protect you, don't you, baby? You're just too sweet to be wandering the streets alone. It's not safe." Biting your lip to stifle your moans, you nodded quickly. Miguel's fingers worked skillfully over you, dipping inside you a few times before returning to your clit and then back again. "Tell me you need me to keep you safe, baby. I wanna hear you." Miguel growled. "Y-yes! Oh f-fuck yes! Please Spiderman..I-I need you. N-need you to keep me -ah! s-safe. Oh fuck please Spiderman...need you so bad!" You whined, Miguel's fingers speeding up inside you.

"You're so pretty when you beg, hermosa. You'll let me fuck you like this, won't you? Dirty girl..letting your hero take you any way I want. So fucking naughty.."

Miguel climbed on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He retracted just enough of his suit to free his large, hard cock. Stroking it a couple times, he looked down at you, his mask returning to cover the rest of his face. "Estás lista, cariño?" You nodded again, too aroused to answer respond. Miguel gripped your hips in his large hands and pushed into you slowly. The room was filled with loud moaning from the two of you. Miguel leaned down next to your ear. "I'm not going to be gentle, princesa." He warned. You whimpered and bucked your hips up into his. "Please fuck me, Spiderman. I want you inside me!" You whined.

Miguel began to set a brutal pace. The sound of his hips snapping against yours filled the room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hands clenched at the web restraining you, your fingers aching from how tight you were squeezing. His head fell down onto your shoulder, his panting and groaning filled your ears. "Oh fuuuuck yes! You feel so fucking good!" You moaned, clenching around Miguel tightly. "You're gonna make me -fuck...cum if you keep talking like that, baby." He groaned. "Please cum inside me, Spiderman. Fill me up...I wanna feel it dripping out of me!" You begged. Miguel choked out a moan and gripped your hips tightly. The web shook as Miguel slammed into you over and over again.

"Want me to fill you up, bebita? Want me to put a baby in you?"

"Oh my god please, Spiderman. Give it to me! I want it so bad!" You screamed, your orgasm hitting you suddenly, soaking Miguel's cock. His orgasm followed not too far behind. You were certain bruises were forming on your hips from how hard he was squeezing you as he came. His hot seed spilled inside you, coating your insides. Miguel rocked his hips against you as he came down from his orgasm. The two of you were breathing heavily and Miguel collapsed beside you, digitally removing his mask from his face. He leaned over and pressed kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

"Was that okay, mi vida?" He asked, his previous cockiness lost when he dropped character and replaced with a bit of nervousness that he didn't live up to the online fantasies.

You hummed happily and once he released your hands, moved over to rest your head on his chest. "Definitely more than okay. That was amazing." You sighed. Miguel smiled to himself and kissed the top of your head. "I didn't mean to go through your tumblr. Your phone kept going off and I guess curiosity got to me. Why didn't you tell me you had a thing for me in my Spidersuit?" "I didn't want you to think it was weird I guess. Or that I only loved you cause you're a superhero. I loved Miguel before I loved Spiderman. The suit just adds to the sexiness." You replied. Miguel laughed loudly and pulled you closer. "Gracias, hermosa. I'll make sure the news cameras get my good angles next time they're covering me fighting someone." You rolled your eyes playfully and kissed him.

"And don't worry I've got way more ideas for us to try, Spiderman."

[hee0soo]

Children of the Sea

Pairing — KimHongjoongxafab!Reader

Summary — Living in a small town where everyone knew eachother, visitors were quickly recognized and sometimes freedom loving young women were especially drawn to said visitors... or maybe just their captain...

Genre — fluff, angst, smut, Pirate AU

Warnings — oral, fingering, penetrative sex , death, alcoholism, death by burning, death in childbirth

Word Count — 13.3k

Rating — nsfw

A/n: Thank you @caelesjjk for the wonderful header! <33

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

"To be free means to be independent, not to be influenced by what others think or say!"

Those words were ringing in your ears as you stared over the edge of the cliff and down into the dark water that came crashing into the rocky surface of the stone in giant waves. Sat up there, you could almost make yourself believe that your life was good! That it was how you wanted it do be! But it wasn't. Far from it actually!

You were no fool. You knew that other girls your age were long married of to the richest suitor, waiting to bare their children and become the perfect little housewife! The thought alone send shivers down your spine. Remembering what it had done to your own mother, how she had withered away during those months she had carried your little brother in her womb only to tragically bleed out on while giving birth made your fingers dig into the soil and grass you sat on!

There were still moments where you thought you could hear her screams of said summer day echo through the night, making you miss her so much more. The nightmares her desperate screams had cause little 9 year old you had followed you for ages and the way it had suddenly been silent in your little cottage still haunted you to this day...

Years later is where you found yourself still mourning her soothing touch as she ran her gentle hand over your face when you had woken up from a bad dream as a child. You mourned the songs she had sang to you that you would never be able to hear again and how your little brother would never hear it at all...

Jungwon was the definition of soft, sunny and innocent, the carbon copy of who your mother had been as a person! Something your father had come to despise more and more the older the boy became. The man hated his sons soft nature, trying to make the perfect man out of the 11 year old but seemingly failing at it! Much to distracted to care for the disappointment of a daughter he had, the old man spend his days screaming, drinking and barely keeping the family Inn out of debts. The fact that it was you who kept things truly running, went ignored. Not that you cared anyways.

Enjoying the breeze of cold sea wind tugging at your face and the fabric of your skirts, you let out a long exhausted breath. The sun, drowning the scenery in a orange glowing hue was setting already and it was time to return home.

You got up, grass stains visible on your dress, looking back at the sea wondering what else could be out there for you. Probably nothing, but you liked to imagine that there was something else waiting for you out there then the sheltered and lonely life you had here. Your eyes focused on the ship sailing towards land and you couldn't help but stare for a moment longer. There was something about it that captured your interest!

Shaking yourself out of the trance you were in you quickly ran back to the village. It was almost time for dinner and you were not planning to let Jungwon go to bed on an empty stomach. That you were going to work all night without any food for yourself went ignored. You were used to it at this point and your brother needed it more, he was a growing boy after all.

Jungwons face visibly brightened at the sight of you appearing in your kitchen. His shaggy brown hair artfully braided back to prevent it from falling into his eyes and the big smile tugged at your heart. You couldn't help but brush your fingers over the side of his face as you past him and got ready to serve the admittedly sparse dinner of bread, cheese and a little meat to the 2 men of the family. The grim look on the old mans face didn't bothered you in the slightest. The smell of alcohol on him however did! It meant that he was already drunk and that you would probably have to work until the early morning hours again without him showing up to help out!

"An where wee you again?" the man hollowed, speech already slurred which told you all you needed to know.

"Helping Madame Delacroix with the new delivery of fruits. She promised to bring some over tomorrow." you said sounding utterly unimpressed by the tone of his voice. It wasn't a lie! Before you had wandered of and watched the sunset, you had helped the older woman you called your neighbor. And you didn't plan on telling where else you had been. Instead you winked at your little brother who had to hide a giggle as he took a bite from the slice of bread you had put in front of him.

 Your father huffed annoyed, looking at the food with disgust. Long used to the complaints of the bread being to dry or the meat being tasteless you busied yourself with listening to Jungwon telling you about his day instead. The happiness that radiated from him was almost contagious.

"Will you read me a bed time story later?" the boy wanted to know and promptly pouted when you shook your head.

"Why nooot?" he whined.

"I'm sorry Wonnie, but I'll be at the Inn already when you go to bed later."

It was evident that the child didn't like that but he accepted defeat quickly, knowing that arguing would get him nowhere.  "Ah don be such a wuss boy! Your sistr shouln be coddling ya so much, you weak nough already..."

Could looks kill, your father would have fallen out of his seat right then and there! Not that he wasn't close to falling of it anyway.

"Ignore him!" you mouthed at him and received a nod in return.

Soon the food was gone and without a word your father staggered out of the kitchen, almost falling over in the process. Where to you didn't know and you didn't want to.

"Will you be okay alone? You know that you have to lock the doors and to-"

"To come to the Inn and stay with you if there's something wrong? Yes I know sister, don't worry I'm a strong boy with a dagger!"

Of course he knew the rules, you had made sure of that early on. It wasn't safe, by far not but with the way things were you didn't have another choice and you had to trust that nothing would happen.

Taking a step towards Jungwon, brushed your hand over his head and placed a kiss on his temple. "Someday things will be different l promise!"

"I know and now go! I will be fine and father is here too."

That wasn't as reassuring to you as he thought but you nodded, a pained smile grazed your lips as you left. Your stomach was growling and you hoped that you could snag a bowl of stir-fry from the Inn kitchen later on.

The way wasn't far and you were the first one there to open the establishment. Soon 3 coworkers would arrive to cover their shifts for the night but as the daughter of the boss that never showed his face, you took on that role.

The candles were already lit up when the first one arrived. Yoongi, your head chef , could be compared with a grumpy cat! Ready to strike at any given moment but still lovable and in need of some head scratches.

And then there was Hyunjin, flirty and always ready for a chat. Oh and always ready to either punch or kiss Jisung, the man who came in only to bother the waiter you called your best friend. You were sure that the two were somehow involved with each other but both firmly denied that.

He waved shortly and helped you sweep the floor once more before you opened  and then vanished in the back. Hyunjin liked the dramatics of always being falling through the door just minutes before you turned the Closed-sign around to show Open instead and so, like always he flew in right when you wanted to turn the sign around. He apologized hurriedly and promised to never let that happen again. It caused Yoongi to laugh loudly from the back. As if. The dark mark sucked into the skin of his throat almost glowing!

The evening went and the night began and with it customers started pouring in. You knew most of them, it was a small down after all and nothing out of the ordinary happened.

It was the usual. Men came into get drunk or have their fun with the ladies searching for a good time and strip those idiots of their money, as long as there was no drama you didn't care or the occasional traveler searching for a room to sleep in and a warm meal. Nothing out of the Ordinary until the door opened and in came 4 men that were complete strangers to you. One glance to Hyunjin told you that he too was clueless to who they were. They looked like trouble as they sat down at the bar where you were making sure that drinks were being filled so Hyunjin could quickly deliver them to the tables.

Thankfully they kept to themselves for the most part. The shrieking laugh from one of them however could clearly be heard in the entire Inn! You would lie if you said that the first time didn't surprise you so much that you almost dropped the jug of beer you were filling causing Hyunjin to almost drop to the floor laughing. Quickly whacking him with a towel you made sure he knew how displeased you were and you hoped they hadn't noticed your little moment.

"What can I get you gentlemen?" Leaning against bar counter you looked at them expectantly.

Four pairs of dark brown eyes found your e/c ones with various degrees of surprise or interest.

The loud one was sitting there, wide-eyed and open mouth as if he had just wanted to say something. His black hair framed his face beautifully, not a piece out of line.

The tallest one—with honey-blonde hair sticking up wildly—had his head propped up on his ring-clad fingers. His white shirt was only halfway buttoned up, exposing the entirety of his very toned chest.

Next to him was another black haired one with mesmerizingly soft features that reminded you of your mother; and last, but not least, the one that glared at you, very unimpressed.

His silver hair was short at the sides and long on top, tied back with chains of black, white, and what seemed to be a gold chain. His ears were adorned with multiple earrings and a face reminding you of the fairies in old tales…

"Uhm, 3 beers and 1 whiskey please?" the tall one said, sounding unexpectedly shy even with his deep voice and you turned to look at him instead of staring at his fairy friend.

"Sure. Want anything else? Maybe some food?"

3 of them shook their heads while their friend was still not taking his eyes off of you.

"Here you go! Tell me if you need anything else!" You put the filled jugs and the glass down in front of them. "Thank you darlin."

Surprised by the higher pitched voice of the glaring stranger, your eyes found his again. It fit him well. You had to admit that he was handsome and definitely your type as he swirled the whiskey around in his glass with a calmness you envied him for.

You bit your lip, quickly turning away to get away from the situation.

A little further, old Jinyoung was hitting the bar like he tried to catch flies to get your attention. You rolled your eyes. The man was a regular and regularly he drank himself under the table, tumbling out of the Inn almost blackout drunk only to come back the next day and repeat it all over again. That’s how it had been ever since you were old enough to work for your father. He was nice, at least when he got what he wanted, but also very loud and had the tendency to flirt with everything that had legs.

"Aye girl, don ya look lovely today. How bout ya give an old man like me nother refill?" Jinyoung slurred, followed by a burp that had you grimacing at the smell.

"Don't you think you had enough already? I'm sure your wife is waiting for you." With furrowed brows he waved you off. "Don kid yaself girl!"

Hyunjin caught your eyes from across the room, balancing a tray of empty bowls and jugs as he made his way into the kitchen to rinse them clean. The waiter had never been a fan of the drunk man who continued rambling about the hardships of his life and marriage and tried to stay seated upright.

"Just throw him out. Man is wasted enough as it is and probably won't remember tonight at this point. Not like that's anything new..." he suggested in passing. Not bothering to answer him, instead you watched the old man eventually do tip over only to be caught be the loud shrieking stranger.

Huffing, you thought about it. Maybe your friend was right and you should send him on his way to sober up. A shudder ran down your spine at the thought of possibly provoking an argument.

"Ahh, Jinyoung-ssi, I think you had enough for tonight... Maybe come back tomorrow but I think you should go home and sleep a little."

A deep frown fell upon the mans face after the words had registered in his foggy brain.

"Thas not on ya to descide foolish girl!" he snapped, words barely audible at this point. "N' now gimme 'nother!"

Customers were turning their heads to see what the commotion was about, only to turn back to their own tables when they recognized who the cause of it was they were all used to the antics of the drunkard. The side eye he received from the four men beside him almost made you snort.

"I don't think so. Please leave my Inn and sober up."

Reaching for the jug, you planned to take it from him. Although horribly intoxicated, his reflex in grabbing onto your arm was still sharp and a dull pain made itself known.

"Let my arm go, now!" you hissed lowly, eyes focused on his hand tightly holding onto your wrist.

Not reacting to your demand, his grip only got tighter. The pain only getting stronger. You winced.

"Let go!"

