#also the little padded leg-seat thing was nice for sitting. i have been thinking about it a lot recently hfbvshfv

[keeps-ache]

[oh the original sketch btw cuz why not :3]

they're like shiny knickknacks to me

[actuallyitsstar]

headcanon asks for Maverick: 4, 9, 13, and 20 + Goose?

✨ send me a blorbo + a number for a headcanon! ✨

⇢ 4. driving headcanon

i remember reading a fic once quite some time ago (for the life of me i cannot find it or remember what it was called or who it was by) where post-reconciliation mav and bradley need to go somewhere in kind of an emergency and mav gets into the drivers' seat of the bronco. and bradley is like woah. hold on. i thought mom always said you couldn't drive??? and mav is like, no, she said i shouldn't drive, which is Different (tm). and then proceeds to give bradley the most harrowing ten minutes of his life. and boy if that doesnt summarize my thoughts on mav's ability to drive, then tbh, what does 😅

no but seriously. he does probably drive kind of terrible. not like, unsafely, or in a way that is like. Actively Harming people or something, but if you are a passenger in a car maverick is driving then you are aware of the 'oh shit' handles and you are using them. he's always liked to go fast and he's always felt Pretty Confident in his own reaction times and ability to maneuver and he is not going to prioritize a few minor traffic laws over Doing What He Wants.

also, he taught himself how to drive when he was a teenager because no one else was doing it, probably in a vehicle owned by a foster parent whose car he was not authorized to be driving and he definitely got into trouble for this and paid for it later. due to this, he didn't actually get his license until much later than that- after meeting goose, in fact. my personal favorite take is that goose had to help mav with actually getting his license (stuff like when to signal and when to check your mirrors for merging and what types of turns/parking/etc the instructor was going to ask him to perform during the driver's test), though mav new how to drive physically just from getting into a car and figuring that shit out. i like to headcanon that mav had a permit for his motorcycle before this, though i'm not sure that it makes much sense realistically, because i know that most states these days require you to have a driver's license before you can even consider having a motorcycle permit (let ALONE a motorcycle license), but hey, i don't really know how to find out about the motorcycle permit laws in the late 70's in california or wherever they were at the time, so. i have taken creative liberty, lol

⇢ 9. general physical contact headcanon

hands down, in my opinion, mav is a physical person. he spent the majority of his childhood without it, and he gained somewhat of an aversion to it when he was young. outside of the context of the occasional romantic escapade, he did not experience any physical contact after his mother passed that wasn't negative, except for a few nice foster families that he didn't have the blessing of staying with, and even then, those are bittersweet memories, because they were brief and padded by worse things, and it's a little melancholy to think of what ~could have been~. so, admittedly, he's relatively opposed to the idea of physical affection of any sort by the time he meets goose. in fact, he's pretty much opposed to all affection by the time he meets goose. it's what defines their initial meeting and their first few flights together. mav is determined to shake goose off of his tail, to fly so fast that he loses him somehow, even though they're strapped into the same aircraft. he's cynical and certain that the entire world is out to get him, and goose is just the opposite.

goose is a sling-an-arm-around-your-shoulder, sit-on-the-couch-leg-to-leg-close with your friends, ruffle your hair in a slightly-annoying-but-also-endearing way as a greeting, hug-you-tight-before-you-say-goodbye-even-if-we're-both-men-and-it's-the-80s kind of guy. it's just another thing that initially makes mav raise his hackles and lash out. it's not because mav is diametrically opposed to this kind of affection. in fact, arguably, he craves it, and he's never had it, and physical touch is one of his primary love languages (platonically and otherwise). but goose is persistent and kind and fierce, and he's the kind of guy to find a lost kitten on the side of the road and decide right then that he's keeping that cat forever, no matter how much work it is, without even considering what it's like to raise a cat- only in the context of goose's life, the cat is Maverick and the rest is history. goose breaks down maverick's trust issues and fear and loneliness slowly and determinedly by just being himself and treating mav how he would want to be treated because that is his nature, and because he doesn't give up. mav learns to be a good friend and a dedicated member of a ~family~ from goose, and it's because mav already is a good person who has love to give, and goose is the first person to encourage and not punish him for it.

in the context of life, even after everything- after goose dies, through bradley's childhood and teenage years, through his developing friendship with the flyboys and being woven continuously into the family by carole and later the others as well, even after losing bradley, after meeting hondo- mav remains a tactile person. it's one of his primary ways of showing affection. you can see this in the movies- how often he and goose sling an arm around each other, grab each other's shoulders or arms, the way he sits with his arm around carole in the diner, the hug to ice at the end. and in tgm, too; in the hug for sarah and for ice, the hand on ice's leg and the laying with penny and talking and the (of course!!) multiple hugs to bradley at the end. it goes both ways, too; it's one of the more important things that the others can do for mav, that he'll process and understand.

plus, mav can find a way to misinterpret or talk himself out of even the most direct affection/compliment/etc, but he will understand a hug, or a hand on his shoulder. it's the primary thing that used to calm him down in the midst of a panic attack or after a nightmare, the first thing he'd reach for in greeting getting home off a deployment, the primary language that he speaks in relationships. in a way, he passed this along to bradley, too, by participating in making the bradshaw-and-company family so tactile, though perhaps it's a little less natural for bradley due to his own years of self isolation. but he was always sure to make certain bradley knew he was loved, in words and in actions. he never wanted bradley to grow up unsure of such affection, like he himself did.

there's a long span of time when mav is alone, for the most part. after bradley leaves, before the mission. he has the flyboys, but they are all scattered and confined to just letters and phone calls most of the time. more consistently, he has ice, but there is the distance and the lack of postings nearby and the increasing business of his wingman's life as he is moving upward through the ranks and meeting and marrying sarah and having kids. there is hondo, with whom he becomes very close, but hondo is not the most physically affectionate person, and mav knows how to respect others' boundaries in that regard. it's not until post-mission and post-reconciliation that he is fully able to unpack his ways of thinking and loving, to begin living a life where he gets to love and be loved consistently again.

with bradley, with the daggers, in his rekindled friendship/brotherhood with the other flyboys, many of whom are retired or moved on to other careers but who are happy to catch back up with the little found family they'd built over the years. maverick is a hang-off-your-shoulder-why-he-tells-you-a-story, hugs-in-greeting-and-goodbyes, rest-a-hand-on-your-arm-or-at-your-back, squeeze-your-hand kind of person, because he always has been, and also because it's the love language that makes sense to him, that he's always known how to speak and understand, that he learned from the other half of the single most influential relationship of any context (other than being a parental figure to bradley but that is Different) he's ever experienced, the one that still defines so much of his adult life even three plus decades later. it works out very well for bradley, who is desperately touch starved after fifteen years of self-isolation, and who is still reveling in the concept that it turns out mav loved him the entire time and the whole mess was of his own creation, and lives in disbelief of that love and affection all the time. he can overthink and twist-into-anxiety anything that mav says, just about, but there's only one way to interpret a hug. he and mav have that in common- as it turns out, much to his chagrin and also his comfort, they have a lot of these things in common, after all.

⇢ 13. nickname headcanon

mav is not necessarily the type to give new nicknames to people he knows, but he is absolutely the type to use people's nicknames. always ice, never iceman and almost never tom, usually sli instead of slider and never ron, care instead of carole. he's full of even more nicknames for bradley, though, and that came from goose, actually- goose was absolutely the originator of all the nicknames and terms of endearment. it was honey and hotshot and kaz (a nickname for ice that ice "hates" but does in fact allow with minimal glaring). goose is the creator of half the names that bradley gets- baby goose and brads and gosling. mav just keeps using them, and more of them, of his own creation, eventually sneak into his vocabulary, because he learned how to love and be loved via goose, initially, at one of the lowest points in his life, during the time that he was still formatively figuring out how to transition from a child to an adult, and their friendship shaped him forever. inadvertently, it means goose helped to shape bradley, too- since mav was there, and goose didn't get to be.

as far being called nicknames, he's alright with that. as long as he knows that it doesn't come from a place of making fun of him, or of distaste. if he senses that its in good fun or as an expression of friendship/good faith/etc, he'll lean into it. slider has long since bullied him with things like shortstack and trouble, for example, and he's allowed it. if it were a stranger and the tone were just a little different, well, he's started fights over much less. besides, mav is a nicknames sort of person, when it comes to his identity. he's never felt much like peter. "pete" was a scared, skinny kid with no designs on his own future, shuffled around with little to no positive experiences, defined by negative experiences and being duke mitchell's kid, the one who got thrown out of the academy and beat up in school and locked in the closet at the boys' home and chased out the front door of a foster home or two. he never did like pete very much.

maverick, though it started as an insult-turned-callsign-that-stuck, is dangerous and confident and sure of himself, capable and strong and cool. maverick is something that he became on purpose, that gave him agency. he pushed himself to become maverick and make the insult something of his own, to finally take control of his own narrative, because he couldn't control what people said but he could control what it meant- and that's been the name he prefers for a very long time now. very few people in the movies- even of the people who are civilians and not fellow officers- refer to him as pete. he is almost exclusively maverick or mav, and that is 100% by his preference.

⇢ 20. relationship with/thoughts on: goose

goose is and always will be mav's brother.

i read a post recently about how we as readers/writers/etc can do a disservice to the different kinds of platonic love and relationships that exist by trying to shoehorn all platonic relationships into a "they're siblings!!" archetype when there are so many other options out there, and i 100% agree with that- so i want to make it clear that when i say mav and goose were brothers, i mean that intentionally. mav and ice were best friends, ride-or-die, dedicated and as close to each other as anything, but goose was mav's brother in all but blood, maybe even moreso than if they had shared dna. goose was genuinely the first person in the context of mav's adult life (and by that i mean after he finally got into the navy, which to him is the defining line between his ~childhood~ and adulthood) to treat him with respect and love and kindness. mav learned much of what he knew about life and relationships and how to express and understand himself through goose, his older brother, the one who swooped in to protect him and teach him and stick by him, and he didn't even have the privilege of knowing goose that long- as we know. they met and they fell into their relationship fast. it took a while for mav to warm up to goose, of course- but setting even that aside.

and, well, we all know how mav feels about goose, these days. i know someone, in real life, who did lose a sibling when they were both young, and it really is much the same thing. goose still defines a lot of the things about mav, and the memories of him and their time together are still some of maverick's favorite. he still looks at something and thinks "goose would love that", he still has an experience and wishes he could tell nick about it, he still lives his life with the concept of goose right there by his side, even though the man has been gone for thirty some odd years. of course everyone handles grief and loss differently, but it makes me think of the experiences and people i have seen and encountered/read about who have lost siblings, too- the permanence of brotherhood, even in the wake of the impermanence of life.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 III {finale} || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} {𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 II}

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : some part of you thought that maybe you could get through this without ever having to really talk about your feelings, or the future, or all those things you were pretending didn’t matter.  but they matter, and they can’t go unspoken forever.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 11.7k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (semi-public sex aka car sex), some possessiveness, angst, fluffffff way too much fluff, violence (mentioned), mentions of serious injury, military references, relationship discussions, choking (non-sexual lmao it’s just on food), minor character death (in a flashback kinda, not graphic)

You glanced over at him as he stared out into the road ahead, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking your skin.

The weekend getaway had been his idea, but he let you pick the destination.  You picked a cabin in a cute little seaside town, something relaxed where you could spend the whole weekend in bed together and not worry about the rest of the world for a little while.

But you were still in the car, so you were still worrying— specifically, worrying that this felt sort of like a boyfriend and girlfriend thing.  And that itself wasn’t so bad, but it made you feel like the ‘what are we?’ talk was inevitable, as was that talk going poorly.  You could picture it now: I like spending time with you, he’d say, one of those things that sounds like a compliment but really means you’re worth it as long as you require no effort and stay out of my way.