Jinyoung growled,  sounding much like a wild animal at the moment.

"I think the Lady told ya to let go of her just now…”

Shocked by the sudden help, your head whirled around to where the silver haired man was taking a sip of his glass, effectively emptying it in the process and slamming onto the counter. The noise left the man still holding onto you startled, giving you the chance to try and twist yourself out of his hold!

Glaring at the much younger man Jinyoung snarled, "Non of ya business!" only to turn back to you.

"Now about tha beer girl-"

 The sound of a blade hitting the wooden surface of your bar cut him off. The silver haired stranger twisted a dagger between his fingers, reflecting the light of the candles brightly. The unspoken threat hanging in the air loud and clear.

"Captain!" his deep voiced companion warning quietly, receiving a blow to the side from the black haireds elbow.

“Ya gonna let her go now?"

The pressure on your arm went away but you could still feel his fingers lingering on it. Teeth bared, the man pulled out o few coins clumsily, dropped them on the counter. Stumbling out the door. while curses escaped him on the way out.

Turning back to them, you watched the stranger put his dagger aside. Eyes catching his, you nodded in acknowledgment to thank him. For a split second you thought you could see the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Giving you the slightest hint of a smile!

Things calmed down again. Only your nerves were still a little unsettled, making you inhale to calm yourself.

It was already early in the morning and people slowly started to leave until everyone safe for you, Hyunjin and Yoongi were left to clean up. The first rays of the morning sun illuminated the Inn already when you were finally able to closeup and say goodbye to the two men.

Tired and ready to fall into bed until you had to get up again, you went straight past your snoring father who had passed out on the stairs it seemed, checked on Jungwon one last time before you your door behind you.

Sleep however didn't come easy, even with the blanket pulled up to your nose. The fabric felt unusual scratchy on your skin.

Your thoughts began to wander as you turned and twisted to find a position comfortable enough to let you fall asleep. They went back to the whiskey drinking captain. For the rest of the night you had felt him watching your every move up until they left again. It had left you more flustered then you would like to admit!

His piercing stare seemed to haunt you even now! You would be lying if you said you weren't intrigued as well. But now it was to late. The handsome stranger was gone and the chance of running into him again was close to none...

---------

 3 Days later you were on the way to buy some much needed food at the market down at the docks! The fisher boats were out at sea at this time of day so there weren’t that many ships there today, safe for one you had never seen before.

It looked familiar in a way and although you couldn’t pinpoint where you had seen it before, you felt an energy radiating off of it that mesmerized you!

Even early in the morning, the streets were already filled with people who -just like you- were running errands. Buzzing with life that forced you to navigate through the crowd,  empty  pressed closely to your front to prevent sneaky hands from stealing from right under your nose.

"How are you dear one? How is little Jungwon doing today?" Taeyeon, the bakers wife asked excided to see you. Stroking her swollen stomach ever so gently with her hand, she handed a still warm Loaf of bread to you.

"We are doing ok, thank you for asking! How's the baby doing in there? Still keeping you awake?" The older woman took the offered coins, nodding at your question.

"They sure do! I just hope they won't do the same once they're born..."

Knowing full well that she would probably get even less sleep then now soon, Taeyeon laughed.

You weren't one to indulge in the business of others, not if you could avoid it at least. But something about the bakers wife just warmed your heart. You couldn't help but admire her! She was one of the few women who did not let anyone decide for her! Someone who was smart, confident and very vocal about the unfair treatment women got from most men! Her marriage wasn't arranged, she had refused that early on and fought tooth and nails when her parents had suggested that as a young girl!

That was what you wanted too!

"And concerning your order for the Inn, it will be ready for you to pickup later today. Or do you need my husband to deliver it?"

You shook your head. No Yoongi already volunteered to pick it up the day prior on his way to work, meaning there was no need to cause any more work for them. "Okay, just tell us if you need anything else!"

The woman hurried to tend to the next customer leaving you to continue your own shopping. Still having to get some fresh milk, fish and herbs, you turned on your heel and ran straight into the firm chest of the man standing behind you.

Almost dropping the bread, your hand flew up to rest over your racing heart. His own holding onto your elbows to avoid you hitting the ground.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, I wasn't watch -" You stopped in your tracks, recognizing the man who had threatened Jinyoung just a few days ago.

"Ya okay, nothing happened."  He rasped, looking just as handsome as a few nights ago, voice sending a pleasant shudder over your skin. His eyes lit up, clearly recognizing you.

Ignoring the annoyed complaints from around you because you just stood there without any implication of moving along. Your could feel your heart racing underneath where your palm rested still. Now that you stood right in front of him and there was no counter separating you from him for entirely different reasons then just surprise! He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt and his breath his your face, making you heat up rapidly as his focus trailed from your eyes to your mouth, down to the low cut neckline where he caught a glimpse of your cleavage and backup. Your cheeks were burning! 

It took a moment for you to come back to reality. The reality that you were pressed right against a total stranger! You! An unmarried women! It was enough to take a step back and his hold loosened.

For the first time his face relaxed and a friendly yet dangerous smile crossed his face.

"Ya the owner of the Inn right?" he mused.

"The owners daughter actually! You really helped me out a few days ago, thank you again for that…”

Moving along you thanked him hoping that you weren't embarrassing yourself right now.

He waved it of nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. "Ah it was nothin. Some just don't know when to stop drinkin!

 Reaching the farmers stand you pointed at a small wheel of cheese which you paid for and continued on your way. Stranger still walking  along to the next stand.

"It seemed like ya were used to it already," he stated and you shrugged. He was right after all and there was no point denying it.

"Well kind off. Jinyoung comes in every night so yes, you could say I'm used to it."

Displeasure flew across his face. "And your father let's him back in? With the way he acts around his daughter?"

Shrugging you stepped around a goat that ran through the crowd. "He'd have to stop drinking himself to notice that."

Why you told him all that you had no idea! He was a stranger who's name you didn't even know, and here you were talking about things that had no business being talked about with him!

You could feel his piercing gaze on you but ignored it. There was nothing you could say either way.

With full arms you took the herbs you needed from the apothecary, trying to juggle every without dropping it when the bread was suddenly taken from you.

"Here let me help you!"

„Thank you…“

„Ya can call me captain.“ Snorting you gave him aside glance. „Yeah, I’m not gonna do that!“

„Well then how about Hongjoong?“

You gave him an amused smile. " Nice to meet you Hongjoong, I'm y/n! L/N y/n!"

Together you walked, talking and teasing like you have never done so before until you came to a halt. Hongjoong recognized the ally where the Inn was, but was surprised to see that you led him to the back entrance instead.

The backdoor led to a little room that was connected to the main room and functioned as an office. There were books and parchment everywhere. It looked like a tsunami had went threw it.

You pointed to a side table to signal where he could put the food he had carried down.

"I'll be going through the books for a bit and take everything home later. Will I be seeing you again sometime? I'd would be my pleasure..."

Hongjoong thought for a second before answering. "Maybe ya will, Wooyoung has been begging me to come here again either way!"

The name didn't sound familiar but you guessed that it was one of his friends. Huffing out a laugh, you teased lighthearted," So you would only come back here to keep your crew mate happy? I see how it is Captain Hongjoong!"

An amused laugh resonated through the small room.

"Well, l/n y/n, ya'll see me around!"

And he was gone again. The whole encounter left you feeling various things at once. Happy that you got to see the handsome man again and even got to know his name, sad that he was gone again already and equally excited and impatient to see him again!

Suddenly the thought of having to go through the Inns income books wasn't as bad as it had sounded this morning.

-------

"And you talked to him?!" Hyunjin screeched, excited to hear the newest drama whilst drying a freshly cleaned plate with a rag. You winced and nodded, pulling another sound out of him that had customers turning their heads to see what the fuss was about. The waiter ducked his head at the scolding glare of Yoongi who, for once, was not hidden in the kitchen! Rubbing his hand over his ear, the cook quickly escaped. Leaving the proximity of where Hyunjins yells weren't as loud.

"How was he? He seemed really intimidating when he was here with his friends. Frowning all night long even though his friends seemed like so much fun..." It was clear that your friend wouldn't let it go and would keep bothering you until he knew every single detail about your encounter with the silver haired sailor. So you told him everything.

Jisung, who had graciously joined you at the bar once more tonight, propped his head up on his hands. A mischievous spark gleaming in his eyes.

"Sounds like our little y/n-ie has a cruuush!" he singsonged and received a rag to the face. "Yah! Have you lost it?" you snapped pouting.

Your waiter shook his head. "Nonono, for once I have to agree with what he's saying! It sounds like you were flirting, A LOT! And he flirted right back!" he agreed and Jisung mockingly stuck his tongue out at the other who responded in the same manner.

“Okay, first of all you two are acting like children and second, we were NOT flirting! And I do NOT have a crush!"

Both men looked at each other. "Sure you don't!"

You rolled your eyes, taking four filled mugs to bring them to a table near the back, leaving the two giggling lovebirds to chatter among themselves. Both of them were wrong! You hadn't flirted with the stranger and he hadn't with you! 

 The door swung open and a new wave of customers came in. Under them you recognized Jungwon ducking around a man who almost ran into a table. Your brother looked around searching for your familiar face and when he found it he skipped over to you.

"Wonnie what are you doing here? You should be in bed already," you questioned while balancing the empty mugs. The boy reached for some to take from you and followed you back to the bar.

"Father was being loud again." The casualness with which the boy answered left a bitter taste in your mouth. You hated it with a burning passion! Knowing that this was Jungwons reality since he was just mere moments old was one thing you couldn't help but resent! You knew what being loud meant and you were glad that your brother had chosen to leave rather then staying and listen to the old man moaning and screaming about how his children had ruined his life.

"Oh, really?" you asked dumbly, hoping to not appear to angry. Jungwon didn't notice and hummed.

"Yeah, couldn't sleep because of it," he placed the mugs on the counter for Hyunjin to clean. The tall boy looked confused for a split second but schooled his face and ruffled Jungwons hair in a friendly manner.

"You can take the bed in the back until I get out of here and then we can go home." you offered but your brother shook his head. Instead, he rounded the bar and climbed up the chair to sit next to Jisung who delightfully started to play games with him.

Yoongi let out a low whistle to get your attention. The cook had placed a steaming bowl with stew and fresh bread into your hands before signaling to Jungwon and disappeared again. The boy dug in happily and turned back to face Jisung.

You watched carefully. It wasn't often that he joined you ad work but whenever he did you always made sure that he was always around you or someone you trusted. This was after all a place filled with drunk men and women!

"Servin children in an establishment like this? 'm shocked!" the voice of Hongjoong ripped you out of your thoughts and you turned to look him in the eyes. You hadn't noticed him coming in, nor had you noticed him sitting down at the bar with his black haired friend that must have been Wooyoung.

The silver haired man winked at you which made your cheeks heat up.

"That's my brother." you stated quickly.

"’nd that's ma nightmare Wooyoung." retorted with a side smirk at his friend. Wooyoung sucked in a deep breath and answered with mock insult. "I'm wounded Captain! I thought what we had was special!"

With his hand thrown over his heart he made a pouty face at Hongjoong who just scoffed. Laughing gently you leaned against the bar.

"You're back sooner then I thought you would be,"

"What can I say? I was thirsty." Hongjoong said casually while the boy next to him snorted. "Thirsty for- "

He cut himself off at the glare he received and you hid a laugh behind your hand. Wooyoung was definitely not the type to hold back!

"And I thought you came to see me..." you quipped with an innocent smile playing on your face. You couldn't help but notice the way Hongjoongs eyes dropped to your lips and back up again. The knowing side eye from your waiter went unnoticed.

"Same as last time?"

The men both nodded and Wooyoung eyed you with a smirk but said nothing. Hyunjin filled both glass and mug and handed them to you to give to them.

Jungwon was yawning loudly and your focus went back to him.

"Tired Wonnie?"

The boy gave another yawn. "Can we go home now?"

You knew that it was way to early to close up now and with the way things were going, you didn't want to leave Hyunjin and Yoongi to have to cater all the customers alone. "You can lay down in the back if you want but I can't leave yet, I'm sorry little brother."

Jungwon rubbed his eyes.

"He can stay at my place for tonight if you want y/n. I was planning to leave soon anyways..."

Hesitating you looked at your brother and met his pleading eyes. "Fine, tonight is free of charge for you!"

Behind him Jinyoung raised his hand slowly. "Not for you!" you scowled. His hand dropped again.

The 11 year old hopped down from his stool  with Jisungs help. "I'll bring him by your house later, promise!"

You waved, blew a kiss and watched Jungwon pull a face of disgust before they went out the door.

"He's cute!" Hongjoong commented after a sip whiskey.

"He is and much to young to have to suffer late nights between drunk fools…”

At the questioning looks you received from both the silver and black haired you sighed. "What I said this morning was not just a phrase,"

While Wooyoung was non the wiser, Hongjoong had a look of understanding on his face. You weren't planning on airing out to the entire town how your family life was going but judging by the expression on his face, he understood very well without needing anymore details.

A plate shattered at a nearby table which ripped you out of your stupor and you went back to work.

Throughout the night,  non of your customers thankfully made any trouble. Relieved you whipped down the last table. People had cleared out and even Hyunjin and Yoongi had already left after the kitchen had been cleaned. You met Hongjoongs eyes who sat alone at the bar. His friend already gone.

"Where-" you began to ask where his companion was. "Went back to our ship already. He can handle a lot but he gets bored easily so he went back, probably to cause trouble with his shadow,"

His glass had long been empty already but something, or rather someone, stopped him from leaving too.

"Well I'm all done and since Wonnie is at Jisung's, I have no reason to go home yet. How about another drink? This time with me?"

You didn't know where this idea came from but the grin spreading out on the mans face was worth it. ”Gladly! I'll take another of those!"

He held up his glass only to get it taken from him and refilled just a second later with you rounding the bar and a glass of your own to sit where Wooyoung had sat earlier.

Silence engulfed the two of you. You felt him watching your every move while emptying your drink almost in one go.

“Seems like you needed that tonight. Ya okay little dove?" His voice was soft, soothing for your frazzled mind.

"As okay as I can be I guess. Raising a child and managing the Inn can be quite stressful at times." You snarked and turned your head to look at him. Hongjoong nodded.

"What about your mother?"

"Dead.”

While he had already thought that much, the man had not expected you to outright say it. In the short time that he had known you there were so many things that reminded him of the things he himself had gone through as a child! It was way to familiar to not be exactly what he thought.

He wished he could tell you how sorry he was that this was how you had to spend your life. Sure, the boy he met briefly tonight was an angel but he couldn't imagine that raising a child that young had ever been in your plans for life!

"Don't look so serious! It's fine and we're used to it! Better tell me when you and your pirate friends are gonna sail off again!"

The astonished look that crossed his face made you laugh loudly.

"What? Did you think I didn't know? The first night you came here the tall blond one called you Captain! You, wanted me to call you captain! And if you don't want people to know you should really change your look! You’re no exactly subtle..."

The pirate was rendered speechless at the teasing. He really thought you didn't know! He too laughed not knowing if he should get up and leave or stay right where he was.

"Don't worry, l won't tell anyone so tell me, how long are you going to be here for?"

Hongjoong shrugged. "We don't know yet. Our ship has to be fixed and we need to restock our storage first.  So probably a few more days!"

You hummed softly and he elbowed you gently into the side.

"Why do ya want to know? Ya gonna miss me?" he grinned and leaned over to get closer.

Your heart fluttered and you got even closer. Hongjoong glanced at your lips again where his eyes stayed for longer then necessary.

"Maybe..." you breathed out quietly and simultaneously you closed the gap between your lips. Eyes fluttering shut.

His lips soft and chaste moved slowly against your own, sending sparks through your body making you miss him as soon as he pulled back. Instead of entirely pulling away, he stayed close. Close enough for you to be able to feel his hot breath against you while his mouth hovered a mere inch over yours.

You slowly opened your eyes and could see him swallow harshly as you looked up, eyes finding his before they dropped back to his mouth, the tip of his tongue peaking out a little in a way that was almost mocking. For a split moment you just stared at the silver haired man.

The kiss had been brief, not long enough for it to be considered deep, but it had lit a fire in you that you hadn't known was there! It was an unfamiliar feeling that you had never felt before safe for the rare times you found yourself alone in the safety of your own four walls hiding you away from the greedy looks the men of the town often gave you! Never before had you felt this way in the presence of a man because of a man!

And when you suddenly felt his mouth back on your own, you couldn't help the sound that slipped out. The kiss now far more demanding and much less hesitant had your hands searching for something to hold onto.

Fingers buried into the lose fabric of the shirt covering his chest, giving you a short glimpse of his skin as you tugged on it, you rose from the bar stool to get closer. Hongjoong followed without further ado and without breaking the kiss. His own hands found their place on your jaw,  holding you right where he wanted and preventing you effectively from pulling away! Not that you wanted to!

You could feel his tongue licking at your lower lip, begging to be let in. A battle for dominance broke out, one that you willing and gladly gave up.

Quickly you found yourself pressed against the bar, the hard edge of the surface digging into your back. One of his hands let got of your face, instead holding onto your waist before you found yourself hoisted up and sad on top of your bar counter. The glass you had been nursing on got pushed back in the process and with a clanging noise it dipped over the edge and shattered into million little pieces on the ground.

Surprised by the sound of breaking glass you whipped around, separating your mouth from his which caused him to growl quietly in dissatisfaction.

"I-" you gasped out, inhaling deeply and with wide eyes you looked back at Hongjoong.

The pirate almost stared you down with desire darkening his eyes, breath short and his head slightly tilted back to take in the view in front of him. You didn't want to know what you looked like in that moment but you could imagine that you didn't look better then you felt!

"Ignore it," he said, voice low and licking his lips. "We can take care of it when I'm done with ya!"

 Hongjoong let his hands trail to your dress covered waist, down to your thighs and gently pried them open to stand in between them. His gaze was burning and you felt a little lost on what to do now.

It must have shown on your face because Hongjoong's softened at the sight of it. He grabbed your hands in his, moving them away from where they were still lodged into his shirt, lowering them and linking his fingers with your own. You looked down, noticing the black painted nail of his pinky for the first time before you got distracted again by his mouth slotting itself back against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you let him claim it as his again.

For a while that's all you did. You, high up on the bar with his standing right in front of you, kissing you and enjoying the little whines he managed to pull from you while he pressed his hard on straining against his trousers against your skirt covered thigh.

His lips were oh so soft against yours, warm and demanding in a way that made you want to submit to his every move the longer he kept his ministrations up! It made your whole body shudder. Heated skin brushing against the sleeves of your dress, making you want to get rid of it along with his! You wanted to feel his skin on yours, wanted him to touch you! So you moved to shrug the jacket from his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground carelessly.

"Hongjoong," you breathed against his lips, words sounding weak and whiny in a way you have never heard yourself sound before. He immediately looked back at you, a cocky smile adorning his face.

"What is it little dove? Got something to say?" he questioned and sounded sinfully innocent while doing so. It was clear that he was mocking you which you didn't appreciate in the slightest. With a rush of bravery and determination you  didn't know you had you directed one of his hands to the hem of your skirt, urging him to free you of it.

"Touch me!" you demanded.

Hongjoong had half a mind to simply rip the dress of your body once he saw a glimpse of the smooth skin of your legs but decided against it. He didn't want you walking through the streets later half undressed after all!

Teasingly slow he pulled the skirt up causing it to bunch up around your waist, leaving you in your undergarment. The man lost his patience fairly quickly after that and you felt him rip the last piece of fabric down your legs, leaving your dripping wet pussy exposed to the air around.

"Oh, little dove, I barely touched ya and you're already such a mess? Just for me?" he grins like a cat that caught the bird and let the fingers of his right hand slip through the juices collecting between your legs and over that sensitive bundle of nerve hidden there. His left one cupped your breast through your top. The way your nipple was pressing into his palm made him nearly lose his mind as it found it's way inside to free them just enough to spill over the fabric, giving him easy access to lean in and take the bud into his mouth and suck.

With a little shriek you weren't proud of you covered your mouth with your hand. The sensations you felt from your breast in his mouth and Hongjoongs hand between you legs left you speechless!

You clenched around nothing, pussy twitching with want to finally get some attention.

"Ah-ahh pleeease…”you begged breathlessly. What you begged for you weren't sure. The pirate looked up, still suckling and licking and his thumb slowly rubbing circles over your clit. Trying to push your hips further into his hand you let your head fall back.

"Are ya enjoying yourself?"

He guided your head back up, fingers under your chin, forcing you to look straight into his dark orbs. The hand working between your legs stopping and moving away. Frustrated at the loss you glared at him, causing Hongjoong to huff out a small laugh.

"Stop playing with me already and get on with it!"

The impatience in your voice wasn't lost on the man but instead of indulging you, he simply ignored it. He found it amusing that he could reduce you to such a bossy mess without really having done anything for it.

Entertained by the glare you gave him, Hongjoong shook his head.

"Ya know, I'm enjoying this way to much to just stop like that."

Without further warning the pirate dropped to his knees with a cunning smirk that should have been a warning in and for itself and let his tongue run over your folds. You jumped in shock, not having expected him to do that and a little shriek left your lips. Your first instinct was to push his head away but Hongjoong didn't let you! Instead the simply pushed your thighs further open to get even better access!

Sometimes you heard the whores that frequented the Inn talk and never had you even once entertained the idea of having a man between your legs yourself. It was harshly frowned upon to have sex outside of a wed-lock and even then it was never supposed to be about the pleasure of a woman!

But having this man, a pirate no less, lick up your juices like he was starving, finding joy in the way you moaned and keened highly with your hands trying to grab onto the wooden surface under you and your head thrown back, you cursed the gods that have led everyone to believe that.

His name fell like prayers from your lips and it was like music to his ears. Hongjoong had never been a child of innocence and showing you the wonders of what could be made his dick strain painfully against his trousers.

It was clear that you were quickly approaching your orgasm judging by the erratic breathing you let slip and to aid you he slipped his finger inside your fluttering hole.

You moaned loudly at the added pleasure, toes curling while one of your hands reached out to thread your fingers into his hair. The sudden tugging had Hongjoong groan into your pussy, the vibrations of it being enough to send you over the edge.

Hongjoong let you ride out your high before letting up, standing tall and pulled you upright.

You were panting, drops of sweat glistening on your forehead and eyes only half opened as you lazily blinked at him. Not giving you time, the pirate placed his juice slick mouth on yours, making you taste yourself. The kiss was rough nothing gentle about it and still you felt like this was how it was supposed to be!

Growing the courage to reach for the buckle of his belt, you carefully tried to open it with clumsy fingers. Hongjoong stopped you.

"We don't have to-"

"I want to! Please fuck me?"

The way the words fell from your lips, sounding so shy but sure at once had his mind reeling. Shrugging his trousers down to rest around his ankles the man tugged out his dick. You glanced at it, never having seen a naked male in all his glory and felt nervousness take over.

"Don't worry little dove, I'll make ya feel so good…”he trailed of lined himself up with your folds, kissed you softly and pushed in.

You clung to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Hearing the quiet whimper of pain Hongjoong halted. His eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure and it took all his will strength to not just thrust all the way into your heat. He let his hands trail down your side ever so gently. You almost couldn't feel it through the silk of your dress but it was enough to relax a bit.

"Go on..." you exhaled into his neck.

The pirate slowly pushed in, shushing every pained noise until he was sheathed all the way inside of you where he stilled. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he pulled out to thrust right back in.

The pain slowly turned into pleasure soon after and loud moans slipped out of you, telling the pirate exactly how good he was doing.

"Ya sound so good for me little dove. Let it all out, let me hear how good I make ya feel." He rasped right against your ear. It made your walls flutter around his cock and Hongjoong almost came on the spot as you whined his name in pleasure.

His thrusts grew irratic and Hongjoong knew that he wasn't gonna last much longer at the sensations of your head tightening around him.

Mouth pressing hard against yours he slipped his tongue inside while his thumb found your did again. Only mere seconds later you let out a high keen, cumming all over the pirates cock with him right behind you. Spilling his seed deep inside...

-------

Time past quickly after that night but Hongjoong seemingly had disappeared. It was a little disheartening if you were being honest. Something had changed for you. You were no longer just looking forward to have the pirate visit you but actively waiting for the man to open the door to the Inn and give you that cunning smile you had come to love.

That didn't happen. Hadn't you seen a glimpse of his mates around the market at times you would have thought the crew had already left town! However the captain stayed lost.

Your mood had dropped significantly since then and with it had your tolerance for bullshit from customers. Hyunjin had to cut in more times then you could count in just 4 days and you swore if you had to listen to one more scolding from him you swore you would lose it!

You weren't particularly eager to follow suit when both the chef and waiter had told you to go out, take some time off and then come back later the night.

And so you found yourself back at your favorite spot, looking at the moon glistening at the horizon and on the water of the sea. The cold air made you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin.

The silence of the night cooling your frazzled mind significantly.

You inhaled deeply and a lonely tear ran down your face only to be whipped away and be scowled at.

"Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" you chanted quietly to yourself. There was no reason to cry! So what if you gave your virginity to a stranger and gotten attached! He was a man and no man was worth even one tear!

"So this is where ya spend ya time little dove? I have to admit, its a beautiful sight!"

You didn't dare turn to look at him, fingers plucking at the grass under you.

"How did you know where I am?" you grumbled. Hongjoong stepped closer and sat down beside you.

"You weren't at the Inn, I was worried so l asked the chatterbox behind the bar."

His words made you scoff in disbelief which made him raise an eyebrow at your cold behavior.

"Is my little do- “ With a dark glare you cut him off hoping that he could see it in the darkness.

"Don't call me that! I'm not yours!"

Hongjoong immediately sensed that you were far from happy to see him.

"No you're not..."

The silence you gave him was loud and deafening. You bit your lip to stop the words you wanted to say. You wanted to know where he had been! Whether he really just didn't care enough about you and if you really weren't more then a quick fuck do satisfy his needs!

None of those questions came out. Much to scared to be right with your thoughts. You stayed focused on the gentle waves crashing against the rocks below you until you felt his rough calloused hands reaching for your own. You dropped the grass in shock which the pirate used to link them together.

"Ya mad at me," he stated calmly. "And ya have every reason to. Just know that I had my reasons... There were issues... lets say issues..."

You looked at his face, considering him for a moment.

"It's fine Hongjoong. You don't have to explain. Like I said. I'm not yours and you're not mine. So it's none of my business."

The words tasted bitter in your mouth but once they were out something seemed to settle over you. It made you feel the loneliness  you had felt much stronger then before.

"Maybe, but I don't like that frown on ya face little dove. I like ya much better when ya smiling."

"Hongjoong..." you sighed in defeat and looked back at the sea, hoping that he would finally say what he had to say so you could be alone again.

 The pirate searched for words that could best describe how he felt.

"Little dove, I- " he got cut off.

The sudden screams coming from the town had both of you looking back. One of the houses was brightly lit up, flames reaching into the nightsky! The stench of burning wood was causing your nose to itch and a bad feeling settled in your gut. Getting up, letting go of the fingers still linked with yours, you squinted your eyes when realization set in.

You lurched forward, leaving Hongjoong startled before he hurried after you.

The distance between your home and your favorite hiding spot had never seemed so far like in this moment and you finally reached the lit a flame house your lungs to felt like they were set on fire! Hurriedly you turned your head left and right to see if you could find your father and brother but all you could see was the intoxicated old man, sat with some of the older women while the worried about him and the burns on his arms.

Hongjoong too had reached the scenery staying close behind you.

"Jungwon!" you whispered when you couldn't find him. Darting forward, planning to run inside and get the boy out yourself, you charged towards the door when you felt 2 arms wrapping themself around your middle. Effectively preventing you from coming close to it!

"JUNGWOON!!!!"

Hongjoongs heart broke at the audible desperation in your screams. He had to use all of his strength to be able to hold you back while you pleaded with him to let you go. Tears were running down your face like a waterfall.