And you’d just nod and pretend to be okay with it because you were in too deep now to break it off.  When you were together, you were so happy that you couldn’t imagine ending it; and when you were apart, you missed him so much that all you could think about was the next time you would be together.

We’re happy now, why do things need to change? he’d say, one of those things that makes sense until you really think about it and understand that it just means why would I care if we’re moving forward or not?  I’m already getting what I want.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, and he glanced at you quickly.  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, squeezing your thigh.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“You expect me to believe that?” he chuckled.  “You’re overthinking again, I can feel it.”

“You can feel me overthinking?” you confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he nodded.  “I can tell your mood very well by now.”

“Alright, then why ask me what I’m thinking about if you already know what I’m feeling, mind reader?” you challenged.

“You’re sighing because you are bored from being in the car so long,” he decided, “and you’re also noticing that you’ve never dated anybody who drove such a nice car before.”

Does that mean we’re dating?  “Anything else?” you smirked.

“And you’re wishing I would move my hand a little higher.”

Before you could react to that, he moved his fingers up under your skirt, gripping your thigh tightly until you breathed another sigh— one very different from the last.

“Am I right?” he grinned.

“Spot on,” you breathed, whimpering a little when one of his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.  It was subtle, teasing, and yet it was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your thighs to clench together which he noticed easily.

He tutted in faux disappointment when his finger moved down to find a wet patch in the fabric.  “Oh, wet already… what are we going to do with you, draga?”

Whatever the fuck you wanna do with me, you thought, but when your lips fell open thankfully only a little moan fell out.

It was impossible to complain about the risk of distracted driving when his fingers slipped into your panties and explored your folds— yet you were about to complain when he pulled his hand away, until you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, quickly getting a taste before reaching under your skirt again.  As if that wasn’t hot enough, he growled a bit when he pushed two fingers into you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you whispered, making him smile proudly.  He only ventured the fingers inside you briefly, sliding them out slowly to brush the rough pads of them over your clit and it made your whole body shudder— he pressed down, drawing slow circles, until you were biting back whimpers and pleas for more.

He kept on teasing you, only reaching as deep as he needed to to lightly press into your spot before slipping out to rub your clit and then start the process all over again.

“You’re so…” you panted.

“Hm?”

“You’re so mean,” you hissed.

“Am I?  I can stop if I’m bothering you,” he offered.

“N-no!  I… I just need more, please,” you groaned, yelping a bit when he pinched your clit roughly.

This time when he filled you with his fingers, he twisted his arm to go a bit deeper and kept his thumb on your clit, your soaked pussy making it easy for him to pump in and out at an increasing pace.

Your eyes fell shut as you gripped the seat beneath you, rocking your hips up against his hand for more.

“Ohh, fuck, Helmut, I’m gonna come,” you warned mindlessly.

You only opened your eyes when you felt the car start to shift, looking over to him as he checked the road before pulling over off the side and stopping near the wooded treeline.

“Wh-what are you��?” you mumbled, cut off when he put the car in park and grabbed your face to kiss you roughly.  You held the wrist by his hand that held your face, moaning against his tongue, still not sure what he was up to but already on board.

“Get in the back, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, and you nodded dreamily as you broke away and awkwardly climbed into the backseat; he followed soon after, pushing you back against the leather and sliding his body between your legs; holding you close, kissing you harder.

It would have been reasonable to expect that the small space would make everything more uncomfortable, but instead it just made it hotter— like there wasn’t room to be anywhere but pressed right up against each other, like the only place he could rest his hands was on your body.  You felt totally helpless to his dominating and open-mouthed kiss, to his thick hands tugging your clothes out of the way while you blindly attempted to open his belt.

You reached into his trousers and found him already incredibly hard, wrapping your fingers around the silky skin and grinning when he cursed under his breath.

A bit hasty with your desperation getting the better of you, you guided him to your entrance and began to slowly push your hips forward— but he held your thighs and did it for you, sliding in in one smooth stroke.

This angle seemed to force him even deeper, and you clutched his shirt in weak fists as he pushed all the way inside.  “H-Helmut,” you breathed as he started to move, not quite sure if it was a plea for him to slow down or never stop.

“Fuck, say my name again,” he demanded.

“Helmut,” you repeated, giggling when he kissed your neck on a spot that sort of tickled a bit.  

“One more time,” he instructed; you could feel his grin against your skin, alongside his teeth grazing your pulse.

Just as you started to say it he fucked you harder all of a sudden, just to make you choke on it.  Soon you were saying his name like a prayer, over and over until you worried you’d lose your voice and he had to kiss you to make you stop.  “Say you’re mine,” he pleaded softly, right against your lips, “like you did the first time.”

You felt shame pang at the back of your head, a strong instruction from what was left of your logical mind not to do that.  But for all your mind’s protests, your body was already his and already bending to his will.  “Yours,” you moaned, “Helmut, I’m yours…”

“I know,” he breathed, nodding slightly as he kissed you again, “I know, baby.”

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his hips, holding him closer as he stayed deep inside you, barely letting him pull back to thrust though he still managed regardless.  The bottom of his shirt was rubbing against your clit (consequences of only half-undressing for a quickie) and it made your back arch until you couldn’t push your body into his anymore.

Embarrassingly quickly, pressure began to build inside you, your moans getting louder as they echoed around the inside of the car.

“Will you come for me, draga?” he purred, a low growl against your neck where he had moved his assault of wet kisses.  You nodded quickly, holding onto his back tight and biting down on your lip a bit too hard.  His hand held your neck, thumb running over your jaw, and in a way it soothed you, but it also sent you tumbling over the edge all at once   You barely choked out his name as your attempt at a warning, as if it weren’t obvious just from the way your channel seized up immediately.  “Good girl,” he cooed lowly right against your ear, “so good for me, don’t stop.”

You couldn’t stop so long as he kept his pace— not nearly as fast as you were used to, much more measured and patient, and yet it ruined you in a way nothing else could.

It was much too sensual for the backseat of a Lexus.  Much too delicate and loving for two people who weren’t even in a formal relationship.  Much too perfect to ever forget, irritatingly enough.

He kept his eyes open to watch your face closely as he came inside you, admiring every detail of your face twisted in pleasure— a tear even fell down your temple and he softly brushed it away— before it all slowed down to a stop and you were just holding each other.

Once you both cooled off for just a second, he pulled you close and rolled you around so he was sitting and you straddled his lap, keeping you in an embrace while he kissed your neck and shoulder.  “So beautiful,” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You wanted to tell him that you meant it, that you were really his.  That it wasn’t just dirty talk (and you weren’t even sure if it qualified as ‘dirty’).  Even if he rejected you, at least it would be off your chest.  

But you chickened out; and in your defense, if there’s any time to have a talk with a partner that might end up awkward, right before a weekend trip is probably the worst time possible.  So, it was strategic aside from just pathetic.

“We’re already going to be a bit late,” he noticed, lifting his hand over your shoulder to look at his watch, “is it alright if we just stay like this for a while before I get back to driving?”

You nodded sleepily against his shoulder and he grinned, kissing your cheek.  “Maybe you can rest here in the back after that…”

And you did, drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms.  You only partially roused from your sleep when he carefully pulled out of you and laid you down gently, the sound of the car starting coming a few moments later.

He had to keep his eyes on the road, but he wanted so badly to watch you sleep in the rearview mirror.  

“So, what did you think?” you smiled expectantly as you turned from watching the credits roll on the TV to looking at where he sat beside you on the cabin’s big fluffy couch.

“Eh,” he shrugged.

“What?!” you squawked.  “You just experienced an American classic!”

“American classics, in my experience, are aggressive and boisterous and… greasy,” he explained.

You snorted.  “How can a movie be greasy?”

“I meant the food—”

“Oh!  We should watch Grease!” you realized.

He grumbled something in Sokovian to himself as he rubbed his forehead, and you laughed in relent.  “Fine, I won’t make you watch anything more.”

“No, I like watching movies with you,” he decided, “but maybe the next one can be a bit more… subtle.”

"The next movie we watch should be Sokovian," you suggested.

"There aren't many Sokovian films… the constant war was pretty hard on the cinema industry, believe it or not,” he scoffed.  “We managed to make a lot of porn, though.”

“Well then maybe we should watch some of that,” you smirked, and he laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh no, it’s awful.  Plumbers and lonely housewives, cops pulling women over, that sort of thing,” he dismissed.

“Cheesy porn tropes, you say?  Like, perhaps, a professor and his student?” you pressed, leaning in to run your fingers playfully over his open collar.  “So unrealistic.”

“It was different with us,” he decided.

“How?”

“It wasn’t for a grade, we never used the term ‘oral exam’...”

“Mm, maybe we should have,” you purred, hopping up to straddle his lap and trace your finger over the chain of his necklace that was just barely exposed under his shirt.  “It’s sorta sexy.”

“Really?  Oral exam?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  “Makes me think of the dentist.”

“Oh, so you don’t think dentists are hot?” you joked.  “Who doesn’t like latex gloves and drills in their mouth?”

He laughed, and although you were sort of trying not to seem totally desperate, you just couldn’t hold yourself back from trying to kiss that smile right off his face— thankfully he didn’t seem to mind, humming a bit against your lips and placing his hands on your back to hold you closer.

Just when you thought he would deepen it, he pulled back slightly.

“Wait,” he mumbled against your lips, pushing you back gently to break the kiss.  “It was… different with us, right?”

You shook your head slightly, confused as you struggled to remember what he was talking about.  “What?  Yeah, of course.”

Hastily pressing your lips back on his, you were all in but he was clearly distracted, only half-heartedly kissing you back; you could all but taste his hesitance and it forced you to pull back and look down at him again.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

“Oh, uh, nothing’s wrong,” he assured, “I just… I was just thinking.”

“...what were you thinking about?” you asked when you realized that was the end of his sentence.

“I was thinking about what you said a few weeks ago, on my birthday— that you liked that I’m so much older than you.”

“Mhm?”

“You’re not…” he started and began again.  “This isn’t just… about that, for you, is it?”

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“I mean, is that what this—” he motioned to the space between the two of you— “is about?”

You frowned, a little sinking feeling already forming in your gut.  “I don’t understand,” you spoke, but your fear was more that you understood him completely.

“My English isn’t good enough for this,” he sighed.  “Sometimes I worry that this is… something you do.”

“That what is something I do?” you asked, a bit more pointed than you meant for it to come out, but you really just needed him to say it.  

“Date older men,” he finally finished.  “Seduce professors, I don’t know, whatever you’d like to call it.”

You straightened up and got up off of his lap, stepping back.  “Seriously?  You think this is, like, my kink or something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he clarified, standing up with you, “but I’m asking in case I’m wrong.”

Maybe on some level, you could appreciate that it was a reasonable question.  After all, you had been sort of wanting to ask him if he made a habit of seducing students— but you didn’t because you knew it would be horribly offensive, which is why it was so aggravating that he was doing it to you now.  In these months together (but not together together), had he not learned enough about your character to realize you weren’t in it for anything but him?  “I told you I haven’t even dated that much before you,” you reminded him firmly, crossing your arms.

“And I believe you, I’m not accusing you of anything—”

“It kinda sounds like you are!” you snapped.

“And it sounds like you are getting defensive about it, which makes me worry even more!” he shot back, and you wondered if you’d ever heard him raise his voice before.

“Well, don’t worry about it, because it’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re not even dating anyway.”

Just as you started to walk away, not even sure where you would go when you were staying here with him (a walk outside, maybe, just to clear your head and be somewhere that he couldn’t see you cry?), he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, please,” he breathed, and only because he sounded so broken-hearted did you turn around.

“What?” you sighed, showing your irritation in lieu of your heartbreak.

He took a quick breath, collecting himself before he spoke again.  “I don’t mean to be invasive and I certainly don’t mean to be controlling,” he explained, “I just… I want to understand what you want.  From me, specifically.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “that might be a more complicated question than you realize.  With a complicated answer.”

“I have time, I have the rest of the weekend," he decided.  “Just tell me that this isn’t only fun for you.  If it is, then… then I’m glad you had your fun, and we can have fun together here, and then when we get back to the city… we can go our separate ways.”

“And if it’s not?”

He swallowed, looking away briefly before stepping closer, reaching up to cradle your face in his palm.  “If it’s not just fun, then… then we need to have a different conversation.”

You cleared your throat nervously.  “What conversation?”

“I need to know first,” he insisted, “or it would be wrong for me to tell you.  I don’t want you to spare my feelings, draga, I just want the truth.”

What you really wanted was to know his feelings first so you could spare your own, but he was so adamant on making you speak first, his gaze desperately searching your face as you tried to avoid the heat of it.  “I…” you began, not sure what to say.  You knew what you wanted to say, you just didn’t know how, exactly.  Looking up into his eyes again, you took a quick breath and started over, trying to ignore your heart racing inside your chest.  “It’s not just fun, Helmut, or a bucket list thing or a ‘trying something wild and crazy while I’m still young’ thing.  I’m serious about this… but, you know, if you just wanna stay casual I understand—”

He cut you off with a kiss, sudden but not quite desperate; rather relaxed, actually, and you melted into it as his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close.  

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. 

“You— what?” you gasped, pushing back slightly against his chest.

“I love you,” he repeated.  “It’s not just fun, it’s not a bucket list thing or a midlife crisis thing— I love you, I’ve been in love with you for weeks and couldn’t think of what to say… I was afraid to smother you, you wouldn’t be wrong to want more freedom than you can have with me.”

A shaky breath moved in and out of your lungs as you looked away from his gaze— it was too wonderfully all-encompassing for you to be able to process this with his eyes on you.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you,” he mumbled nervously, “but I can’t change how I feel.”

“No, it doesn’t… it’s good,” you smiled, starting to laugh.  Your heart was beating so heavy you could hear it in your ears, you could barely even hear yourself speak as you answered him.  “Helmut, it’s— I love you too, of course.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Really.” 

He kissed you again, harder, and neither of you could stop smiling through it.  "Say it again," he pleaded softly. 

"I love you," you repeated.  "I love you, Helmut."

“Mm, one more time,” he encouraged with a soft laugh as he lifted you into his arms and began to carry you down a familiar path to the cabin’s bedroom.

“I love you I love you I love you I—” you had to stop to gasp when he bit down on your neck, not too hard but still quite surprising, before he tossed you down onto the bed and pounced on top of you.

“Is it fair to say that we’re dating now?” he presumed, making you laugh.  

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So it’s just us, you and me, girlfriend and boyfriend?” he continued.  “Nobody else?”

“There was never anybody else,” you promised.

“I know, and now there never will be,” he cooed, placing a kiss right on your ear.  “You’re all mine now.”

A shiver ran up your spine instantly.  “God, how do you do that?  Go from sweet to filthy in a split-second?”

“Mm, a habit of mine,” he hummed, “because it makes you all cute and whiny.”

You frowned as he kissed your nose.  “Hey!” you, proving him right, whined; he laughed and held the back of your neck as he kissed you again.

Just the sex that followed that conversation would’ve been enough to make this an amazing weekend, but it was even better to leave the vacation as a couple when that wasn’t even how you’d started it.  

Afterwards, you laid together in bed and commiserated how silly you both had been to assume the other didn't want more, deciding from now on to be open and honest as much as possible.  That was what inspired you the next day to spend the morning trading secrets over the breakfast he'd made.

"I cheated on my eighth grade Spanish exam," you admitted, making him put down his fork in pretend shock.

"��Chica traviesa!" he gasped.

"Maybe if I'd actually studied, I would know what that means…"

"Truthfully, I can't judge you.  I did something similar in my primary studies,” he recalled.  “I broke into the teachers' desk and stole an early copy of the exam.  But I didn't use it myself, I used it to impress a girl in my class."

You smiled trying to imagine that.  "I can see you as the romantic type when you were a kid," you hummed.

"I was more the rebellious type, with girls being one of the more reliable ways to rebel."

That piqued your interest, and you gave him an excited grin of anticipation.  "Did you have a punk phase?"

"It was Eastern Europe in the early 90s: of course I had a punk phase," he chuckled.  "How else do you celebrate the end of a brutal capitalist revolution but by importing every Western record you can find and dying your hair black in a petrol station's bathroom sink?"

"Oh my god!" you giggled.

"But it was rather minimalist, I wasn't permitted much stylistic freedom so it was little things like that… I wanted an ear piercing, but my mother would've truly had a heart attack."

"I guess you're better than I was,” you shrugged, “my rebellious phase was brief but with a much stronger willingness to sacrifice my mother's sanity."

"Yes, that's more typical," he nodded.  "I suppose my real secret was that I didn't want to rebel from my parents nearly as much as I thought I did… I just wanted to make them happy."

You smiled at him as he stared down at his plate.  "You sound like a sweet kid."

"Horrifically stupid and a bit self-involved but sure, sweet," he agreed with a chuckle.

"So, all our secrets are out, huh?" you grinned.

"Perhaps I have a few left," he smirked as he leaned across the table to kiss you softly.  "I'm saving them for a rainy day."

The weekend went by much too quickly, but you couldn’t begrudge the return to daily life now that you were returning to it together— so far, you’d found that together was the best way to experience life. 

Almost as fast as the vacation, so went the seasons as well: you both had classes through summer, and you enjoyed the freedom that came with a much more empty campus; fall, as always, was damp and chilly yet comforting— sometimes the leaves turned just the right color of brown before they fell to remind you of his eyes; winter sent you back home to see your family for the holidays, just for a few days, and you told them you’d bring your mysterious boyfriend next time even though it made your heart race to imagine that.

Your birthday passed at some point during the year, and he took you out to one of those slightly-hipstery barcades where he revealed his secret talent for skeeball— you were glad he felt comfortable completely annihilating your high score even on your birthday.  He invited your friends, too, and it went significantly less horribly than you imagined; they only asked him weird questions about being a professor a few times, but otherwise everyone got along oddly well.

And soon it was another spring again, one of your last ones before you graduated, and you let yourself focus on things other than what might happen when you left the university and he almost certainly stayed.  For now, you just needed to worry about how you’d ever find time for each other during finals season when both of you were busy for different reasons.

           Dinner tonight?  I have a reservation at 7 for a place in the museum district.  They have a dress code so wear something evening ready if possible.  -Z

you don’t have to sign your texts you know.  I know it’s you.  it says your name right above the text.

           It’s more formal this way.  -Z

it’s a text message, it will never be formal??

          Will I see you at dinner tonight or am I in trouble for asking over text?  -Z

I’ll be there

          I look forward to your company, draga

hey, you didn’t sign it!  progress!

         -Z

goddamn it

“This place is… really nice,” you noticed sheepishly, glancing around at the minimalist-yet-luxurious decor of the restaurant while you took your seat across the white-linen-covered table from him.  “Like, significantly nicer than I’ve ever been to before.”

“Well, you look like you fit right in,” he assured, and you almost believed him— it was the nicest thing in your closet, but still seemed like the wrong energy compared to how him and everyone else seemed so casually flawless.  “I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he explained as he poured water into your glass for you from the basin at the table, “I was going to make you order the salmon anyways, it’s really impeccable.”

“What’s the occasion?  I’m still feeling spoiled from the anniversary celebrations last month.”

You two had decided to celebrate a year since the day you’d met (and had sex for the first time; it was an action-packed day) instead of the day you had officially began your relationship, since there was no reason to commemorate months of pretending to be casual while you were both quietly devoted to each other.

“I just want to have a nice date with my girlfriend, is that so terrible?” he smiled.

“No,” you answered quickly, “but that’s a load of bullshit.”

He chuckled a little.  “You’re right.  I wanted to do something nice with you before I go.”

“Yeah, that’s not ominous at all,” you frowned.  “Care to elaborate, international man of mystery?”

The conversation paused briefly as the server came by with your meals, and you gave him a little nod of appreciation before he left; the salmon did look pretty amazing, and you trusted your boyfriend’s taste even if it was often more refined than your own.

“I need to make a trip home in the next few months,” Helmut finally clarified.  “Nothing particularly interesting, and thankfully all very temporary— boring estate management stuff, comes up every once in a while,” he shrugged.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound as needy as you felt.

“No more than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you yelped.

“You know I’d never leave your side if I had the choice,” he smiled.  “It’ll go by in a moment, you might not even notice I’m gone.”

“Are you kidding?  I practically live at your apartment.  We probably haven’t spent three days apart since we met.  Hell, we have sex, like, five times a week!”

You heard the chatter of nearby restaurant-goers die down, and you awkwardly looked around to find some of them staring at you as Helmut tried to suppress his laugh.

“I… may or may not have forgotten we’re in public,” you whispered harshly as most of them seemed to get back to their own conversations.  “Let’s not eat here again.”

“Oh, would you like to announce our sexual frequency anywhere else?” he joked, though his tone remained as serious as ever, and it made you laugh even though you were the butt of the joke.  “Olive Garden, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you demanded between hiccups of laughter.

“The Texas Roadhouse?  I’m sure they would love that,” he continued.  “They seem like a real liberal crowd.”

“Stop,” you snorted, trying to catch your breath and not laugh too loud in front of all these people who already had a poor impression of you.

“Or we can go to the drive-through at Taco Bell and you can tell them through the little speaker thing,” he offered, and you hid your burning face behind your cloth napkin.

“You’re mean, I was just trying to say that I’m gonna miss you if you’re gone for so long!”

He leaned across the table to grab the napkin and slowly pull it down from your face, smiling at you when he could see you again.  “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.  “We’ll have sex fifteen times when I get back, for lost time.”

“That’s not really my issue,” you sighed.  “I mean, yeah, we’re still definitely gonna do that, but that’s not what I’m gonna miss most.”

“I know,” he nodded, “don’t think I’m going to do anything but miss you terribly the whole trip.  In fact, that brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Telling me you’re leaving for three weeks isn’t the main topic of discussion?” you realized.

“It was, but now I’m here with you and it has me thinking all sorts of things,” he explained.

“Okay… what are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

“Well, I was just thinking that I don’t want to keep you from living your youth while you can,” he answered, looking back at you as you took a sip of your drink, “but that I’d like to marry you.”

Just like that, you inhaled some water and began coughing and choking.

“Hypothetically!” he blurted out, leaning forward to make sure you were okay but you waved him back into his seat.

“I, uh,” you began, coughing one more time before you started again, “I didn’t think that was what you were thinking about.”

“Well, clearly,” he mumbled.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were thinking about that at all,” you explained, “like, I wasn’t sure that we were there yet.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice when I told you not so long ago that this year with you had been the best of my life,” he recalled, making you smile a bit to yourself at the memory.  “I’m there.  I’m just asking where you are.”

“I guess I need to think about that,” you lied.  You didn’t need to think about it, you knew that he was talking about exactly what you wanted, but you needed to convince him you were taking this question seriously— god knows he was constantly worrying that you shouldn’t be tied down to him when you were so young, and although you typically handled that by making a bondage joke (and he typically handled that by making a non-joke bondage offer), you didn’t want him to worry about this.  

“Maybe you can think while I’m on my trip,” he decided, “and when I come back, we can talk about the future.”