"Ya can't go in there little dove! Ya'll die trying!" he whispered into your ear from behind and sobs were bubbling out from your throat in response. Fighting against his hold was just draining your energy, his grip wasn't loosening and you gave up. Your knees gave away and you had to watch the house you had grown up in, the house you had raised your brother in, slowly collapse under the immense heat of the fire!

A series of unintelligible whimpers left you and all Hongjoong could do was shush you, his arms tightening around your trembling for, wanting to make sure you knew he was there. That you weren't alone.

The sound of thunder rumbled through the night and rain started falling as a slight drizzle soaking your hair and dress. You let it happen. Not caring if you got wet you let the rain mix with the tears until Hongjoong tried to move you to at least search for cover somewhere close.

The rain got stronger, fighting and winning against the flames until all that was left were a few still smoking, blackened beams of wood that had held the house up. Debris was everywhere.

A blanket was wrapped around your shoulders by your neighbor and Hongjoong who maneuvered you so he could properly hold you. Tired and numb you let him do as he pleased, still staring at the steaming remains.

You could hear the neighbors woman talking and for a moment you even thought you recognized Hyunjins voice but it was like your head was surrounded by a fog that made it impossible for you to really hear what they were saying.

Only when the sun started to rise, rain still falling and dark clouds covering the sky, did you finally see the entire damage the fire had left in it's wake.

Hongjoong watched some of the bystanders carefully search through remains, swallowing harshly when he saw the heavily burned body of a child being pulled out. He didn't think he would be this effected but just through the short moments he had seen of you and your brother, he knew that the confirmation of his death would be devastating.

The pirate glanced at your father. He had stepped out of the house he had been taken to and looked remarkably sober. Still, something about him irked the pirate to no end! With heavy steps the man walked through the rain right to where you and him where sitting. It didn't seem like you realized he was there and judging by the empty expression on the old mans face, it didn't look like he was very sad about the tragedy in the first place! Alarm bells went of in Hongjoongs brain.

"So you weren't in there," he said rubbing the back of his neck. The voice of your fathers hocked you out of your trance, making your red eyes focus on him.

"Father I-"

"What a shame…”

With those words the man walked off. You swallowed harshly at his words and Hongjoong carefully watched your eyes harden.

"Don't listen to him," he gently instructed as he looked after the man. This was the first time he ever met him and still, he could feel himself developing a kind of hate for the man he rarely ever felt. "He's just a bitter old man!"

Sniffing and whipping at your face, you turned your head to stare at your burned home.

"Yeah, maybe..."

Another single tear left your eyes.

"Oh dear! You're still outside? Heaven's you children will catch a cold the way you're sitting in the rain! Come inside please!" Madame Delacroix fussed as she came running. The seamstress pulled you up from the ground, out of the pirates hold and towards her home where she had prepared tea and some dry clothes for you. Hongjoong followed silently.  He was sure that with the way Madame Delacroix cared for you were going to be okay for now.

He stayed in the background, choosing to watch instead of involving himself in the way the older women made you lay down and covered you with a blanket. Not long after I you were out like a light.

The seamstress signaled for him to take a seat. Hesitant he followed the instruction. The scrutinizing gaze she gave him made him a little uncomfortable yet he did not back down, nor did he avoid her eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, eyebrow raised as if to warn him about lying.

Hongjoong thought. "Just a friend Madame."

"A friend huh?"

It was clear that she didn't believe him.

"Yes ma'am, a friend."

"Well then, friend. I hope you'll stick around, cause y/n seems to really like you. And with everything that happened tonight, the girl really could use someone who will be there for her. Are you going to be staying?"

His mind went back to his ship and the crew that was waiting for him at the docks so they could restart their journey and guilt settled inside of him like a chain wrapped around the ankle of a prisoner.

"Not for long." There was no use in lying to the women. It seemed like she already knew when he was going to before he even did!

She nodded.

"Does she know?"

No.

-------

When he came back much later then originally planned, his first mate was already waiting for him at the railing.

"Where were you?!"

Seonghwa scowled at the captain. His long black hair was neatly tied back and a few astray strands were framing his face gently. With his arms crossed in front of his chest he glared at Hongjoongs tired form while he joined him.

"Things went differently then expected..."he sighed, leaning against the wood of the ships railing.

The black haired mans face softened a little. "What do you mean? We thought you wanted to say goodbye? Did she not want you to?"

Hongjoong ran his hand over his face in an attempt to rub the incoming headache away.

"Ya saw the flames I'm guessing?"

"It was hard not to see them."

"Hmm, it was her house..."

That left Seonghwa speechless. He gaped at the smaller man. "Ohhh."

"Yeah, ohhh. Her brother didn't survive and don't get me started on the father! He looked like he wished she was in there too!" he spat. "Ya should have heard him talk Hwa !"

"Judging by your face, I'd rather not." There was a moment where they just looked at each other before Seonghwa let out along sigh.

“I'll tell the others that we're staying until tomorrow, you make sure you're getting some rest and then take care of your girl!" with that the man was gone and Hongjoong left alone! A happy shriek could be heard not long after from somewhere on deck.

"She ain't ma girl!" Hongjoong grumbled to himself and looked down at the water slosh against his ship.

But the little voice in the back of his head immediately started taunting him.

Are ya sure? Or are ya just a coward huh? Ya know that if ya could, ya would just take her and sail away with her!

Would he? He would lie if he said that he didn't come to like your company and while having been running from a few pissed officials for the last few days after your shared moments against the Inn's bar, he had worried about you more then he would like to admit! You truly had bewitched him in a sense after just a few days spend together!

So yes, the annoying voice was right even if not entirely! He did want to spend more time with you, if only to get to know you better and the little flutter his heart did at the mere thought of your bright eyed smile was a sure sign that the voice was onto something.

Exhausted he stood upright and carried himself to his quarters. He threw his boots somewhere to the side, shrugged the damp jacket and shirt off, leaving his chest bare in sthis trousers and fell face first into his bed. He groaned, his mind plagued by the desperate screams of you while you fought to reach your brother.

Debating on what he should do now as he didn't want to leave you behind with a man that, to him at least, couldn't care less for you, yet he knew that the crew couldn't stay much longer without rising suspicions of who they truly were. He also couldn't just offer to take you with them, at least not without a lengthy discussion with the boys!

And there was no way of actually knowing if you even wanted to leave! This was after all where you had grown up.

Hongjoong closed his eyes and  there wasn't anything he could do to will away the mental picture of you, sleeping by his side in this very bed. Waking up together, cuddles and kisses and being able to fuc- NO!

He couldn't let his mind wander there or else he might do something drastic!

Frustration settled in his bones. Why was this happening to him?

-------

Shivering you opened your eyes to the smell of chamomile and stew. It was a weird combination but your stomach responded with a demanding growl.

A sneeze forced itself out; almost causing Madam Delacroix to drop the wooden spoon she was stirring the stew with. The woman cursed and whirled around, spoon raised as if to throw it any possible attacker only to come face to face with you propped upon her bed.

Your head hurt from all the crying and possibly having caught a cold. You also could feel your throat hurting due to the smoke you had inhaled.

"You're awake! Finally, I was already worried since you slept half the day away without even turning around once. I guess you truly were exhausted from last night…” The caring tone with which she spoke almost let the tears return.

"Jungwon, is he- “ you croaked out. Madam Delacroix stepped closer and sat down at your side.

"I'm sorry dear, they found his body this morning. He-“

You held up your hand to cut her off. You didn't want to know how they found him, if he was burned or not, that wasn't how you wanted to remember the bright little boy.

"And my father? I saw him earlier, so where is he now?"

“Maybe at the Inn, I’m not sure.”

“Oh.. okay, thank you.”

There were no tears left to cry just as there was nothing left for you to hold close. With Jungwon gone, you didn’t feel like you had any reason to return to your father. The man had already made it clear what he thought.

You were alone, alone in a world that had never been kind to you or wanted to see you strive in any way possible. The only one who you considered even remotely close, was Hongjoong.

Hongjoong had had not left your side until he was sure that you were taken care of. Why had he done it? He had no reason to do such thing.

A pirate captain who stopped in your town to make sure they stoked up on supplies, planning to leave sooner rather then later.

Who surely had not planned to stay stay for a woman he had met only a few years ago.

Why your even wanted him to consider that was beyond you but to think that the pirate sailing awy soon, broke what little of your shattered heart had remained in tact.

“Do you know what you’re going to do now? Going back to your father doesn’t seem like the smartest thing, dear.” Madame Delacroix hummed out as she took your hand, thumb grazing softly over the skin there.

All you could do was shake your head.

“I don’t want that, but I also don’t have much of a choice, do i?”

The old woman looked deeply into your eyes, wanting to make you understand what she was going to say next.

“You always have a choice! It’s going to be hard and people may judge you, but you can always choose to leave… You can leave this town, start somewhere else. Find a new home or sail away if you really want to. It is YOUR choice.”

“Where would I even go?” you cried prompting the other to take your face into her hands.

“Whereever you want to. Listen to your heart, listen to what it calls for. Who it calls for.”

Who it-

A knock on the door broke the moment and Madame Delacroix let up to go open it.

“Well hello there, friend! What brings you back so soon?”

Hongjoong awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped inside the tiny living space. His eyes found yours.

“Ya are awake, how ya feeling little dove?”

The knowing side glance of Madame Delacroix went skillfully ignored by the man stepping closer, only to fall onto his knees in front of you.

“I’m… alone… Jungwon, he… he…” you whimpered almost to silent for him to hear.

“Ya aren’t alone, my little dove. Ya got me. ‘nd I ain’t plannin on-“ he tried to calm you down as best as he could. His rough calloused hands taking yours.

“You’re going to leave! Hongjoong you’re going to leave with your crew and then I’ll be alone. For real this time. Without Jungwon my life will be nothing. I don’t know anything else beside the Inn and taking care of Wonnie and I’m not going back. I’m not- I can’t-“

“Don’t ya say that. Ya won’t have to go there and ya won’t be alone. I-“ Hongjoong rushed to say, the brown in his eyes looked almost black in the light of the room. “I will come back… someday.”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue. Sounding like a lie to his own ears. Soemthing he didn’t want them to be. However he knew that the chance of the coming back was slim, almost non existend. So yes, they were a lie.

A thought struck him as he watched your eyes water, yet no tears fell. He knew Seonghwa and the crew would call him crazy for it but it only seemed logic for him.

You didn’t want to stay with that shit face that was your father. A mother that had died long ago and the lose of the boy you had raised, nothing was left that you could say you wanted to stay with.

“Come with me! Join our crew and-“

“And what then? I’m not a sailor. I’m not a pir- you know what! As much as I love the sea, I couldn’t…”

You looked at Madame Delacroix over Hongjoongs head. Watching as the older woman tapped her chest right where her heart was beating.

Nausea made your stomach roll, almost letting the tea you had a while ago come back up.

“I’m sorry Hongjoong.”

 Disappointed his hopeful expression fell. Hurt that you didn't even seem to consider it an option to leave with him, that you didn't consider HIM an option in this tragic turn of your life, the man nodded shortly. "Don't apologize little dove."

He let go of your hands. Immediately you missed the warm feeling of his skin on your own and the smallest wave of panic hit when you realized that he was trying to get up. Trying to put some distance between you and him.

It made your heart clench. His crest fallen face breaking it all over again. Reaching out to him hoping he would come back only to lower it again when Hongjoong avoided your eyes to instead look at Madame Delacroix who had busied herself in her little kitchen to not appear like she was listening to your conversation. She absolutely was. She also had the urge to smack some very stubborn youngsters!

"The Aurora will set sails as soon as the sun rises in the morning!" Hongjoong announced, his jaw sat with his chest puffing out to appear taller. "I came to say farewell."

"Hongjoong- "

His brown orbs fell back on you.

"It was ma pleasure to have met ya, little dove. Wherever ya are gonna fly, I hope the winds treat ya well."

Madame Delacroix stepped closer with a towel to dry her wet hands. A soft yet smile grazed her lips.

"Good luck boy, and take care of yourself. I promise I will look after your girl..."

The woman winked at Hongjoong who gave you one last glance. "Goodbye…” before he was out the door.

No, no, no! This couldn't be! He couldn't leave you just like that! Not now and not yet! When you had said he was going to leave, you had meant in a few days. Not the next morning! The sky outside was already dark, indicating that it was nighttime again. You felt like someone had emptied a bucket of Ice cold water above your head as realization set in.

Hongjoong had given you an out, one that you were to scared to take. You were overwhelmed with all the changes in such short time and your breathing started to pick up. Fighting against the fabric still wrapped around your legs and body, you hurried to get up and follow the man that threatened to leave your life again after he had shaken up your world in the matters of days. It seemed silly to be so attached after such short time but it didn't matter to you.

Never in your life had you felt as cared for and appreciated as when you were around him and that scared you.

Almost face planting in the process, you cried out. A loud sob sending you into a coughing fit cut through the silence of the house and it was only when the gentle hands of the seamstress helped you up and out of your prison fabric that you managed to focus your blurry vision on something else then the door that Hongjoong had just walked out of.

"Shhh, girl. It's okay, you're going to be okay, but you gotta breath for me. Do you hear me? You have to breath with me!" She took a shaky hand to lay it on her steadily rising and falling chest, forcing you to follow along.

"No he- he can- can't leave! Please I-“ you stuttered through the heaves to get air back into your lungs.

"I understand, but first you have to calm down. Breath and then we will figure this out." Her words were spoken softly but you heard her clear enough. Breathing became easier again, yet the scratching of your throat remained even as you stopped hyperventilating.

"That's right, just like that." She soothed and helped you of the ground to lead you to the kitchen table where she had prepared a bowl filled with broth and some bread to get some strength back.

"You really got yourself into situation there, hmm?"

You chocked out an agreement, staring down at the food but not touching it. "Yeah"

"So what will you do? There is not a lot of time to choose anymore, and judging by what I have seen so far, your heart almost screams for this pirate."

Of course she knew, you weren't even surprised. Old as she might be, Madam Delacroix was attentive to everything going on in this town.

"Listen to what it tells you y/n. Don't let yourself regret not doing it."

"I told him no just now, why would he still want me by his side?" You whispered defeated. The fight having left you completely and Madam Delacroix tsked at the pathetic sight you were right now. Having known you since you were barely old enough to walk, having seen the confident woman you had grown to be, she couldn't understand how you had let yourself get this lost in your insecurities.

"That man was very much ready to fight his crew in offering you a place on his ship, girl. Women are nothing sailors usually want as they think that a woman only brings bad luck once they set foot on board. He will be glad that you changed your mind. It's up to you now to do so, so what will it be?"

Silence overcame the room and time seemed to stand still.

“I don’t want to stay, not now and never again…”

“Then I think you have your answer.”

The chair screeched as it’s legs scratched over the flooring; clattering to the ground in the process with how abrupt you jumped to stand.

“I-“

Madame Delacroix held out a shoulder cloth she hadn’t used in years. “Go!” she urged just as the first rays of the sun appeared in the distance behind the horizon. Watching as you rushed out and knowing that it was unlikely she would ever see you again…

----------

Running through the empty village, you almost tripped over your own feet multiple times. Just like always, there was mostly no one to be see as you raced through the streets. You passed by the Inn, Jinyoung snoring loudly in front of the closed door with 1 or 2 chickens clacking softly and even picking at his hair. Had the situation you had found yourself in not been so serious, you probably would have laughed out loud at the sight.

The docks weren’t that far, yet it felt like you were running for ages when you finally reached the first ships.

With the Sun rising slowly over the water , it made it easy to spot the ship Hongjoong and his crew had arrived in only mere days ago. It was the only ship that was bustling with life; many faces you didn’t recognize and only a hand full you did through their visits at the Inn. Gasping for air and with your lungs threatening to give out you hurried up the gangway.

“y/n? What are you doing here? You cant be here, we-“

“Wooyoung please… where is Hongjoong?” you cut the rambling pirate off, coughing.

“He— I-“ The dark haired man stammered out.

“Follow me.”

You looked to where the voice had come from, recognizing another face from the first night you had met part of the crew.

The man didn’t wait for you and so you had to hurry after him, still trying to catch your breath. You could feel your airways protesting at the harsh breathing but that didn’t matter as you  did as you were told.

His knuckles rapped against the hard surface of the wooden door you guessed was the Captains quarter. Your heart was racing, pleading for this to not have been a mistake.

“Fuck off, Hwa!” The captains voice sounded rough through the door, angry at having been disturbed.

Hwa, you guessed, looked at you and nodded towards the door.

“Go on. He might sound annoyed but don’t let that scare you away.”

He left right after. Leaving you standing there to figure out what to do. This time you knocked, softer then the pirate that had left you by yourself, yet it didn’t seem to change the outcome.

Hongjoong only roared in anger and only when you heard a crash from inside did you get brave enough to throw the door open.

With wide eyes and his hair sticking up, he looked almost murderous as he swiveled around and glared at the door. Gaze softening upon realizing that you were in fact not his crew mate.

Closing his mouth that had stood open and gaping at you like a fish on land you both stared at the other before Hongjoong barreled forward, his hands suddenly cupping your face his lips pressed to yours in a hard, desperate kiss. Your fingers found the back of his head, running through the hair that was pulled up into his usual braided hair; seeking the warmth of his body while your tongues danced a passionate dance that was equally devastated and reassuring until you had to come back up for air.

“Take me with you!” you chocked out, a lonely tear falling down your face as Hongjoongs nose softly nudged against yours in a feathery touch. With his thumb brushing the salty liquid away, you waited, fearing what his answer might be.

“I’ll take ya anywhere ya want to!” He promised with another press to your mouth.

----------

Neither you nor Hongjoong knew where the winds would take you, but you both knew what ever would come your way, you would handle it.

Together.

[vetteltea]

congrats on 500 !!!! you deserve it sooo much 🫰🫰

i know you aren’t really a lando girlie….but since you’re so talented,,,can i request strawberry tea w lando & the napping together prompt ? thank you !!!! 🫶 (and congrats again !! 💞🤧)

☕︎ strawberry tea

LN4 and 'napping together'

He’s home. 

Every triple header you can’t attend gets a little troublesome; the apartment feels lifeless, the walls lackluster of laughter bouncing around. The puzzle the two of you had yet to complete lay dormant on the dining room table; a stark reminder that every meal without your boyfriend was eaten curled up on the modular sofa you’d also been sleeping on, the only comfort being a fluffy blanket, the smell of him already fading. 

The door had clicked, the text messages having faded since he had stepped off the plane, obviously more focused on returning back to you than responding to your questions. You didn’t care, not when you reached the entry foyer and saw him; tired, sore but smiling. His suitcase and travel bag faded into nothingness as a choked sob left your lips, running down the hall in sock feet and leaping at your boyfriend, two strong arms holding you against him, hiding his own head in your neck. 

“I’m home.” He’d whispered between shivers, overwhelmed from feeling your body pressed against his for the first time in over three weeks. Between whispers, in regards to how much they’ve missed one another, he’s pressing kisses against your face, your hands finding and threading through his curls, pleading he wouldn’t disappear without you again, at least not for a week.

Lando is so gentle, he can feel you shivering, probably from the lack of sleep and the realization he’s returned. It takes a few moments, unraveling yourself from one another, letting him link your fingers together, guiding you down the hall and back into the lounge. His heart melts when he sees the blankets cocooned into a makeshift bed like you had done oh-so-often for movie nights. 

“Have you been sleeping out here?” He coaxes, shifting from where you had been standing next to him, clamoring into the modular setup, immediately wiggling out of his shoes and hoodie, leaving him shirtless and oh-so-cozy. Lando didn’t miss the blush that tinted your cheeks, both from his toned chest and heavy question. 

“The bed felt…so empty without you.” The whisper left your lips. You hadn’t slept the first night, reaching out constantly to feel his warmth and shattering each time it hit that he wasn’t there. He’d never admit, but Lando had the exact same problem, having to physically exhaust himself into sleep. It would never come out, he’d never want his sweet girl to worry. Instead, he wordlessly raises his two arms, a signal for you to come and join him in the makeshift bed; he really doesn't have the energy to haul the cushions and blankets back to his actual bedroom.

It takes you less than a moment to react, bundling straight into his arms, both of you soft with giggles and gentle kisses. It’s like fitting a piece back together, your head immediately rests against his sternum, arms encircling you and holding you tighter. He’s warm. Oh, so warm and so comfortable that you can’t help but feel your eyes droop, getting heavier with the sleep debt you had gained. Delirium begins to overtake you both, adamant on napping rather than talking, it happened after years together.

“Do you want dinner?” You’d asked, voice teetering on the edge of sleep, only drawn closer when Lando’s hand reaches out, cupping your cheek and pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“We’ll order later. Right now I just want you.” He presses a final kiss to your temple, lying back into the blankets and dragging you with him. It’s less than a few minutes before sleep overtakes you both, eyes heavy with only one thought running through you both, that you’re home. 

part of the vetteltea 500 celebration!

[annebd]

this is not!fic. it’s just been bouncing around my head for a while now and i needed to get it out.

daniel is a professional trip sitter. he’s officially a licensed psychotherapist, but that’s more of a side effect of the trip sitting. he kind of fell into it by accident. he had a couple of friends who got into some seriously bad shit when they were younger, and he told them that whenever they were going to partake in anything, they needed to call him so that he could make sure they were okay. they did, and he was really good at keeping them safe and keeping the vibes chill. word got around, and eventually he was trip sitting for friends of friends of friends and it became an actual thing. he got the therapy degree mostly just to make the whole thing seem more legit.

max is max. but he’s max without daniel’s influence to temper and even him out. so he’s max, but pointier. it’s the second summer break of 2024, he’s fighting for his fucking life out on track, the team is doing nothing to help him win this wdc, the media is hounding him constantly, and he’s fraying at the edges. he’s lashing out and has no idea how he’s gonna get through the next two triple headers to finish the season.

maybe rupert is the one who takes him aside one day and hands him a business card and is like “if anyone asks, i will deny this with my dying breath, but you need to calm the fuck down. please call this guy. he will help you.”

or maybe it’s martijn. they’re on a facetime and martijn is like “motherfucker, we aren’t even on the same continent and you’re stressing ME out with how high strung you are. please sort your shit out. i know a guy who knows a guy. i’ll send you his contacts. please call him. for the sake of my sanity.”

or maybe it’s both of them. and when max finally gets around to looking at the details that they gave him, he realizes that it’s the same guy. and he figures that if both rupert and martijn have independently heard of him, maybe there’s something to it.

so he calls and speaks to someone who sounds very perky and very australian and schedules a time to meet so that they can talk about the plan and stuff

they meet. something something something. the maxiel of it all.

daniel is a professional and takes his job super seriously so he knows he can’t act on these feelings at all, but omg, this is the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen in his entire life. he’s got these broad shoulders and pouty lips and the tiniest waist and the cutest lisp and he’s so grumpy, omg so grumpy, but he laughs at daniel’s dumb jokes and makes his own dumb jokes back

and max is like, immediately and irrevocably in love. end of sentence. but even he realizes that it’s probably not a great idea to try and bone the therapist who’s gonna trip sit for you. he’s not happy about it, but he gets it.

so they set it up and he drinks the tea or whatev and has the floatiest happiest bestest time and daniel is there with him and basically it’s everything he could possibly have wanted. good job, psychedelic mushrooms.

he comes down and feels amazing and thanks daniel and tips him entirely too much when he gets the invoice two days later and puts his head down to finish out the season

he wins

six months later, he’s back in LA and he calls the number on the back of the card and asks daniel if he wants to go out for a cup of tea. without the shrooms this time. <3

[chronically-ghosted]

stay gold, baby boy

rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: almost 6K

summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants. 

warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it

a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did. 

✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨

🤍Masterlist

With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.

Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it. 

And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.

Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking. 

Which had led to this. 

And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there. 

Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.

The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.

But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything. 

In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place. 

It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase. 

But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room. 

A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).

He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star. 

Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him? 

But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care. 

You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want. 

(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message. 

He called on day five, by the way.)

Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his. 

You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.

Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision. 

The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.

“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.” 

You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut. 

Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out. 

Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.

“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”

You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t. 

It’s officially embarrassing.

It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.  

Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines. 

But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –

He’s wearing pants. 

Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.

You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.

Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing. 

“Are you okay? Why are you –,”

As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.   

His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.

“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.” 

He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –

“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving. 

You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance. 

“So I’m here.” 

“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.

“On the last day of the week.”

“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.” 

God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet. 

You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face. 

“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”

His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column. 

“Because I was a good boy?” 

You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.

“Because you were a very good boy.” 

He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.

His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center. 

“Go lock the door, baby.” 

He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.

Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.

Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department. 

“Really?” 

You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees

“For as long and as much as you want.”  

You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper. 

“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.” 

“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.” 

Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.

You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling. 

“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”

Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers. 

It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.

Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock. 

“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive. 

For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock. 

You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.

“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.” 

As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest. 

“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” 

Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.

“I know.”

And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all. 

Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.

“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”

The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens. 

He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue. 

“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week. 

You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard. 

“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock. 

Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. 

“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.” 

He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes. 

You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt. 

“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.” 

He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked. 

“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”

You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.

“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.” 

You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”

Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”

Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”

You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us. 

Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.” 

“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”

“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing. 

Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?” 

Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.” 

“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”

Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.” 

Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??

His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.” 

It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck. 

Fuck.

“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”

He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”

“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.” 

Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees. 

“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.” 

You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips. 

The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head. 

“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”

You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein. 

And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –

Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet. 

The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –

With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head. 

You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him. 

You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”

He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull. 

Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes. 

He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer. 

Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor. 

Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates. 

Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”

His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him. 

You swear your nerves are on fire.

He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.

But this, this is you taking all you want and then some. 

In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze. 

No roles. No games. No landmines. 

Exposure. 

Blistering and brittle.

Safety. 

You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder. 

Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose. 

“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud. 

You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs. 

“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,” 

He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it. 

“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”

Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.

The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves. 

You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna –  oh, shit,”

His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his. 

He doesn’t seem to mind.

Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days. 

Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards. 

His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.

It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move. 

The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.

For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.

“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”

“Five stars?” 

You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.

He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.

This feeling, you can contain it. 

For now. 

Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead. 

“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.” 

His smile widens. 

[ashdreams2023]

Hello! Can I please request a Loki x reader oneshot where them and all the avengers go on like a private cruise but reader gets sea sick so Loki takes care of her the whole time?? 😁 (sorry if this is a weird request lmaoo I just have bad sea sickness🥲)

More Loki comforts on the way!

Sea sick

"Are you good in there?" Loki spoke to you from behind the bathroom door.

"I want to die…" the taste of vomit was fresh in your mouth and your head was spinning whenever you looked up and was reminded that the place was actually moving.

You really thought this was a good idea for you to come, knowing damn well you get dizzy from a ride on a small boat let alone a whole cruise.

It took fifteen minutes for it to kick in, you ran to the nearest bathroom and emptied your stomach, Loki looked alarmed to say the least, you hadn’t bothered telling him or anyone about your issue.

"I’ll get some clean clothes" he said stepping away from the bathroom door, you sighed and laid your head on the toilet lid tiredly, your swimsuit long thrown away and you sat butt naked on the floor heaving like a dehydrated animal and probably looked like one to a random passerby.

After what felt like hours but was actually three minutes you pushed yourself off the bathroom for and flushed the toilet and sat at the edge of the small bathtub.

Loki walked in holding a pair of pajamas and a glass of cold water "can you stand?"

"I don’t know…"

He sighed and gave you the glass of water then pulled your hair out of your face and ran his cold hand over your forehead and the back of your neck like an ice pack.

Eventually he helped you into the room and put some clothes on you, you laid your back on the header of the bed and tried to avoid looking at the window.

"I’m guessing you’re not hungry after all of that"

"Ya think?"

He rolled his eyes then sat beside you with his cold hand pressing on the exposed skin of your collarbone and your neck.

"I had really nice swimsuits…I even got waved…" you mumbled.

Loki snorted then kissed your temple "you could’ve easily said no and we could have went to the beach instead"

"But there’s not free food and entertainment at the beach"

He raised a brow at you.