“I just meant for, like, a few minutes,” you admitted.  “I don’t need that long, Helmut.  I know what I want.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“To be with you, whatever that looks like,” you said, sounding more confident than you thought possible.  “That’s what I want.  And I don’t wanna hear you saying anything about how you think I might be too young for marriage or that I might change my mind later… I have a right to love just as much as you, and to know what’s right for me.”

“And it’s me?” 

You smiled as you reached for his hand where it rested on the table, squeezing his fingers in yours.  “It’s you.  Obviously.”

He looked at your hands held together before he smiled back at you— but it faded suddenly, and he pulled his hand away to lean back in his chair.  “There’s something else I should tell you, before I let you say too much...”

You swallowed thickly.  Oh god, here it comes.  Secret family in Canada, glue-sniffing addiction, absurdly specific and disturbing fetish… the wheel of misfortune was already spinning in your head, and you took a bite of your fish to try to look natural.

“You should know the truth about my family, back in Sokovia?  We’re, in a certain sense of the word… royalty.”

You started choking again; why did he keep telling you this stuff while you had something in your mouth??

“Shit, are you alright?” he asked nervously, and you nodded in spite of your fit of coughs.

“Are you a prince?!” you spat out as you started to catch your breath again.

“A baron.  A little less romantic, I know,” he smirked.

“And if… if what you’re talking about, actually happened, then that would make me…” you trailed off, raising your eyebrow expectantly.

“My baroness,” he finished for you.  Funny enough, the word my was doing more for you than the royal title.  “Hypothetically.”

“You keep saying that word,” you noticed.  “I hope we think it means the same thing.”

“Maybe a better word would be ‘eventually,’” he decided, and your back straightened because oh shit, this is really going to happen.  “Maybe an even better word would be ‘soon.’”

You almost choked again, with no excuse this time as there was nothing in your mouth to actually choke on.  “H-how soon?” you whispered, and his lips curled into a mischievous grin as he lifted his drink.

“Sorry darling, I don’t think I can tell you that,” he decided as he took a sip slowly, still staring you down over the rim of the glass.

You shifted nervously in your seat, trying to imagine how you were supposed to be anything but jittery after this conversation. 

“Can I ask an inappropriate question?” 

He raised his eyebrow.  “Let’s try not to scare the other patrons again, but sure.”

“How rich are you?” you blurted out, and he laughed a little.

“Somewhere between ‘outrageously’ and ‘ludicrously,’” he decided.  “It might seem a little far-fetched considering I prefer not to live extravagantly here in the States… but we’ve made good use of the last dozen-or-so generations of wealth.”

“And you let me pay for lunch last week!” you remembered, leaning forward to smack him on the shoulder with a scowl.

“That’s all you have to say about that?” he realized bewilderedly.

“It’s all that I can process right now!”

“I should apologize for not telling you sooner,” he nodded.

You paused as you stared back at him.  “I sorta thought you’d continue with that by explaining why you didn’t.”

He sighed, looking away.  “I spent so much time worrying you were only with me in pursuit of a new experience with an older man.  And then if you knew how much money was involved… I didn’t want to jump from one insecurity to the next with you, if I could avoid it.”

“You’re insecure about being rich?  Next you’re gonna start crying ‘cause your cock’s too big,” you rolled your eyes.

Again, other diners turned to you and this time you looked back at them.  

“What are you looking at, huh?” you snapped, and they all stared back down at their plates quickly.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“If you could stop antagonizing the public, that would be ideal,” Helmut hissed.

“I don’t think I’m handling this very well,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands.  “I wish you would’ve told me before.”

“So do I, but believe me that I had my reasons,” he sighed.

You lowered your hands from your face to rest them on your elbows as you crossed your arms.  “I think if we are going to talk seriously about this next step, then you’re gonna have to tell me those reasons,” you decided.

“Right, of course,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he looked to the side.  “Well, I guess I should start from the beginning.  As good a place to start as any, yes?”

You wrinkled your brow; you weren’t sure why he was so clearly nervous.

“As you can imagine, I was born into the royal life, I didn’t have much of a say in it all.  From the time I was eighteen I was the 13th Baron in a line of Sokovian royals who controlled a certain amount of land.  In retrospect, I understand how incredibly fortunate I was, especially compared to the poorest people in my country, but at the time all I could appreciate was that it was stuffy and boring and allowed for none of the adventure I longed for.  Hence the aforementioned punk phase, but that didn’t satisfy for long.  I suppose that was why I enlisted.”

“You were in the military?”

He nodded.  “Briefly.  I liked the idea of being a part of something that had nothing to do with my name.  And I was two years into my contract when my unit was stationed in a little border town, mostly farmland, but Sokovian borders are always contentious places… anyhow, one night, while another Lieutenant and I were on patrol, there was an ambush.  They shot at us, we shot back, but we were just firing into the dark so we went down rather quickly… I assumed that was the end, everything went black in an instant before I could even think…”

You shuddered, appreciating how traumatic this was for him as he looked down at his lap, stoic but in that way that clearly held more underneath.

“I woke up in a bed, in a cottage,” he recalled.  “A farmgirl heard the gunfire and waited until the enemy forces moved on to render aid.  She told me I was nearly dead when she found me but that her uncle was the local doctor and had been able to remove the bullets and stitch me up.”

“You told me those scars were from being attacked by a dog as a child,” you remembered.

“Yes, I didn’t forget the lies I told you,” he frowned.  “I think that one should be understandable.”

You swallowed, regretting saying anything.  “O-of course, I’m sorry.”

“The important thing is that she told me my partner was dead when she got there, and she couldn’t do anything for him.  I was in shock— keep in mind I was young and dumb and thought of myself as some kind of invincible— but for the next month she delicately nursed me into… at least decent health, and helped me cope with it all.”  He took a deep breath, a soft and somber smile crossing his face.  “I suppose you can imagine what happened next.”

He looked at you again and you gave him a shrug, unsure what he expected you to guess.

“We fell in love,” he finished flatly.

“Oh,” you nodded, “right.  It sounds pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, the wounded infantryman and the rural farmgirl… it was all very pastoral,” he sighed, “but anyways, my family was more than hesitant to allow me to marry a poor girl, which obviously only made me want to do it more.  I even told her that I’d leave the title for her, and she gave me some pitiful monologue about how she’d never forgive herself if she was responsible for me being disinherited, she pleaded with me to find a way to gain my parents’ approval… but I knew that we were in love and that nothing could stop us, so I didn’t think much of it.”

You tried to imagine him as a young, hopeless romantic, and some part of you was a bit jealous that others got the opportunity to experience that side of him when you didn’t; but it wasn’t like he was exactly cold and hardened now, at least not with you.  Just wiser, with more experience and more scars.

“My parents had put their foot down and demanded I call off the engagement.  And, oddly enough, they told me that it wasn’t her social standing that bothered them but that they simply didn’t trust her.  That they thought I was being rash and had only known her a few months— that I was too young, I would change my mind.  I was incensed; I mean, not only do they dare to insult my foresight, but this was the love of my life they were talking about like she was some conniving witch.  So I said some things I regret to this day, and I told them to keep their title and their properties and have me formally disowned at their earliest convenience.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Well, the truth, as it often does, came out sooner or later.  That all along, her love was for the money and not the man.  When I told her I’d left my title behind for her, she… didn’t take it very well.  And by that I mean she slapped me so hard I saw white for a second.”

Your heart hurt to imagine him being treated like that.

“I told her that we would be poor but we would be happy together, she told me that she never wanted to be poor again, that the reason she did all this was to get out of this hellish farming town and live in a castle in Novi Grad.  I suppose I could’ve forgiven all that, after all I imagine she struggled greatly for a long time living that way.  But then she started ranting about how she didn’t drag some dying Baron through the mud that night on the patrolway just to marry a poor man.  I was heartbroken just realizing that she knew who I was when she saved me— that she might not have if I were anyone else.  Like, say, my partner that night.”

Your chest was too tight to gasp properly.  “You don’t mean…” 

“She held out on me for a minute but I finally got her to admit it… the other man was alive when she found us, but she left him to die while she saved me, apparently planning from the very beginning to seduce me and escape to Novi Grad like she always dreamed of.  His name was Miroslav Pavlović, and he was a good man…  a boy, really, only twenty when he died.  Alone.  In the dirt.”

Hot tears on your cheeks made you realize you were crying, and you awkwardly wiped them away in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

He took another deep breath and seemed to reorient his mind, away from the mourning and back to his story.  “Of course, I, being a young man with all my pride, told my parents that I ended it in respect of their wishes, but I think my mother suspected what really happened.  Especially when the girl went ahead and married my cousin.”

“She what?!”

“An industrious young woman, I have to give her that,” he nodded.  “She didn’t need a Baron, she just needed somebody who could get her out of the farm and into whatever her idea was of a luxurious life.  And yes, it is exactly as wonderful as you’re imagining to see her on those rare occasions where the extended family all has to gather.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled.  “That’s… cold.”

“I suppose it all worked out for the best— I dodged a bullet much worse than the ones that hit me before I met her, she got her riches and noble husband, and my parents were free to arrange a marriage for me with a woman of more adequate social standing.  I was so convinced I was terminally unlovable that I actually went along with it.”

“You married her?”

“No, I just agreed to, on the condition that we meet a few times first, at least.  It was the second time we met when she confided in me that she was actually a lesbian.”

“Oh!” you chuckled, hoping it wasn’t inappropriate to laugh a bit.  Not as his misfortune, per se, or at the idea of a lesbian in general, but just the way this story seemed to get more complex at evey turn.

“Yes, well, my family was more liberal but hers were not the sort who would respond well to that news… I considered going through with the marriage to give her an alibi, so to speak, and the both of us would quietly have affairs with women— ideally different women— to keep up appearances for our families.  She and I actually got along alright, we thought maybe we could be good friends, which some husbands and wives aren’t even when they marry for more genuine reasons.”

You scoffed as you nodded, “yeah, true that…”

“But,” he shrugged, “I got cold feet, I just couldn’t bring myself to resign to an entire relationship built on a lie again, so, I decided to leave it all behind and study at a German university— I chose history because I’d consumed historical nonfiction voraciously throughout most of my life and it seemed like a good fit, and I suppose it was the right choice… because here I am.”

You took a long, deep breath, but you didn’t feel that much more stabilized afterwards.  “Okay, a lot to unpack with that,” you announced.  “I understand why you didn’t tell me about the money, with everything that happened before… but you lived this entire life that I knew nothing about.  You already know everything about me.”

“I couldn’t tell you much more than I did without burdening you with it.”

“Sure, but you can appreciate that this puts me in a sort of vulnerable position,” you offered.

“Right,” he agreed.  “That was, of course, never my intention.  I don’t tell anyone the things I’m telling you now, understand that.  Everyone at the university thinks I came from much more humble beginnings and has no idea about my military service— well, except for that one royal historian who unfortunately recognized my name, but I’ve been bribing him into silence from my first day.”

“Wait, you pay him off?!”

“Oh, god no— I just grade his final term papers,” Helmut shrugged.  “But still, I got pretty comfortable with my reinvention, weeks go by without me thinking about my life before this.  Especially with you… sometimes I thought maybe it would be better to quietly abandon it all and become the person you thought I was.”

You smiled a little; maybe you wished that you knew how to be angry with him even in times like this, but you just couldn’t do it.  “You’re still the person I think you are,” you assured.  “Where you come from is not who you are, it’s just one of those things that help make you who you are.  It’s up to you to decide what you do with it… and I think you’ve done something pretty great with it.  Plenty of people who didn’t need to work for a living just wouldn’t.”

“I know it sounds nice, and I won’t pretend it isn’t an invaluable resource, but I find it much more fulfilling to work.  I really love what I do, so that helps.”