You pouted and hid your face on his chest "Fine I couldn’t enjoy either…I guess you have a point but it’s too late to back down now…and I dragged you with me, you should be drinking margaritas with the guys not babysitting my dumbass self"

"Nonsense, I can order room service, plus I have no interest listening to Clint’s drunk self babbling about arrows"

"Are you sure? I can sleep it away, I don’t want to ruin the trip for you even more"

"I am 100% ok with staying here with you, I only came because you were coming, so just relax and perhaps later I can get you put something in your belly and don’t worry about your waxing adventure…it won’t go to waste" he chuckled noticing your ears turning red at the last bit and held you until you were ready to stand on your own again.

[sineala]

I subscribe to the newsletter of an author I like who wrote a book about 9/11 and the War on Terror and the security state in the US and how it led to the election of Trump, and it's all very serious but apparently the author is writing an Iron Man comics series. I don't read the comics, and a lot of what I know about them comes from your fic, so I'm honestly not sure how much fanon vs canon knowledge I have. 😂 But the series sounds like it might be interesting I think? The author talked about it in his newsletter today. (This link should work. Probably.)

https://www.forever-wars.com/iron-man-how-to-blow-up-a-pipeline-succession/

I am actually really excited about this run! I try not to get excited about new Iron Man runs because chances are high that my hopes and dreams will be crushed, and I know that just because someone writes, say, stunningly excellent non-fiction, it is not a guarantee that they will be great at writing fiction at all or superhero comics specifically (cf. Ta-Nehisi Coates on Cap), but judging by everything Spencer Ackerman's been saying in interviews, his run sounds like it's going to explore a lot of interesting themes.

The post you linked links to an AIPT podcast that he was on a few days ago to talk about his new Iron Man run. For those of you who don't listen to podcasts (this is also me), the Iron Man subreddit has what seems like a fairly comprehensive summary of the interview, and I am really looking forward to the run. Issue #1 apparently hits stores on October 23.

But I will tell you why I am actually now really excited about this run. It's not relevant to anything about the comic itself. I am nonetheless very excited.

Last month, after he was announced as the new Iron Man writer, in order to hype up his run, he posted an offer on his blog: if you add the run to your pull list, and you email him proof that you're pulling his run and include a snail-mail address, he will mail you some cool Iron Man stickers.

I eventually got around to doing this last week. I was assuming he didn't actually pay attention to any of these emails so I dashed off a couple sentences about how I was looking forward to his take on Tony because he'd posted a photo of the Iron Man comics he was reading for research and several of them were among my favorites. And then I went off to get bagels.

By the time I had come back with bagels, twenty minutes later, he'd written me a very nice reply substantively engaging with the content of my extremely off-the-cuff message -- geez, if I'd known he was going to be actually reading them I would have put a lot more thought into it, you know? It was very kind and I was not expecting it.

He spelled my first name wrong in the reply, despite it being in the email header and also the name I had signed the email with.

This happens to me a lot. I have a first name that is very common in a lot of languages, but none of those languages are English. I'd say there's a 50-50 chance that a native English speaker will spell or pronounce my name wrong. This is unfortunate, because I live in the US and mostly interact with native English speakers. (My wife @lysimache immediately knew how to pronounce my name. I mean, it wasn't why I married her or anything, but I feel like it was a big plus on a personal level.)

If I have to give my name for something, I will reflexively spell it. The second-to-last time I voted, they'd switched voter lookup to you giving them your name rather than you giving your street address, which was a surprise that filled me with dread. My wife was in line ahead of me and she was completely finished voting by the time the poll workers had finished correctly spelling my name. (The last time I voted, I just handed them my ID, which is not required in my state, but I really wanted this to go faster.) I went to the doctor last week, and when they called my name in the waiting room, they said it wrong. I corrected them. They said it differently wrong a couple minutes later. I corrected them again. They said it wrong again. At that point I gave up.

(If I could think of a name I liked better that I was absolutely sure that most people could spell and pronounce, I would change my name. I still have not found one.)

So, you know, I'm used to it. It happens. Frequently. I was not at all surprised that he spelled it wrong.

He then emailed me again to apologize for spelling my name wrong. Like, immediately. One minute later. He said he was sorry and he knew a lot of people with a similar name.

Dude. Nobody does that. Nobody actually apologizes. Especially not in an email to a rando like me. He did not need to do that. At all. I was not expecting him to do that. He did that. I was honestly touched. No one bothers to do that. But he did.

I got my stickers in the mail yesterday.

I have redacted the portion of the note that has my name in it, but he absolutely spelled my name correctly.

Mr. Ackerman, sir, I hope your comic sells a million copies.

[alianoralacanta]

Hi Alianora! I am curious to know your thoughts on Ferrari and PR. Particularly how they do damage control. 2022 comes to mind, and this year's triple header as well.

Maybe it's because I don't keep up with other team statements as much but Ferrari seem to be less... transparent?? with their struggles as a team. Binotto in 2022 comes to mind when he would pin the blame on his drivers and say that nothing needs to change.

Also Charles in particular plays the PR game more than Carlos. I mean, this year in China, Charles said the two of them had talked and everything was fine, but then when asked, Carlos said the complete opposite and that they hadn't actually sorted it out. Oops.

I remember specifically Charles saying the team was "extremely united, no division" in 2022 but then multiple statements of his in 2023 under Vasseur imply otherwise.

Ferrari seem to be more willing to throw their drivers under the bus when shit hits the fan and it's more clear that the team messed up big time. Vasseur will have no problem defending Charles in weekends where Ferrari aren't a complete disaster, but in situations like the triple header, he's willing to shift the focus on the drivers.

Is it a Ferrari pride sort of thing?

Ferrari and PR

Firstly, apologies for the long delay in replying. This is my 3rd attempt at finding a coherent frame for my thoughts on the subject. I hope this works. If it does not, please request clarification, reframing or simply to have another attempt.

Also, fair warning: long essay. This essay is 6060 words long, excluding headings. As such, it will be divided into multiple “read more” sections. Tumblr only allows this by posting the essay multiple times, with a fresh addition each time. Please wait for the “Essay complete. Hope this helps” before reblogging. Firstly, PR is not a monolith. Humanity is not a monolith with one unified opinion of what everything is and how everything works. They agree and disagree on what is appealing in a statement made to them on a given subject. Thus, PR can and often is tailored to particular audiences. Furthermore, different groups that produce PR value different things. Section 1: What does Ferrari value? (Ferrari myth PR)

Ferrari has been stricter about PR than any other team. Part of this originated with Enzo Ferrari himself, for he was careful to ensure that nothing was said that undermined Ferrari's political position or offended his sense of what the speaker's job should be (driver or engineer). It has to be said that this didn't put the boundaries in the same place as any modern team's PR approach. While complaining about the team or car being slow was considered just as wrong then as now, a driver saying they'd been cautious because the race was long would also be considered bad. Enzo considered it his job to worry about the car, and the driver's job to press the car as hard as possible. (An engineer who suggested putting less emphasis on the engine in favour of the chassis would fare no better). On the other hand, skipping a sponsor event to go kart would probably meet with his approval. (Whether he would have regarded Max's sim racing as similar enough to treat likewise is unknown, since race driving software wasn't very sophisticated in the 1980s). Later in Enzo Ferrari's career, there began to be more emphasis on Ferrari the myth. Niki Lauda was not particularly appreciated while he was at Ferrari because his approach was so different from Enzo's ideal, but Niki became far more appreciated after that because Enzo realised what he'd done had, in fact, resulted in Ferrari's myth strengthening. (The title did no harm either). Gilles Villeneuve encapsulated what it meant to augment the Ferrari myth. The intervening decades ended up condensing the traits that became part of "Ferrari myth PR": - humble and modest - fast - respectful of opponents - downplaying team psuedopolitics - eloquent and concise when needed - competing with style, verve and boldness - able and willing to do the impossible - believing in the team even when it does not believe in itself - remember one represents a dream - remember that, whatever one's nationality, one represents the honour of the tifosi The price for defying PR in the Enzo Ferrari era was variable and fickle, due to the perennial psuedopolitics behind the scenes. (The situation under Fred Vasseur would have been considered relatively calm back then. Some parts of the Mattia Binotto era, not so much).

[roguishcat]

BG3 Fanfiction Masterlist

(Header and dividers by @saradika)

Mostly Astarion x female Tav or Astarion x my OC, although other characters do make appearances.

Read on AO3

Series

Conversations with a vampire

Summary: Astarion's eyes shot open and he scowled at the child crouched near him. This had to a trick. Because there was no way that a child dressed like a noble would be in a back alley behind the Flophouse at this time at night offering him salvation in the form of a potion of superior healing.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Rating: Teen. Mild language, mentions of abuse in later chapters, canon compliant violence.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Art - chapter 5

Chasing perfection

Chasing perfection is not only impractical but mostly unattainable. Instead of boosting our achievements, it shrinks them. Why? Because when we aim too high, "failure" becomes the norm, chipping away at our self-confidence bit by bit. But then again, maybe perfection is overrated.

Humor/Angst/Romance

Rating: Mature. Mentions of abuse, violence, mature themes. Chapters with smut will be marked red.

Pairing: Astarion/(Fem)Tav

Setting: Act 1 and Act 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

One-shots

Clumsy - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act I, before Astarion confesses to being a vampire. Tav has always been a little clumsy, but it was nothing too inconvenient until Astarion came along. Since then, whenever Tav’s blood would spill, he would be there.

Part of his plan - Pairing: Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act II, just after the tiefling party. Astarion was sure that being indispensable to Tav was the best way to secure his place by her side. And this is where his sewing skills would come in handy.

A welcome distraction - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act II. Astarion was not nice. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning. But perhaps, given the right incentive, he could be persuaded to be nice to the one person who he felt deserved it most.

Honeycomb - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. Set in the beggining of Act II. Astarion had a brilliant, fool-proof plan. And nothing, especially not a piece of honeycomb, would get in the way.

Yours, if you'll have me - Pairing: Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act II. Astarion found the letter on the ground between his tent and Gale’s earlier this morning. Not thinking much of it, Astarion swiped it, hoping to get a piece of juicy gossip. Gale having a secret admirer, how fun! He didn’t realise that the contents were meant for him. And from their leader, no less!

Upon reflection, I find you perfect - Pairing: Astarion x female Reader. Set post-game. You find a way for Astarion to see his reflection for the first time in over 200 years.

A sound judgement - Pairing: Astarion x female Reader. Magistrate Astarion AU (Elf Astarion, No Cazador). Astarion was bored and you were the only acceptable source of entertainment. Luckily for Astarion he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him.

Two-shots

Brunch - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. AU two-shot (no Cazador, elf Astarion). Another, better emotionally equipped male would probably just ask Tav out. Like on an actual proper date at a nice venue rather than sticking to their monthly meeting for brunch as a pathetic excuse for spending time with her. But that was the crux of the problem. Astarion had absolutely zero clue as to how to be in a relationship.

Batstarion Week 2024

My headcanon is that spawn Astarion can turn into an adorable bat. Here are some drabbles exploring your and Astarion's life post-game for Batstarion Week 2024.

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 1 - Falling asleep in unusual places

Batstarion Week 2024 -Day 2 - Cuteness aggression

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 3 - High fashion

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 4 - Cameo with another character

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 5 - Feeding your Batstarion

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 6 - Bat cuddles

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 7 - Any prompt (Happily Ever After)

Augustarion 2024

Interconnected drabbles and one-shots celebrating our favourite rogue. Mostly reader (You) x Astarion.

Augustarion Day 1 – Strawberries 🍓 In which Astarion didn’t steal these for you, he just wanted a taste.

Augustarion Day 2 – Pool Party 🌊 In which Astarion shows you exactly why you shouldn't be insecure.

Augustarion Day 3 - Apron 18+ MNDI In which Astarion takes care of you. And I mean sexually.

Augustarion Day 4 - Mythologies In which your love isn't a cautionary tale.

Augustarion Day 6 - Cream In which Astarion complains that you have a hero complex.

Augustarion Day 7 - Underwear In which Astarion has been embroidering cheeky messages on your underwear in elvish.

Augustarion Day 14 - Protective In which Astarion is reminded that he is not alone.

Augustarion Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard In which a spell gone awry turns Astarion's shirt into an unusual, yet formidable weapon.

Augustarion Day 28 - DILF 18+ MNDI In which you won a bet and were granted a once in a lifetime opportunity - to see into your future.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[fruitcoops]

Debut

Day 5, ft. our black-cat lucid-dreaming king. Characters belong to @lumosinlove (sorry not sorry for what I did to your favorite boy) and header belongs to @noots-fic-fests!

Yesterday's movie: It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! (1966)

TW for mentioned movie-murder (nobody actually dies)

Regulus spared the glass double-doors hardly a glance before wrinkling his nose. It was hot out, sticky and steamy, and the direct sun pummeling the entire courtyard reeked of early September. Busy chatter ran rampant around him between flashes of color and blurry faces.

“I’m dead,” Regulus said decisively.

Next to him, Leo rolled his eyes and caught his tennis ball on the downswing. “You haven’t even been to first period.”

“This—” Regulus gestured at the main building, blindingly bright and stuffier than any high school had the right to be. “This is hell. Ergo, dead.”

“Tell me again in pre-calc and I’ll believe you.”

“You tested out of pre-calc,” Regulus reminded him, laying back on the hood of Leo’s car. The blue paint was unspecific and unassuming, almost black in certain lights. “And that’s an ugly sweater you’d never wear.”

Grey cotton switched to thick stripes by the time he looked at Leo next; the stupid silver chain remained around his neck. Leo frowned down at himself. “I like this sweater.”

“Hmm.” The characters didn’t tend to care whether Regulus interacted with them much or not. The plot plodded on until he shook himself awake or the blare of an alarm did it for him. It rarely came to a conclusive end.

“Natalie got a phone call last night from some weirdo on the landline,” Leo continued, tossing his ball back up in the air. “They were talking about…I dunno, I think he was asking her questions? Sounded like a guy, anyway.”

“Horrifying.”