Nodding a little to yourself, you reflected on how true that really was; after all, this all began in a classroom where you were enchanted by his passion.

“I suppose the moral of the story is… I’m sorry that I hid things from you,” he concluded firmly.  “I’ve learned that I can’t protect myself from heartache and love you properly at once— I have to pick one.  I want to choose to love you, I want to choose that every day for… well, forever.  If you’ll let me.  But if the secrets are too insurmountable, I won’t judge you.”

You let out a heavy sigh.  “That’s the dilemma of love, isn’t it?  You have to be willing to get hurt.  But the last thing I want is to hurt you, I promise.  And in the end, it really doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor or a fugitive from the law or an alien from space: I love you, really.”

For the first time since he started telling you everything, he seemed to relax.  “I love you too, I hope that much is obvious.”

You nodded, reaching across the table to hold his hand.  “Yeah, it is.  I’m still getting used to that, honestly.”

“Not that I don’t mind being the first,” he tilted his head, “but it’s a shame no one ever cherished you before, in the way that you deserve.”

“You do seem to mind it a little bit, when you always go on about ‘keeping me from my youth’ or ‘restricting me when I should be free’ or whatever,” you recalled, putting on a poor imitation of his accent when you quoted him.

“Well, I guess it’s that I never desired to be the first,” he clarified, staring you down suddenly, “but that I intend to be the last.”

That look… you were already biting your lip and you didn’t even notice it.  “Okay,” you sighed.

“Hm?”

“You can be the last, just take me home,” you whispered, crossing your legs to hold your thighs together as your tongue ran over your teeth.

He could only bear to tear his eyes from you for a second as he called out, “The check, please!”

wanna come over later?  I can’t focus enough to study

You stared down at the text you’d sent Kacey, wondering if it made you sound pathetic.  You didn’t want to seem like the sort of girl who made her boyfriend her whole life, and therefore had no idea what to do with herself while he was gone.  And to be clear, it wasn’t loneliness itself that made you so listless; of course, you missed him plenty, but your inability to get anything done or even enjoy some alone time was disrupted by that sort of numb, shocked feeling you got every time you remembered that he wanted to get married.

Even more shocking: you wanted to get married.

It didn’t feel too soon, it didn’t feel all that sudden, but it felt like it should feel too soon, if that makes any sense.  Maybe you could try to explain it to Kacey if she ever checked her damn phone.

You groaned as you tossed the device away, knowing staring down the screen wouldn’t make her answer any faster.  Having already watched everything good on every streaming service ever, you figured your next step was to move on to the mediocre things on streaming, but you couldn’t decide between a show about renovating tiny-houses or cooking using only leftovers.

It was hard to focus on your choices when you kept playing the moment before he left in your mind over and over.

You nestled in under his arm around your shoulders, tightening your grip around his torso until you caught a glance of his watch.

“Don’t you need to leave soon?  There will be traffic on the way to the airport.”

“No, there shouldn’t be, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“What?  It’s at least half an hour.”

He laughed a little as he realized the misunderstanding.  “Darling, I’m not going to the airport.  I’m going to a private airport.  For a private plane.”

You cleared your throat.  “Oh… right.  Still getting used to the exorbitantly rich thing.”

“But I suppose I should finish my packing, I think I’ve put off the last of it long enough,” he sighed, sitting up and tearing himself out of your arms even though you were pouting about it.

Before he left he gave you a long kiss at the door, just meant to say goodbye, but then your knees went weak and he had to hold you and it all started to lead from one thing to another very quickly.

“Fuck, Helmut, your flight,” you reminded him breathlessly, holding onto his biceps as he kissed down your neck.

“They’ll wait for me, it’s my fucking plane,” he growled, grabbing your hips hard.  “I need to be inside you one more time before I go.”

Just as the best parts of the memory started to flood back, your phone rang and you jumped up instantly; the sound of 99 Luftballons, your custom ringtone for him that started as a joke but stuck for some reason, told you it was your boyfriend calling and it barely rang for a second before you answered.

“Hi!” you greeted instantly.  You looked at the clock on the wall and did some quick math to realize it was probably almost time for dinner there, when it was still before noon where you were.

“Hello, darling,” he answered back, his voice instantly soothing you as you leaned back against the headboard of your (his) bed.

“Your accent is stronger than when you left,” you noticed.

“This is the first time I’ve spoken English in days,” he explained.  

“How does it feel to be home?”

“Do you mean being in Sokovia, or talking to you?”

“Baaaabe,” you whined playfully, “you’re gonna make me all needy…”

“I just wish I was there to see the effect I was having on you,” he cooed.  “It’s been a bit boring without you— I’m going to bring you with me next time, I assure you.  Not just because I miss you so much, but so you can see the country.  I want you to see my homeland and there’s no one better to show you around than myself.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” you hummed.

“More than almost anything,” he answered, and you knew what he was implying he loved most.  “I know it has… struggled, it isn’t considered exactly a vacation spot by many, but it means everything to me.  I don’t have much family left for you to meet, but I’m sure I’ll find some people to show you off to.”

“I’d love to come with you,” you agreed, “you know I’d go with you anywhere, though.”

“And you need to try the ćevapi!” he added, and you could hear his beaming smile through the phone.  “Sokovian food is very different from Western dishes but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed dreamily, laying back on the pillow as you heard him sigh from the other end.

“God, I miss you,” he breathed, making you hum proudly.

“Miss you too,” you agreed.  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot…”

“Yeah?  I bet I can guess what you were thinking about.”

“Such as?”

“Things I can’t say right now, in case someone hears me,” he chuckled.  “We may not speak English much but they still understand it.”

“Well, I’m all alone,” you purred, “and I’ve been thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you when you get back.”

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t—” he pleaded weakly.

“I really wanna ride you,” you continued in a sultry voice you didn’t even mean to put on, “even though you’re probably too big for that, I just want you so deep in me I can’t fucking breathe—”

“You’re cruel,” he hissed, a low whisper, and you loved his helplessness.

“It’s been so lonely without you, Helmut, I’ve been fucking myself with every toy I can find but nothing fills me up like you do, god I just need your cock.”

“I should’ve had something custom made,” he decided, still whispering but you could hear him smirk, too.  “So it’s only ever me inside you.”

“Even then, it’s not the same… it has to be you, the way you fuck me is just impossible to recreate, nothing’s as good as you, professor.”

He made a strained noise and you giggled happily.  “How long has it been since you’ve called me that?”

“Too long,” you hummed, “I still think it’s pretty hot.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” he chuckled breathlessly, “listen, I have to return to my meeting, and you’ve made it impossible to focus on boring legal things now but I need to try my best.  Alright?  I’ll call you tonight, if you’re still awake.”

Of course, your tonight was his tomorrow morning; you decided not to make him worry by admitting you would stay up all night to be able to talk to him.  “Okay,” you sighed, “good luck in your boring legal meeting.”

He gave one last whispered ‘goodbye’ and the line beeped as the call ended; you sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at your ceiling blankly.

He’d only been gone four days.  How were you supposed to make it to three weeks?

When his plane landed, you were waiting for him in the car, parked on the runway; it was a much quicker process than picking someone up from a traditional airport, plus you got to run to him the second he was off the plane and it made you feel like you were in an old movie or something.

Throwing dignity to the wind, you jumped into his arms and let him spin you around, setting you down to kiss you hard as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, hands gripping your waist, and you’d been trying to imagine this moment ever since he left but you couldn’t have ever come close to how perfect it was.

“Missed you more,” you promised with a smile.  “Let’s go home, Helmut.”

“Or…” he trailed off, and you raised an eyebrow as you sank back down onto your heels and looked up at him.

“Or?”

“Or we could get back on the plane and tell them to take us wherever we want.”

“I-I have finals!” you gasped.  “So do you!”

“Not until next week,” he dismissed, “this is just for a few days.”

“I haven’t packed any of my stuff!”

“You have your phone, everything else can be bought when we get there,” he shrugged.

“What’s gotten into you?!” you giggled, looking back up at him wildly and wondering how he could seem so calm.

“I’m rich and in love and a little bit impulsive, is that so bad?” he smirked.  “Where do you wanna go, draga?  Rome?  Sydney?  Jakarta?  Nairobi?”

“...Luxembourg,” you blurted out.  

He chuckled a little, eyes sparkling.  “Why there?”

“First place I thought of.  Is that a good enough reason to want to go someplace?”

“It is to me,” he grinned.  “You get on the plane and get comfortable, I’ll tell the pilot where we’re going.”

“Okay,” you laughed.  “This is crazy, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded, taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs back onto the jet.

It wasn’t like you’d never experienced the concept of travel before, but it was still blowing your mind that you’d woken up in your (his) bed this morning and now, in the same day, you were spending your evening in box seats at the Luxembourg National Opera.  He picked out the gown you were wearing (only fair since he was picking up the tab) and at first you had worried you couldn’t pull it off, but the way he kept glancing over at you made you confident you looked just fine.

“You’re not watching the performance,” you whispered to him, leaning closer to his shoulder.

“You don’t really need to see an opera, do you?” he frowned.  “Can’t I just look at you?”

“These tickets cost an arm and a leg, you can look at me for free!” you hissed, but you softened a bit when his hand moved to rest on yours and he kissed your temple softly.

The two of you stayed that way for the rest of the performance, leaning on each other and holding hands.  Even when you'd been together this long, you still felt butterflies when he interlaced his fingers with yours.

When the show was over and the lights came up to a wave of applause, he looked at you with bright eyes and took your hand.

"Let's walk to the hotel, yes?" he suggested.  "Explore the proper way instead of a cab."

"I can't walk that far in these shoes," you frowned.

"I'll carry them for you!"

"I can't walk that far barefoot," you laughed.

"Then I'll carry you," he offered, extending his hand for you to take.

And that was how you ended up being carried piggyback through the streets of Luxembourg, across cobblestone that reflected the soft yellow glow of the street lamps and sconces, in the most expensive dress you'd ever worn.

Life is crazy like that, sometimes.

"You know, this place is a bit like Sokovia," he decided, "but with a better GDP and fewer churches."

"As I understand it, most of the world has a better GDP and fewer churches than Sokovia," you quipped.

"Hey!" he yelped in defense.  "Just because it's completely true doesn't mean you have any right to say it!"

You laughed, holding onto his neck tighter but trying your best not to inadvertently choke him.

"Typical of a Westerner to have something snarky to say while standing on the backs of hard-working Sokovians," he scoffed, "or, in this case, riding on the back of one hard-working Sokovian."

"Hard-working?  What exactly does a Baron do for work?" you interrogated.

"Uh, carry spoiled girlfriends around tiny European countries, for one," he enumerated, "and when we're not casually becoming distinguished professors in America, we have to manage the various projects of the estate… the Zemo family— which is just me, at this point— runs eleven orphanages.  I visit those sometimes and make sure they have everything they need."

"Okay, I don't know that I'd call that hard work, but it's very important so you get a pass," you decided.

"This is us," he announced he stopped walking.

"What's us?" you asked, looking around.

"This building, this is where we're staying," he explained as he set you down and made sure you were balancing right on your heels.

You let your jaw drop as you looked up at the building, admiring the carved stone face with its intricate detail, designs that evoked a certain prestige that just couldn't be found on American buildings.

"Wow," you nodded, "you really don't skimp on your last-minute random vacations, huh?"

"Not if I can avoid it," he shrugged, leading you inside.

For an exterior so gothic, the hotel’s lobby was modern and clean, though certainly not lacking in extravagant touches; you were a bit too tired to properly appreciate that, though, leaning up against his shoulder as he conversed with the front desk clerk in German in order to finish the check-in process.

The hotel had one of those elevators with mirrors on the walls, and a more energetic version of yourself might have noticed the fooling-around potential of the space, but instead you just let your eyes fall shut until you reached the correct floor.  Being an incredibly fancy place, the rooms had actual keys and not just RFID keycards— you thought Helmut looked quite regal in his opera tux, unlocking a mahogany door with a golden key.  Hard to imagine him in a windowless office and a messenger bag on his shoulder now, but you could remember falling for him in that state just the same.

He let you in first— a true gentleman, of course— and the moment the door to the room shut behind him, you groaned and flopped down onto the bed unceremoniously.  He, meanwhile, undid his bowtie and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before he laid down on his side by you, running his fingers over your back left exposed by the dress for a few moments before he pulled away.

“Darling?” he called to you softly, but you were too lazy to lift your head from where they were buried in the pillows.

“Mhmm?” you answered back, muffled.

“I…” he began, sighing before he started over.  “Well, nevermind.”

“What is it?” you pressed, turning your head over to see him— but then you saw his face, and the conflicted look it wore, and you sat up to lay closer to him.  “What’s wrong?” you asked gently, watched the way his hair fell into his face when he combed his fingers through it and glanced away from you.

“Draga, I must admit that I lied to you before about why I was returning home,” he spoke, and you were confused but said nothing.  You would’ve worried if it weren’t for the look on his face— calm, yet with something brewing in his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe.  But you trusted him.  When your brain would normally fill the silence with a thousand awful ideas of his real reason for his visit to Novi Grad, it was suddenly quiet.  “It wasn’t just for management of the estate… I had to retrieve something.”

He reached into his coat pocket, fishing out a small velvety box with red and gold along the edges.  Your heart either stopped, or beat harder than it ever had before; at a certain point the difference was irrelevant.  

“I know I should wait longer, for the perfect time, or even just any other time than when you’re not jet-lagged and I’m not so nervous I can’t even think, but…”

A sudden sigh fell from your lips when he opened the box and showed you the ornate ring inside— you couldn’t tell if it was aquamarine or blue diamonds but they shined brilliantly nonetheless.

“My mother wore this ring from the day my father gave it to her until the day she died,” he explained.  “I would like for you to wear it.”

Too stunned to do much else, you looked up at him blankly.

“I want you to be my wife,” he clarified, like he thought you didn’t understand what he was asking, and finally you snapped back to reality (as overwhelming as that reality was).  You smiled, even nearly laughing,  as you leaned in to almost press your lips to his— but when he leaned closer you kept him at bay with a hand on his collar.

“Say it again,” you requested coyly.

“You’re going to make me propose twice?” he realized, and you nodded as you bit your lip.  “I’ll say it a thousand times, draga: be my wife.”

“Two down, 998 to go,” you grinned, laughing when he growled and pulled you closer to bury his face in your neck.  You definitely noticed the longer beard when it tickled your skin with every kiss to your pulse.

“Be my wife, be my wife, my wife,” he cooed, casually starting to slip the ring on your finger before you dodged him.

“No no no, you haven’t said it a thousand times yet,” you chided him, “and I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

“Oh, darling, don’t dare me to make you say ‘yes’ as if I don’t make you scream it out every night.”

And that’s exactly what he did: make you say yes a thousand times to a thousand proposals, pinning you down and showering you in love relentlessly.  For once you just accepted it; for once he didn’t feel guilty.  

In a certain sense it was sort of hasty, half-dressed and unexpected with him fumbling to hold your dress out of the way while you clung to his shirt and kissed him hungrily: but still, it was nothing less than sensual, due in part to every beautiful thing he whispered to you until you were too far gone to understand them.  He still kept going after that, even, just to feel the weight of his words on his tongue.  Just to promise himself to you whether you could hear him or not.

Who could say how far into the night it went?  That was the magical thing about it all— neither of you cared, neither of you worried or even thought twice about what time it was or if the sun would rise soon or if it would never rise at all and this was actually the beginning of the apocalypse.  It didn’t make a difference; because whether the world ended now or in a decade or in a billion years, you would be together for the rest of your lives.

We were young and in love and I knew nothing could stop us, you remembered something he said.  He said it like it was ridiculous, just a frivolous dream; and in retrospect, he may have been right about that specific situation, but now you understood why he had felt that way— you too felt that euphoric glow of knowing you were on the edge of something amazing.  Maybe not something perfect, but something that would work out for the best in the end.

When he was finally satisfied with how many times he had satisfied you and you fell asleep on his chest, he took the opportunity to slip the ring on your finger, admiring how beautiful your hand looked wearing it before he kissed the top of your head.

“Fits perfectly,” he whispered to you in spite of your unconsciousness.  “We’ll be so happy, draga… I promise.”

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

[proserpina-magnus]

hi! If you take requests can you write a reader x Remus fluff? where they are usually studying together and helping each other out, talking about books etc. it is obvious for everyone that they like each other, but not for them.

maybe the reader could be a little shy, but really positive? and Remus is completely smitten by her and also feels protective of her?

whatever you decide I’m sure it will be amazing, hope it’s not too much

thank you for your work, you’re truly amazing!

heyy, this has been in my inbox for weeks and I'm so sorry this took so long!! I loved how descriptive you where and I hope that you don't mind that I changed the plot just a tad. Remus kind of confesses to being a werewolf soo.. I hope you like it!! xoxo

Monsters Need Love Too [ R.L ]

word count: 2.5k

[ warnings: female reader, slight jealously, tears, slight possessive behavior/words, clothes sharing, first kisses, had holding, scars, slight talk about violence, Remus's friends embarrass him, flattering ]

editor: @breakingniconicokneecaps

Remus anxiously tapped his foot, you had promised him that you both would meet up for a study session before a big potions test. You had been running late, caught up with fixing your hair or finding missing quills.

Remus kept looking towards the library door, tapping his fingers on the wooden table. There had been cracks of brown throughout the wood, Remus watched eagerly towards the doors as his dainty finger traced over the dark spiral wooden pattern.

He felt his heart putter against his rib cage, a nervous sensation creeping into his mind as he started to worry about you. It had been 10 minutes since you both originated the time to meet up, Remus was just about to stand to go look for you, but you had just hurried into the library.

He watched your frantic state walk swiftly towards him, your hair pinned back with loose strands. He smiled, pushing the chair beside him open. You flopped yourself down onto the opened chair, your books and papers left a thud as you dropped them onto the desk.

"So sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my assignment, I might have to re-do it all," you stammered, opening your books with marked stamps. You sighed, before giving a smile towards Remus. "Oh well, at least I'll have a better understanding of the material,"

Remus looked lovingly towards you, rubbing his sweaty hands on his slacks. He looked towards his own opened book, moving his papers around as he passed you his finished assignment.

"If you want, you can take a look at mine," Remus suggested, but you only shook your head and looked back towards a student who sat across a few tables. The guy you smiled at was Amos Diggory, the captain of Hufflepuff's quidditch team. Amo's had combed back messy blond hair, a boyish grin on his face as he waved towards you. Remus followed your gaze, catching the small interaction. He felt a sense of urgency to have your attention back on him.

"That's alright rem, Amo said he would help me later. Let's work on potions shall we?" You said, guiding your attention back to your books. Remus gave a disgruntled sound, his leg bouncing as it tapped into yours.

"You alright?" You asked, knees twitching every time his own knocked into yours. Remus hummed, lips thin as he focused down on his book. You felt like you did something wrong, a frown forming as you flipped some pages.

After a few moments of awkward silence, your eyes travelled towards the taller male. He was hunched over his book, his hand in a fist that rested on his bouncing thigh.

"Did I do something wrong? Are you mad I'm late?" You mumbled quietly, leaning forward as Remus turned his gaze to you. He saw your pleading eyes, a sad pout on your lips at the thought of upsetting him. Remus concluded that you were just too cute to be mad at, not that he was prior.

"No, I'm not mad," Remus huffed, tearing his eyes away from yours. Truth be told, Remus had no idea why he was so upset. You mumbled at his lame lie, your fingers tracing his wrist as you glided your hand to open up his fist. Remus jerked at the faint touch, eyes pouring at the connecting hands.

"You seem mad," you whispered gently, trying not to cause attention in the silent room. Remus brought his gaze back to your face, seeing your beautiful eyes and a small welcoming smile on your lips. His fingers opened, your own wiggling between them.

"How could I possibly be mad when you look like that," Remus blurted, in a daze. You flushed red at the compliment. You wanted so desperately for him to kiss you, Remus felt the same exact way. Before a gentle kiss could be shared, you turned back around and faced towards your book.

"You flatter too much," you teased, your shoulder bumping in with his. You didn't dare take your fingers away from his, liking the way his scars felt rigid and warm against your palm.

"I don't think I flatter enough," Remus stated, his eyes still trained on your adoring profile. You flushed once more, a swirl in your stomach from his words. Remus gushed himself at your flustered state, denying himself the right to lean in and place a kiss against your red cheeks.

"You know what I think?" You ask, turning your head so you can take a long look into his eyes. Remus leaned forward, his nose almost brushing yours. "What do you think?" He asked in response, his voice a low hum.

"I think if anyone should be flattered, it's you. You're a very attractive young man, if I do say so myself Mr. Remus," you flaunt, a giggle on your lips as you close your eyes from the laugh. Remus smiles, watching the way your cheeks rose with your smile. He was absolutely adoring your giggle form, but it was soon to be crushed by his friends.

"Uh- hello! What's going on here?" Sirius's voice boomed through, the three boys marched over to you two. Your hand fell away from Remus's, a small frown on your lips before you replaced it with a smile.

"We're just studying," you say sweetly, turning around so you can get a good look at them. Sirius raises an eyebrow, a suggestive gaze in his eyes as he stares between you two. Remus grows anxious, wanting his friends to leave as soon as possible.

"Studying what? Human anatomy?" Sirius jeers, a smirk on his lips as he leans closer. James and Peter laugh, obvious to Remus's dire crush on you.

You turn to mush at the gesture, turning back to your book as you hide your glowing face. Remus notices, upset at the way they were getting you embarrassed.

"Leave it pads, go bug off, all three of you," Remus sends a low growl to the male, but the rest of the boys only laugh and continue to talk. James pushes a seat open next to you, Remus giving him a dangerous glare.

"She's very pretty" James gushed, one of his fingers poking your sides. You squirm, but decide to be polite and smile towards James. You can't even tell him a thank you before Remus is telling them off.

"Prongs, get up and piss off," Remus states, his hand wrapping around the leg of your chair as he scoots you away from him. You grab your stuff, placing it in front of you. James frowns, tilting his head to give Remus a puppy dog expression.

"Can I stay?" Peter asked his own pout on his lips. Remus sighs loudly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No,"

"But moony!" They all chant at once, shushes and glares get shared between you all. Remus sighs one more time, deciding not to freak out and yell at all of them in front of you. The tall brunette collects his stuff, pushing it into his bag in a messy hurry. You frown, watching him pack up. You thought he was leaving with his friends, but Remus starts to take your own books and papers. With his empty hand grabbing yours, He pulls you up, tugging you out the door.

The rest of the boys shout behind him, trying to follow you both. Remus leads you down the hallway, a smile on his lips as he pats your shoulder for some comfort. "One second love, just wait here,"

Remus speeds over to the boys at the other end of the hall, far away enough for you not to hear them. They start to argue, hearing Remus raise his voice. Soon enough, the three boys look towards the ground and scoot away down the opposite hallway.

Remus jogs back over to you, smiling as he runs a hand through his hair. You bring out your hand, making a grabbing gesture. He places his hand into yours, taking the lead as he guides you down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" You questioned, stepping down the switching staircases. Remus turns briefly at the end of the steps, waiting for it to connect with another. "It's a sunny day, let's go sit on the dock,"

"What about our potions test?" You asked, following Remus down the now given steps. He steps onto the cobblestone floors, helping you off the last step.