“Kasey’s going over tonight with Finn’s brother to keep her company.”

Regulus stretched his back against the windshield and looked to the vast sky. No matter how far he tilted his head back, the old tin roof was always visible. It was a mutated version of his memories—he hadn’t tried very hard to remember what it looked like from the outside. Sirius had excelled there. Every professor remembered his name.

A thread on his baggy jeans was coming loose. If he allowed the dream to progress, Leo would no doubt call him later to inform him, distraught, that Kasey and Finn’s brother (whose name slipped Regulus’ mind constantly) and probably Natalie had died in some explosively gory fashion. It would be distressing despite the fallacy of it all, he’d drag himself awake, and then it would be three o’clock in the morning and he would be sweaty with adrenaline. Regulus had enjoyed the party at Leo’s new house. He’d prefer not to pay the cost of attendance (a rare seasonal hangover) before he absolutely had to.

Denim-on-denim warned him of a new presence before he could actively pick a new story. “O’Hara.”

“Babe, is he bothering you?” Finn’s voice dragged and drawled with California haze. Under his arm, Tremblay narrowed his eyes at Regulus. His bubblegum gave a violent pop.

“Not too bad,” Leo said playfully.

Did Finn even own a denim jacket? God, he probably did. Even Regulus’ imagination couldn’t have pinned something that specific from nothing. Maybe he should just let the rest of this murderous Riverdale-ass nonsense play out in its original form to punish that fashion nightmare.

“Can you wear a hoodie like a normal person?” he yawned. Apparently, he was overtired even in his sleep.

Finn fixed him with a comically disgusted look. “Why are you even here?”

Where the fuck had Regulus picked that accent from? “This is my high school,” he said. “I spent the whole night at your house, can I have some peace and quiet here?”

Logan popped another bubble. His scowl held far too little legitimate danger; if nothing else, that would have tipped Regulus off. The original outright animosity had rested much heavier on him than teenage pouting.

But there—on the steps. “Calisse de crisse,” he muttered, swinging himself down from the hood of Leo’s car.

The courtyard was almost perfect under his feet, as if he was feeling the asphalt through his old loafers. He had hated those goddamn shoes. He came to a sharp halt, right as his shadow fell across lined paper marked with meticulous, infuriating lines.

“Go away.”

Sirius blinked up at him. “Hi.”

“Stop,” Regulus insisted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why?”

“We didn’t go to high school together.” Honestly, it was so embarrassing for his brain to mix it up this badly. Valley-Girl Finn O’Hara was a nightmare in and of itself; the least his imagination could do was keep track of a timeline. “Put your physics away and leave.”

Sirius’ brow creased. “How did you know I was doing homework?”

“Unlucky guess.”

“How did you know it was—"

“Because you’re always doing your fucking physics in my nightmares!” Regulus dragged a hand down his face and gripped the back of his own neck. It felt like nothing, not even air. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face toward the clouds. “Yes, I understand, I hated the classes Sirius excelled in as an extension of my own complex inner world, merci, au revoir.”

When he looked down again, Sirius was gone. Remus Lupin leaned on the railing by the bay windows, looking out over the river. He had a book in one hand and a bloody knife in the other.

Regulus stared at him.

“No.”

It was Leo when he blinked. A dark robe and everything, and that tennis ball instead of a book. His face got a little fuzzy in profile, but cleared up when he looked at Regulus head-on.

Regulus tipped his head back and forth. “Better.”

He walked with Leo through the never-ending halls. Some were direct rip-offs of his actual high school, down to the navy lockers and their silver buckles. Others had been borrowed: a staircase from elementary school, a music room from Steinhardt, the artificial glow of Sirius’ basement skating rink around a corner. His stomach swooped at the sight of the broken dumbwaiter he and Sirius had used for hide and seek, and he ground his teeth hard.

He had his loafers on. His khakis were tight on his thighs. Leo’s footsteps made no sound.

“I think you’re supposed to be a serial killer,” Regulus noted on their third circuit of the second floor. “With a mask and everything.”

“Oh.” Leo sounded almost disappointed. “I mean, I could?”

“I might just be bad at imagining that.”

“Should’ve stuck with Lupin,” Leo agreed.

“I can go off and find him—”

“Don’t leave me here,” Leo groaned, walking backward for a few floppy steps that made him look more like himself than he had the whole time.

Regulus huffed. “Neither of you pose much of a danger to me.”

“I think we do, in a way.”

--

No.

The thought was forceful enough to pull Regulus to the surface. He exhaled hard, blinking fast until his left eye decided to get with the program and open properly.

The stove’s electric clock told him it was just past two in the morning. Not bad.

He sighed. His feet, tangled in the fresh sheets Leo had laid out for him, still felt too compressed. That explained the loafers. He could get up for a few minutes; make a snack, take a walk around the still-sparse main floor of the house. He didn’t hear anyone else up yet.

Or he could stay here, burrowed in a quilt that smelled lightly of magnolia. The sheets let his legs free when he stretched, still shaking off the scent of bubblegum and industrial cleaning solution. He was tired. Perhaps a little drunk, enough to dull the oncoming throbbing behind his temple. The sugar rush was long dead.

Regulus tucked his nose down into a butter-yellow square and shut his eyes. Being asleep was an exhausting business. He had too many questions. There was too much to nitpick. Too much psychoanalysis to avoid.

The sheer audacity of Leo to pull some therapy trick in Regulus’ own dream. As if he wouldn’t be aware of it, as if he’d fall into the trap that easily. Regulus muffled a frown in the quilt. If Leo, the real one, was an actual danger to anything but the occasional low doorframe, he wouldn’t be on the foldout in the first place. Really, it was just lazy writing.

Do better, Regulus thought as he shuffled deeper into his cocoon. From the top, this time.

[snek-panini]

Happy Halloween! Have a book:

This is Siren's Song by @kedreeva (Hi! I asked to bind your fic months ago, sorry it took so long XD). It's an incredible Good Omens siren AU, which needs no introduction from me but it gets one anyway. It's one of the most in-character fics I've ever read, tackles a lot of the most resonant themes of the original (love in the context of aromanticism and asexuality, human labels in the context of non-human perspective), and has incredible world-building. Later parts of the fic always make me cry but they're good tears. You'll see. When I first learned that fanbinding was a thing and started looking into how to do it, this was one of the first fics I thought of. It just took me a while to learn the skills I needed before I could do it.

More pics and process talk under the cut!

So the cover up there is black faux leather and momi paper that I bought...about two years ago? And just kept on hand till I was ready to do this project. This is the first time I've worked with it and it was fairly nice, though harder to get a nice crease into than lokta or chiyogami. It felt very fragile when I was handling it but I didn't have any issues with tearing or glue bleed-through like I thought I might. It did bleed some color when I got it damp with the glue, and it took way longer to dry than normal, but once that was done it's been fine. Which is nice because I have a lot left over, so it'll probably be making many future appearances in my binds.

Look! It's rounded! I got a backing setup recently and this is my first time using it. It was Very Hard and I am not very good at it yet. But I think it looks pretty good for a first attempt, and there was really no other way to mitigate the spine swell on this one. I used a thick paper so I've got a thick book. I also tried something new with the case, though it isn't visible. Usually I make the text block and the case separately and then attach them as the last step, but for this one I actually built the case around the text. Like, boards attached to mull/tapes (sandwiched between thinner boards, with grooves cut for them so there are no bulges), then covered with momi, then leather corners and spine, then paste down the endpaper. It's got an oxford hollow, too! The tapes and mull actually wrap around the outside of the boards instead of the inside like I've done before. Endpapers are my favorite feather chiyogami. Combined with the marbled momi they make for a very opulent look, and I had just barely enough to do this. Like, down to the millimeter. I had to trim the edges and then glue the endpapers after to be sure they were right. I'm glad they were, because I didn't have a backup plan. Handmade endbands, colors picked to match the cover. Also, last note, I got the corner bits right for the first time. Measured properly, with no weird pointy bits that come out at funny angles. Very proud.

Title page and bookmark/interior shot. Did you know that some basic fonts in MS Word look different when you use a huge font size? Because I didn't until I made this title page. That's Parchment for the title, and it only gets those swirly bits around the capital letters if you take it to 26pt or higher (I used 72 here). Now I wonder if any of the other fonts have easter eggs in them like that. The ribbon is very fancy, to go along with the rich endpaper/cover combo. I think it's pretty appropriate for a mythological golden age of piracy story, as are the text ornaments:

Chapter header image, chapter end image, and section break image. It was a very image-heavy typeset. I was originally planning to only have a header and a section break, but I couldn't decide whether I liked the ships or the book/shell/feather better, and they both suited the story so well that I just went with both. Again, opulent, but I think it fits. All the images came from rawpixel, all I did was resize them.

There was a small error in the trimming process. Comes of having to calculate so closely the exact amount you can trim off, that you have to trim off so your slightly-too-small endpapers fit. I think something got misaligned when I poked the sewing holes because only the first signature is like this. The rest of the book has a more appropriately-sized margin between the page number and the edge. I got very lucky here, and I know it, and I'm never cutting it this close (lol) again. Next time we just order another sheet of chiyogami.

And that's it! I have one author's copy and one new bind in progress right now (that's taking a while because I'm learning more new stuff for it), and then I have two Christmas gift books to do, so it might be a bit before I have another book to share.

[frozenjokes]

Hermitdragons Masterpost (Wings of Fire x Hermitcraft/Third Life AU)

Grainshifter (Grian) was born to the Nightwings under one full moon, giving him the power to read minds. However, as fortold by Nightwing seers, he also possesses animus magic, a power that the Nightwings will use to bring their tribe into greater glory, becoming Watchers that feed off the strong emotions of the other dragon species, particularly fear. When Grainshifter attends Jade Mountain Academy in disguise as a Skywing called Grian, the Watchers take notes, and years later they surprise him with his very own death game featuring all his friends.

hello hello! this fic is on hiatus, and while I would like to finish it one day, it is my first foray into fic writing basically ever, and my writing has improved dramatically since a year ago when I started to write this. It’s been a while since I’ve reread this, but I have been told it’s good! lol. However! There’s still a lot of content (70k words and SO MUCH ART) so let’s get into it!

Fic One - Ruler of Everything

After Grian betrays Nightwatcher secrets to one of his best friends, Scar, he is punished by the Nightwatchers and placed into a death game with all of his past friends from the academy. However, there are two dragons he does not know; Scott, a Seawing who seems mostly normal, and Martyn, a dragon whose mind he can not read at all. Whose mind no one can read. Whose body can not be manipulated by animus magic. Soon, it is clear that Grian is not the only dragon here that is being punished.

Fic Two - Mechanical Hands (this fic does not exist but in theory it would after the first)

Grian comes to terms with his relationship with the Nightwatchers, finally realizing and accepting that they do not love him, and only want to use him. He teams up with Martyn in a shared goal of destroying animus magic, but a massive problem still stands; they’re both still stuck in these death games. And their friends are still under the Nightwatchers’ magical control. As the games go on, things are starting to feel hopeless, but revealing the secret of Martyn’s immunity to animus magic that he has so desperately tried to keep might just be the solution these trapped dragons need to escape.

Beyond these summaries, I’m going to try and keep these story explanations brief, however, if you’re interested is All Of The Art + commentary + more story explored through the art, then you can keep reading under the cut :) also just as a warning there is a lot of undetailed cartoon blood below

Designs

before writing, these were my first pass of most of the designs in the series! As you can probably tell from the references of the main three characters at the top, Scar, Grian, and even Martyn have changed quite a bit, and if I ever return to this series, other designs will probably change as well. Except Joel and Bdubs. Those are peak. The biggest change from these designs, is that Jimmy is not actually a dragon in this fic!(which is why I included the third picture with him, Scott, and Grian) He is super human, and he dies first for A REASON. He just looks the way canon Jimmy does, minus the wings.

Full Pieces

I made two fully rendered pieces for this fic. To the left is a scene from the academy where Pearl, Ren, and BigB are play fighting in the mountains while Grian and Scar watch. Grian is very uptight in the academy, struggling socially, and his friends, painfully aware Grian comes from a bad home situation and possibly raised in a cult, are trying to help him relax and have a nice time in school while he has the chance.

On the right is a scene from far into the death game, where Scar is overtaken by the magic of his red life, and is threatening to force Grian to kill all three Dogwarts dragons, and at the same time, blowing himself up in the process. The dragon on the left is Skizz and I hate his design, however the little tie thing is hilarious.

Chapter Headers

I made a ton of headers for the chapters of this fic, though most of them are broken on ao3 as far as I’m aware. However, you can see them here!

dragons featured in order of appearance: Scar, Pearl, BigB, Grian, Martyn, Scott, Jimmy, Ren. This isn’t actually every header but I’m going to run out of images and these cover most of them. The ones I left out aren’t anything special.

Mini Comics + Misc Art

I have literally run out of image slots. But that’s okay (most of the stuff was covered, but if you want to scroll through the hermitdragons tag then feel free). Hope you enjoyed regardless! This series is still very close to my heart, and even though I kind of lost touch with it, it’s something I still love dearly. Thanks for reading :)

[raibebe]

Moving foreward

Genre: fluff Words: 2.457 Prompt: Samoyed hybrid Jeno x fem. reader

Warnings: unspecific allusions to childhood trauma, allusions to genetic modification

A/N: MY BABY IS BACK! And more baby and insecure than ever because this is set very early in the story and we get to learn some of his background! Bonus points for everyone who can guess which game he was playing. Also please appreciate the header, I ripped my hair out for streamer Jeno.

Hybridverse masterlist

“Wow, I can’t believe they’d just end it like that,” Jeno shook his head, falling back into his chair as he stared blankly at the ending screen of the game he had been playing on stream, “I need answers. This can’t be it. I know this isn’t it.” “We missed a few clues in the mines and the hospital I think,” he read a comment from his chat, “The mines were so creepy, you can’t blame me for that,” he whined, his ears flattening into his fluffy hair, “I was busy not getting that annoying girl killed even though she deserved it for being an absolute ass.” At that, his chat broke out in laughing emotes. “Am I wrong though?” He giggled, closing the game and enlarging his facecam for the viewers instead, so they didn’t have to look at the menu screen. For the cozy atmosphere that he was always striving for, he pulled up his curated playlist of calming videogame soundtracks. 