"It's not until Friday, we have plenty of time tomorrow. You deserve a break," Remus states, pushing open a thin wooden door out towards the back of the huge castle. He takes you down the small hill, holding your hand to protect you from tripping.

"Watch your step," he says, stepping down the small steep hill. His other hand holds your waist, squeezing it between his fingers as he helps you down.

"You're my saviour," you whisper in gratitude, leaning more towards him. The air gets thicker and the breeze grows colder as you step towards the doc.

"You get pleased too easily," Remus comments, his hand squeezing yours. You turn your head, tilting it as you walk against the wooden space.

"Is that a bad thing?" You ask, Remus looked over at you briefly. He has an unreadable face before he shakes his head.

"No, unless you're thanking the wrong person," Remus explains, walking further along the doc. He helps you sit first, following suit as his legs sprawl out. He has much longer limbs, you giggle as he stretches.

"Everyone's so nice, who could possibly be the wrong person?" You wonder, head leaning against his shoulder. Remus sighs, answering that question quickly in his intrusive thoughts. You shiver, tugging your skirt down towards your knees.

"What? Do you think you're bad?" You ask, lifting your head to get a clear look at the boy. Remus lets his head lean down, a frown on his face. You hold a confused expression, your heart aching at the thought. Before you can think, your fingers tilt his head. Remus looks with wide eyes, seeing your saddened expression.

"Remus, you're the nicest person I've ever met," you explain, emotion in your eyes as you talk to him. Remus screams at himself, knowing you had no idea what he really was.

"You need to meet new people," he jokes, but you only shake your head with a deeper frown.

His heart beats quickly, your eyes guiding down to his chapped lips. He picks up instantly on your intentions and he has no remorse to stop them.

Your eyes shut on instinct, lips moving closer to his. Your head tilts, nose brushing against his as you connect mouths. Remus expresses a content sigh, his own eyes closed. His fingers lace through the back of your hair, pulling you closer.

"You don't understand," Remus sighs after the kiss, eyes whisking open. You flutter your eyelashes, sitting back on your legs. You frown, thinking he didn't like the kiss.

"Then make me understand," you tell him, heart hammering inside your chest so loud you might go deaf. Remus smiles, one of his hands still occupied with yours. His other hand cups your face, sliding it through your loose hair.

"You'll hate me once I tell you," Remus whispers, feeling tears burn his eyesight. He wishes he'd never got bitten, he didn't want you to think he was some sort of monster.

You shake your head, leaning closer as you kiss his lips once more. Remus pulls you in, addicted to the way your mouth tastes. He pushes you back slightly, feeling guilty for not telling you what he truly is.

"I'm a werewolf," Remus says, ripping off the bandaid. You blink a few times, not comprehending what he just said. Your eyes dangle down to his scarred hands, your soft thumb tracing a particularly big one.

"Does it hurt?" You quip, eyes looking back into his. Remus feels instantly loved at your small little reaction, his heart swelling as he realizes that you only care whether he's hurt, not that he turns into a killer creature every full moon.

"No," Remus lied, a tear falling from his eye. You nod, happy with his answer. Your cold fingers come to wipe away the lost tear. you lean in for another kiss, but Remus pushes you back.

"I'm a werewolf," he states once again, you nod in understanding. "I can kill you,"

"Do you want to hurt me?" You mumble, Remus feels worried build up from just thinking about it. He shakes his head, head falling as he lets out more tears.

"Then it doesn't matter," you finish, leaning down so you can get your much wanted kiss. Remus leans into it, another sigh on his lips as he pulls you closer. The waves crash against the doc, coating the wood just in front of you with seeping water.

"I can't control myself in that state, I could hurt you," Remus whispers against your lips, his arms wrapping around your sides as he pulls you in. You sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"No, the werewolf would hurt me. It's not your fault, you can't control it," you tell him, sticking with your conclusion. Remus would never dare hurt you and you knew that.

"You're too good, what is a monster like me doing with you, hm?" Remus says, his fingers tilting your chin as he places a generous kiss against your cold lips. A smile decorated on your mouth, you shift closer to him. His body was so warm and you felt so cold, you were almost slipping under his coat for warmth.

"You're no monster," you whisper, Remus notices your shivering body. He felt sick for taking you out to the cold doc, tugging off his coat quickly as he props it on your shoulders.

"I monster wouldn't let his girl freeze to death," he contorts, rubbing your arms to get you to warm up. Your face heats at his words, you couldn't help but smile.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, leaning closer as you shift onto his lap. Remus's long limbs curl around you, bringing you closer as he protects you from the now vicious wind. His hair whips in every direction, the wind so tough you can hear it.

"Yes, you're my girl," Remus juts, standing up with ease as you cling onto him. He adjusts you easily, hiding you inside his big coat. Your head rests against his chest, his arms hiking around your bottom to carry you up the hill.

"All yours," you mumble, happy with the soft protection he was offering. Your arms link around his neck, not daring to let go as he opens up the wooden door once again. He carries you inside, looking around as he spots his friends. They all gap with their mouth wide open, pointing.

"All mine," Remus mutters to you, speeding away from his frantic friends. You keep your eyes closed, letting him take you to wherever he pleases.

[missluckycharms]

These small moments.

Single Dad!Harry and his little love, Honey.

Summary: mornings with Honey are Harrys favourite, small chats with blurry eyes and lazy smiles is what makes him feel closer to his little lady.

A/N: ahhh they’re so 🥺 enjoy !!

Click *** for visuals throughout the story.

Warnings: none, just pure fluff and dad jokes.

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist.

It’s nearly seven in the morning.

The sunrise shining through the windows and casting a bright warm hue onto Harry’s sleeping body in his bed. The white sheets tossed about and his head buried in the pillow, his cheek smushed to up and his lips slightly parted letting out small snores.

The only sound throughout the whole house is the sound of birds chirping about outside and the engines of cars on their way down the roads, the morning rush nearly upon the streets as people make their way to their nine till five jobs. The house has a slight breeze throughout due to Harry always sleeping with his window cracked open, and his door cracked open also to allow honey to walk in when she needed her Papa.

Speaking of the little love, she’s already awake, in her own small pink coloured bed, many pillows around her and her stuffies lined up against the wall, her favourite stuffie in her hand — Pascal from Tangled is her favourite stuffie, she brings him everywhere, even sneaks him into school in her back pack when Harrys not looking. She does this every morning, she lays in bed and talks to her stuffie or just stares at the ceiling, her glow in the dark stars now white and barely noticeable in the bright room, her pink curtains casting a pink hue around the room.

She waits five minutes before she’s hopping out of her bed and padding along towards her door, she pulls it open as it’s only closed a little, allowing enough of a gap for her small body to fit through. She snuggles pascal as she walks, looking around and noticing her Papa must still be asleep, she immediately darts for his room, peeping her curly head in and looking at his sleeping body, his back facing her and his bed messy as usual, but there’s always enough space for her to snuggle up next to him.

She doesn’t wake him, she tip toes towards the side he’s not laying on, throwing pascal up first before she’s hiking herself up on the large bed, a small groan when she has to put more strength into getting up than usual due to her sleepy state. When she’s up, she brushes the curls from her face with a harsh swipe, her blue doe eyes looking at her Papa, his hair messy like hers. She lays down on the pillow, looking at her Papa as she softly taps his cheek and pushes pascal towards him.

“G’morning button” he grumbles when he hears a small giggle, pascal now on his back as her dimples pop out at how ridiculous the man looks with a small green chameleon stuffie on his bare back. He smiles when he hears her hearty laugh, instantly wrapping his tattooed arm around her and squishing her into his chest.

“Papa! Cant see!” She laughs loudly, her small body being caged by her Dad’s broad muscular one, his own laughs filling the room as she peeps her head up at him, a small pout on her lips which causes him to lean down and peck her lips lightly.

“Have a good sleep? Yeah?” He asks when she nods happily, her small hand playing with his cross necklace as he shuts his eyes for a few more minutes, face buried in her chestnut curls as she talks to him and pascal, Harry never knowing which one she’s actually talking to sometimes.

“Papa? Pancakes now?” She asks after another five minutes, her small attention span running out which causes Harry to wake up from resting his eyes, smile back on his face as he turns them over so he’s laying on his back and Honey is sat on his stomach slapping his chest looking at his tattoos — she loves his tattoos or his “paintings” as she calls them.

“Papa, your pearlies are gone” she says disappointed looking to see that her favourite necklace of his which is his Pearl one, is missing. She loves to run her small hands over it, the feeling and look of it making her eyes wide in awe at the beauty of it.

“Should I wear them today?” He asks with a smile, watching as she rubs her eyes a little, slowly waking herself up as she lets out a small yawn, her small pouty lips returning as she babbles on nonsense as Harry tries to tame her hair a little before he has to style it for her today.

“Love your pearlies Papa” she says brightly, laying down on his chest, her curls tickling his chin as he wraps and arm around her back, rubbing small circles on it as she relaxes a little, her small body still trying to wake up as Harry softly kisses her head.

It’s when his alarm rings when the two actually peel themselves from bed, Honey immediately springing up and slapping his phone to turn off the sound, it’s her favourite thing to do for some reason, she always shouts “I did it Papa!” Which makes him laugh and nod kissing her head proudly. They’re both in the kitchen now, the early start allowing them to lounge about in their comfy clothes for awhile while they make breakfast. Harry is only in a pair of grey joggers while Honey sits on the counter, helping him add in flour and sugar to the pancake batter in her baby pink bunny printed silk pyjama set *** the darker complexion of her skin standing out against the pale pink, Harry was overjoyed when he seen she had the same skin tone as her Mum, her darker skin causing her blue eyes to be brighter.

“Wanna help crack an egg button? Need t’be careful though, don’t want crunch pancakes now do we?” He asks with a grin as she pulls a disgusted face shaking her head. Her small palm helps her Papa’s hand crack the egg and she giggles watching it plop down into the dry mixture.

They scarf down their banana pancakes through small chats and giggles, Harry cracking his usual jokes that have Honey giggling loudly as she shovelled her pancakes into her mouth, their faces hurting from laughing by the time they’re up in her bedroom, Harry standing at her drawers, holding up small outfits as Honey sits like the diva she is on her bed, giving him a thumbs down when she doesn’t like an outfit he picks. She’s so stubborn, but she gets that from him.

“I do it Papa!” She says annoyed now, marching over to him as she picks her up with a laugh, her small hands rooting about until she pulls out a white cable knit jumper with a few frills on the sleeves and a baby pink velvet pinafore to go over it. She smiles up at him as he nods, happy with her choice. ***

“Did good button, need to put some tights on you though, getting a bit nippy out” he says as she nods, walking towards her sock drawer and pulling out some white knitted tights with an smile as Harry gives her a thumbs up, causing her to laugh loudly.

“Why Papa shave?” She asks sitting on the sink, her small outfit on her and her brown boots swinging on her feet as she dangles them off the counter beside the sink watching as Harry applies his shaving foam and wets his razor under the water, he’s still shirtless and only in his joggers as Honey watches on — she loves watching him, when he’s shaving his face or when he’s cooking, even when he does something a small as put her DVD in the player, she’s fascinated by him and Harry thinks it’s because he’s all she has, and he doesn’t mind being the centre of her attention as she is his.

“Papa has hair on his face, sometimes it gets itchy when it lets long. You don’t like it sure you don’t, always complaining it tickles when I kiss ya” he says with a laugh, his hand gliding the razor over his face as he inspects himself in the mirror, trying not to nick himself as Honey watches on curiously.

“Yuck! Hate Papas beard, gross!” She says as Harry looks at her, his face shaven and the foam gone, he picks up his curl cream and scrunches it through his hair a little.