 “So… I kinda didn’t think we’d be able to finish so quickly, so I don’t really have anything else planned,” he admitted, “We could just jump into some other game real quick but I’m not in the mood for any shooters right now and I might launch myself out of my chair when I get jumpscared again.” He scanned the chat for good suggestions for a little while, his eyes darting over to the clock at the bottom of his screen. It was already quite late and the last half an hour of that game had been way too intense. So maybe he could just cut the stream early today and just get some extra cuddles. That would be nice. He’d very much like some cuddles. And maybe some ear scratches. 

 “Will you be playing ‘No home for us’ once it’s out?” He read out a question from one of his mods. “You know actually,” Jeno sighed, nervously picking at his cuticles, he knew that this question would be coming up sooner or later and that his answer might be unexpected. “I won’t.” Before he could even explain himself, his chat exploded with messages and confused emotes, the messages coming in so fast, twitch was barely able to buffer all of them. “Wait, wait wait, let me explain,” he asked, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts, “I think the game is going to be great. From what I’ve seen in the trailers and promotional videos, it’s going to bring attention to lots of valid concerns regarding us hybrids and the graphics are absolutely phenomenal. But… But I think the story will hit too close to home for me. I don’t think I’d be in the right mindset to play this and for my mental health, I’ll refrain from playing it on stream. Maybe I’ll take a look and play it in private so I can tell you guys my thoughts on it at least. But I really can’t do this on stream for my own safety.”

 The tone of the chat messages immediately turned from confused to concerned at his words. The game was supposed to be a heavily story-based game following the journey of three different hybrids and it had been praised to high heavens because of that. But especially the story of the female cat hybrid had made the hairs at the back of Jeno’s neck stand up just from seeing the promotional videos and the behind-the-scenes the company had sent him because they obviously wanted hybrid content creators to talk about their game. It was eerily similar to his story even though hers would probably be even more dramatic for obvious reasons of storytelling and would only have a happy ending if you made the correct choices throughout the game. And Jeno already knew that if he were sitting alone in his streaming room, he’d go insane with anxiety over every little choice he had made because he needed this potential happy ending to happen or he’d just end up crying. 

“I- I’ve never really spoken about my story and how I ended up here but I know some longtime followers have probably a good understanding of it,” Jeno mused, sipping on his Redbull just to get a sense of comfort from having the stupid metal straw in his mouth. A coping mechanism - and a comparatively healthy one or so his therapist had told him.

 “Yeah, my story sadly isn’t the one of the golden retriever hybrid,” he laughed uncomfortably, “No privileged background despite my breed. I- I actually grew up in a shelter for most of my life and I’ll always be incredibly grateful for how good care I was receiving there, the social workers really did their best trying to take care of me and all the others.” “Prestigious breed,” Jeno read the comment flying past, his head tilting in confusion, “What’s that even supposed to mean.” He could only snort. Unsure if he should be angry and tell this person off or if he should’ve just ignored the comment to avoid fueling the discussion further. “I mean I guess Samoyeds are on the rarer side of Hybrids but there’s more to it - to me - than that. Multiple factors go into adoption and- Maybe I should do a whole video about this. With a dramatic title and all.” Jeno cut himself short with a giggle before he could get worked up about it. Some people - humans - just didn’t know what life was like for lots of hybrids. Especially the younger humans who didn’t know much about the history and the continuous fight of Hybrids for basic human rights. And while it was seen as normal for Hybrids to attend college and school nowadays, they still had a long way to go until they’d reach true equality.

“Our family just took in a cat hybrid the other day from a shelter and it has been such a process and a half.” “I’m glad to hear that”, Jeno smiled, “Not that it’s been so hard but that you decided to take someone in need in. And I  hope you’ll take the time and effort to try to understand them and learn if they need any special care so you can provide for them. I should really just make a video on this since you’re always so interested in anything hybrid matters. And you really seemed to like the last video where my girlfriend helped to test just how good my sense of smell really is.”

“I’ve actually thought about telling my story multiple times but- But it’s really not a pretty story. And I never wanted my platform to be about me as a person but rather about the games and just having fun and making your days better with it, maybe making some fun content about hybrids with my friend but that’s it. And I already know that if I end up telling my story, people will be nasty about it and tell me that I’m only doing it for attention. But at the same time, this obviously is a huge part of my life and why I am the person I am today and maybe I can do something good for the community if I use my platform to call attention to things like that.”

 A soft knock on the door pulled Jeno from his train of thought, his head snapping to where you quietly slipped into the room. Despite the heavy topic feeling like a weight pressing down on his chest, he couldn’t fight the smile that spread on his lips nor how his tail started wagging. “Hi puppy,” you whispered, mirroring his smile. Making sure that your face was out of the camera shot, you stepped into the frame, letting Jeno pull you close with a grip around your waist. “Thought you might need some company,” you explained yourself, shyly waving to the viewers who were welcoming you warmly. “I’m okay,” Jeno promised, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with your comforting smell. “You think it’s a good idea?” “Telling your story?” In lieu of an answer, he simply nodded, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. Smiling, you playfully scratched beneath his chin, always endlessly endeared with his puppy-like mannerisms.

“I think it could be a really good thing. To shine a light on some stuff people don’t really talk about and to make people pay attention to things they didn’t know existed,” you spoke your mind, “But it will also make you very vulnerable and I don’t know if you feel comfortable doing that. It’s- It’s a heavy topic just like you said and I don’t know what it’ll do to you mentally if you revisit that time.” “So you’re saying that I shouldn’t do it,” Jeno asked, his brows pulled together in a frown. “That’s not what I said,” you smiled, gently rubbing your thumb through the crease to make him stop frowning, “I know you’re much stronger than when we first met and that you grew so much as a person in such a short time but these memories are- they’re traumatic and you know I hate nothing more than seeing you distressed or in pain.” 

With a glance to his chat that seemed to just be filled with his cute samoyed heart emote, Jeno took a deep breath, giving in to the urge to bury his face in your stomach, nuzzling into the comforting smell of your laundry detergent and something just inherently you. “I asked Doyoung for my files a while back. I have them here but I didn’t have the courage to look into them.” “Do you wanna do that?” You whispered, carefully taking his headset off so you could card your hands through his silky hair and scratch your nails gently against his scalp and along the base of his ears to relax him. “I think I do,” he whispered back, “I wanna do this. I need to know.” “Then I’ll be here to support you,” you smiled, resisting the urge to kiss the crown of Jenos head to keep your face off of the internet, “For every step of the way.” “Love you,” he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt but you were so used to hearing the words from him that you understood them anyways. “Love you too, pup.” Playfully, you pulled his chair off-screen, swallowing his surprised yelp with a sweet kiss. “I have to end the stream,” he sighed against your lips but contradictory to his words, he stole another kiss that you couldn’t help but smile into, butterflies erupting in your stomach like it was the first kiss you shared. “I’ll wait in bed,” you promised, carefully rolling Jeno back into the frame of his facecam. 

Smiling fondly, you watched him stumble over his words with a pinkened face as he said goodbye to his followers. “I- Uhm- Yeah. Oh god,” he giggled, putting his hands on his cheeks to cool down his burning face, “Yeah. I- Like. Uhm. Bye?” At his flustered stuttering, the heart emotes in his chat were replaced by laughing emotes and only then did Jeno notice that his mods must have changed the chat to emote-only mode possibly due to the comments either being mean or it becoming so many, they couldn’t monitor all of them for his mental health. “We can leave the emote-only mode now I think,” he smiled gently, “Everyone, say thank you to our mods for keeping this a safe and positive space.”

“How dare my favorite streamer make me feel single,” he read out a comment, immediately feeling more blood rush to his face, “Well, yeah for those who don’t know or haven’t suspected, that was my girlfriend and I guess we’re going to try and figure out more about my story and stuff… And eventually, I’ll post a video and share as much as I feel comfortable. To… You know raise awareness and actually use my platform for something else rather than getting jumpscared by scary-looking creatures in an old asylum.” “Hmm, yeah, I don’t know what we’ll do on Friday yet. I have to see if Haechan and Chenle are free, so we can play keep expanding our base in ‘The Forest’ and get some more exploring done for once. Yeah… Oh no, I absolutely haven’t forgotten that Chenle betrayed me and left me by myself with that crazy mutant. I’ll get my revenge.” “So yeah, we’ll let you guys know beforehand if the terrible trio will get together on Friday or if I play something by myself. There is this new ghost-hunting game I wanted to give a shot. But until then, stay safe, be kind and don’t forget to stay hydrated. Bye bye, guys.” 

Smiling into the camera and blowing a kiss to it, Jeno turned off his stream. Sighing, he slumped back into his chair for a bit, staring at the empty overlay of his streaming software. He was really going to do this. With his heartbeat picking up and his blood loudly rushing through his veins, he slowly reached out to the bottommost drawer of his desk. The drawer was empty, safe for two things: A thick, light brown file with his name written in Doyoung’s neat handwriting and the stamp of the shelter and an almost sterile-looking white one that just had the number 423 and a logo that resembled DNA splicing printed in black ink. The brown file didn’t worry him too much. Doyoung had already told him that it was mostly his medical records, court cases and documentation of his past failed adoptions. The white file on the other hand gave him chills just looking at it. He didn’t have many memories from when he was a young child - trauma-blocking his therapist had called it - but he could for some reason vividly remember the DNA splicing logo and it was enough to make him sick to the stomach. Gritting his teeth, he picked up the file to put it on his desk. Between all the dark equipment in his room, it stood out like a sore thumb. It clearly didn’t belong here. But whatever was documented in there, it was part of Jeno, no matter how much he hated it. “Tomorrow,” he whispered to no one but himself, pulling his lower lip between his sharp teeth. Tomorrow, he was going to ask you to sit down to look through the file. 

Tonight, he only wanted the comfort of your touch. And if he was demanding to be the small spoon that night, scrolling through Twitter to see the cute clips his fans had made of your visit to the streaming room, that was between him and his browser history. 

[fantaatix]

it's moxxie day

you know what that means

i remember having a moment after i saw this calendar when the full moon first came out because aww look blitz makes time for his friends outside of work

and then i had another moment once apology tour came out because if that episode takes place on october 31st, full moon might take place in september, specifically in 2023

and if THAT's the case, then september 10th could very well be moxxie's birthday!! cos he's a virgo!!! yippee!!!!

okay that's not all this post is about but i didn't have it done in time for the weekend (fever things yay)

usually when i make these posts they pop into my mind as a header and the header for this one would've been "you ever notice how moxxie has trouble with running?"

but obviously that's kind of a boring ass post on it's own so i also talk about strengths/weaknesses, specifically in moxxie's case

"moxxie has trouble with running?" yeah, i think it's a fair claim

i'm pretty sure he has the most time spent running out of the entire cast, actually, but i'm cutting this post really close to midnight and i'll be damned if this doesn't go up on MOXXIE DAY on the MOXXIE RANT ACCOUNT during VIRGO SEASON

evidence:

murder family

-you can hear him panting during this little shot but it isn't heard when he runs back to the house later in the episode

loo loo land

-panting isn't heard but it's certainly seen

harvest moon

-emphasized how much trouble he has keeping up with blitz and striker

-i won't count the panting here since he was literally just being choked out but. running!

also, kind of unrelated: striker is literally backing him into a corner before this. scratches the door, closes it, backs him up against the desk--you know, signs someone's about to attack you?

but moxxie's still caught off guard, even though he mentions having an "instant dislike" of striker on first meet, and even though he's very skilled at dodging most projectiles.

so it's not that he can't detect oncoming danger, i think it's that it depends on the context in which the danger comes at him. moxxie can't tell that striker is intending threaten him through body language alone, he needs to go into a fight knowing that a fight is going to happen in the first place.

in cherub, the cherubs literally pull out angelic crossbows so it's fair to say moxxie's guard was up as soon as they got hostile. and also they all just indulged in blitz's wonderful mannerism of intentionally pissing people off for the sillies (and sometimes for the not-so-sillies), so he probably saw this coming anyways.

in truth seekers, blitz tackles moxxie to the ground so he doesn't get shot, but it only takes the portal being closed for him to go into fight-mode. in a similar fashion, blitz only tries to fight the agents after moxxie is shot with the tranquilizer. otherwise he's running away.

where did you learn parkour, little man.

but my last backing points about the running thing which kind of ties into what i'm saying here;

mission: antarctica

-they're all running from the hoard of penguins but moxxie falls behind millie and blitz

-millie seems to take notice of this and helps him run up the steps saying "mox, come on!"

think about that for a second. that doesn't seem like a line they wrote in initially, it sounds like something they added in after they saw the storyboards. moxxie falling behind isn't a detail super important in the context of the short, but could be an important detail overall.

especially if you compare this to the heist scene in exes and oohs. difference being chaz didn't stop to help moxxie but millie does.

so yadda yadda yadda, you could blame this all on coincidence but i think it's an implied struggle. solid "your curses are your blessings and vice versa" kind of thing we have going on here. your flaws are often correlated to your strengths.

to build on that idea, moxxie's an accurate and precise shooter but he lacks in physical strength compared to millie and blitz. moxxie's very agile (dude literally has no scars) but he has trouble running for long periods of time. he's great at finance and filing paperwork but it doesn't seem like he enjoys it.

he's got all these great skills but he has low self-esteem and an inferiority complex.

back on that striker point from earlier, moxxie's not so great at reading the room but he's pretty great at reading individuals.

-first meet with striker and he already has an instant dislike of him.

-gets thrown into jail and gets celled with a stranger but has an instant trust of him because he mentions his daughter.

-the ENTIRE drug trip sequence from truth seekers??? that almost 1-1 read he has on blitz, especially compared to blitz's interpretation of moxxie in HIS drug sequence? do you get what i'm saying here?

HMM i wonder why that might be??? surely not an ability he developed from his childhood??? or after being used/abandoned by chaz??? and all that quality time with his Papa??? surely not??????

okay i got it all out. happy birthday you little gremlin freak