“S’not nice to say gross button, remember? Cant say things are gross” he warns her, her small face falling but nodding as she takes the small scolding from her Papa, he rarely scolds her and when he does, he feels guilty but he knows it’s for her own good. Apart from a few slip ups here and there, she’s the most well mannered toddler ever, everyone that meets her complements Harry on his good parenting which means so much to him due to what he’s been through to get to where he is now.

It’s another few minutes before Harry is fully dressed, a baby blue striped grey suit *** on his body and his usual gucci heeled boots that Honey loves the sound of, she instantly perks up at the sound knowing her Papa is near. She claps when he walks out from the bathroom, it’s her new thing, she claps like he’s putting on a fashion show, causing him to strike a pose which causes her to fall back onto the bed in fits of laughter.

“Alright button, hair time!” He says as she widens her eyes, trying to wriggle off his bed and run away. She hates her hair being combed due to her curls being unruly and always tangled on her head. He grabs her and makes monster noises at her, tickling her belly as she screams out a laugh, nearly falling from his arms as he places her down on the counter by the sink, she spins around and watches herself in the mirror.

“What are we going for today Miss Styles?” He asks her like a professional hair stylist, her smile wide as she grabs a pink hair tie with small butterfly clips also, she shows them to him in the mirror as he smiles, taking her hair brush and de tangling spray. He struggles a little but he gets there in the end, her hair tied up in a pony tail and the small butterfly clips all around her head as she smiles brightly at herself.

“Did good job Papa!” She says clapping her hands, seeing how her Dad is improving, he’s been watching tutorials nightly and even trying some on himself as he gets used to braiding and all that stuff for when she starts asking for more complex styles in her curly hair.

He packs her bag and they’re both out the door quickly, he straps her into her booster seat in his black Range Rover, her legs dangling about as she rings and dances to the song on the radio, Harry keeping his eyes on the road but they flicker to hers in the rear view mirror when she speaks to him. Honey loves school, she loves her teacher and she loves making new friends due to her out going personality that she definitely got from her Mum, she could make friends with a tree if she was near one.

She’s holding his hand as he walks her in the gates, the other kids all lining up on their designated class spot on the ground, a yellow circle painted on the tarmac signalling the younger class. The Mums are all there with their kids, the odd few Dads there also but it’s always the Mums who are smiling and speaking to Harry as they watch their kids walk into their classroom, small hands waving as they excitedly march into the school. He doesn’t stay long after she’s gone in, mainly because the Mums have no filter and would publicly flirt with the single Dad even when they have wedding bands on their fingers.

He brushes off all the women, smiling at them as he runs out the gate, hearing them all whisper amongst themselves as they excitedly look on as he pulls away in his expensive car heading towards his work building. Harry feels empty when Honey is gone, he loves mornings with her, just him and her going about their mornings, making breakfast and cracking up at jokes they tell one another back and forth over banana pancakes every morning, some mornings they have cereal if they wake up late and sometimes if they wake up extra early and can’t go back asleep, they get ready and Harry brings her out for breakfast before dropping her off at school.

It’s the little moments with Honey that Harry cherishes, knowing she won’t be his little love for very long, but doesn’t think about that. He lives in the present with her and he loves how they are now, he loves his little lady with all his heart.

[twiceinadream]

Twice React- Cockwarming Alpha S/O

Requested: Yup

Request: Can u do omega twice cockwarming for alpha reader 🧑🏾‍🦯

a/u: Hey, everyone! Long time no see, I’ve missed you all so much and I hope you can forgive me for being gone so long. My life has been insanely busy these last few weeks so I hope you enjoy the first thing I’ve written in nearly a month. I love you all and thank you so much for all the love and support! And remember to stream “Alcohol-free”!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Nayeon

“Here!?”

Nayeon wouldn’t exactly call herself an “exhibitionist”, but then again, she couldn’t say she hated where this was going. You and your girlfriend had agreed to hold Twice’s weekly movie night at your apartment as the two of you spent all evening setting everything up for the girls. And it wasn’t until everyone was nearly ready to start did you pull Nayeon onto your lap and a blanket over her legs. She could feel your hardon through your pants as you snaked a hand between the two of you, pushing your pants and boxers down to let your erection breath. A challenging smile grew on your girlfriend’s lips as she moved her underwear to the side, letting you slip in as she sat back down. Stifling a moan as a jump scare jostled the both of you, making her sink further down onto your cock as she tried to maintain a neutral expression. Doing everything in her power to try and ignore the way your alpha-hood pulsed inside of her as she was forced to endure the next hour and a half filled with you.

Jeongyeon

“Stop moving.”

It had been a few weeks since you and your girlfriend had done anything spontaneous. Your mate just didn’t think it would also involve her members. Jeong bit her lip as the grip she had on your arm tightened even more as you made a show of getting up slightly to fix the blanket you had draped over you and your girlfriend. A playful smirk covered your face as Jeongyeon resisted the urge to hit you as the jostling you caused made her stifle a moan. Your cock nestled nicely inside of her as the rest of her members continued to watch the show playing on the tv. Blissfully unaware of the evil you were conducting on their second eldest Unnie.

Momo

“Y/N.”

Planning trips was hard and you had to commend Momo for all the work she did by herself. So you decided to pay her back the best way you could. A persistent blush covered the eldest Japanese woman’s face as she tried her hardest not to show any indication of what was going on as she moved onto your lap the first half hour into the flight. Ignoring the weird but mysteriously knowing look the flight attendant had given her when the plane had hit a bit of turbulence and she had to bite her finger to stifle the groan that threatened to spill out. You couldn’t help but chuckle lowly as Momo scowled, “Y/N, please.” You just shrugged before continuing to watch the movie that was playing on your phone. But after having you inside of her for the better part of an hour she had finally had enough as you rutted your hips into her. Finally bringing over the edge as she shuddered on top of you, silently releasing all over your lap before she slumped back into you. A cocky smile growing on your face as you whispered into your mate’s ear, “Welcome to the Mile High Club, Momoring.”

Sana

“Oh god…”

Sana couldn’t exactly remember what had caused you two to end up in this position but she found herself on her knees in the middle of the living room with a blindfold over her eyes. She could hear you unzip your pants as the strong scent of your alpha-hood greeted her nose as you placed the tip of your cock to her lips. The corners of her lips curled up into a small smile as you pushed into her mouth. Her tongue rubbed along the underside of your shaft as Sana made a move to bob her head forward, but you stopped her with a hand threaded lightly into her hair, “Not yet, baby.” You could see her eyebrows knit together in confusion as you just kept yourself there, and as time passed you could sense your mate’s neediness as her fists furled and unfurled repeatedly against her thighs. You finally had enough of your own self restraint as you jogged your hips forward. Sana met you halfway as one of her hands came up to play with your balls while she took you down to the root, enjoying the feeling of you shallowly fucking her throat as the hand in her hair tensed as you came.

Jihyo

“Patience Jagiya.”

It wasn’t necessarily Jihyo’s fault she had been so busy these past few weeks, she and her members had a comeback to prepare for and all. But that also didn’t mean you were exactly an angel either. This whole thing started out innocently, it went from your girlfriend sitting next to you on the couch, to her hand on your thigh, then somewhere after that you found yourself buried inside the tight walls of your mate’s heat as she peacefully read a book while perched on top of you. You could feel her clench and unclench around you, testing you, you hated it. Your hands were practically fisting the couch cushions as she continued to rock her hips ever so slowly. You could tell Jihyo was enjoying every second of her sadistic teasing as you whimpered into her ear, “Baby, please.” She just shook her head, “No, you were bad and brats get punished.” You let out a scoff that was cut off by the high pitched moan you let out as she dropped into your lap, making your cock dribble some cum inside of her. “You’re mean.” Jihyo just smiled as she got off you, your hard cock glistening and throbbing in the cool air of the room. “And you’re a brat.”

Mina

“Don’t even think about it.”

Mina was okay with letting you have control. But sometimes when she wanted something, she was gonna get it. Labored breathing filled the bedroom as you collapsed on top of Mina, a satisfied smile on both of your faces as she trailed her fingers along your back. Drawing meaningless circles across your shoulder blades as she felt you soften side of her, you made a move to pull out but your mate stopped you as she suddenly flipped your guy’s positions so that she had you pinned beneath her. A look of surprise on your face as Mina sat up on your lap, “Don't move.” You raised an eyebrow in confusion before she began gyrating her hips, a shocked gasp leaving your mouth as you made a move to stop her. “W..wait.” But the Japanese woman simply ignored you as she could feel you attempt to get hard again, “I said, ‘Don’t move.’.” You whimpered as you could feel yourself growing to a second climax, a pained moan leaving you as you weakly came inside of your girlfriend. A pleased smile grew on her face as she kissed your nose, “Goodnight, Y/N.” She laid back down on top of you, your cock still inside of her as you shrugged, ‘Tomorrow morning should be fun.’

Dahyun

“What if someone sees?”

Going to the beach on a hot summer day was a good idea. Or so Dahyun thought it was. The two of you had arrived early enough to find a small secluded spot on the far side of the beach that was blocked by a small cliff, leaving the two of you in your own little world as you held Dahyun to your front as she peacefully read her book. You spent the last two hours placing kisses along her neck and your hands inching closer to the inside of her thighs, and you could tell your actions were starting to affect her by the way her thighs were rubbing together and her scent was building. A frustrated groan leaving your mate as she threw down her book, “What do you want Y/N!?” You smiled coyly, “I just wanted to see if you wanted to have a little fun?” Your girlfriend’s eyebrow raised in interest, “What did you have in mind?” Dahyun was now filled to the brim with your cock as you had her sit back against your chest, her breath stuck in her throat as she tried to stay as still as possible, “By ‘fun’ I didn’t think you’d mean this.” You smiled coyly, “Well, what did you think I’d suggest?” She shrugged, “I don’t know, Marco Polo?” You let out a laugh that made you bounce slightly, causing Dahyun to rock on your hips as she let out a squeal. “Oh god.” You sat back as your hips finally stilled, “There’s more where that came from. We have all afternoon, Dahyunnie.”

Chaeyoung

“Kinky.” (I slightly apologize for the amount of puns in this)

Chaeyoung was always done for a little exploration. She just wasn’t expecting it on a train to Busan. The two of you were on a midnight train and things were quite monotonous in a train car all alone together, so the two of you decided to spice it up. It didn’t take long for one thing to lead to another as Chaeyoung was lowering herself onto you, her ass stretching to accommodate the small amount of discomfort you caused as she sat flush on your lap. And that’s all the two of you did for the majority of the time until your girlfriend began to get squirmy on top of you, her anal walls clenching around you when you decided it was time to give her what she wanted. Ensuring that no one else was around you bent your girlfriend over the train seat as you railed her into the padding. Your combined moans filling the train car as you bottomed out inside of her and came, your reached a hand around to play with her clit as you felt her walls contract around you again. Content sighs leaving your lips as you sat back into the seats.

Tzuyu

“Hush.”

It was understatement to say that nine people alone wasn’t a lot of people. But it wasn’t enough that Tzuyu had to sit on your lap to “make room” in the jacuzzi. It had happened so fast that you barely registered what your girlfriend had done as she innocently sat onto your lap. Only it wasn’t so innocent since she had freed your alpha-hood from your bathing suit and pushed the bottom of her bathing suit aside and took you inside of her. Your breath caught in your throat as Tzuyu grinded down into you ever so slightly as your hands flew to her hips, trying your best to resist the urge to take her then and there. But you held back as you continued your conversation with Jeongyeon and Momo about new cafés opening up around the city. You almost forgot you were a cock deep inside your mate as she began moving up and down suddenly to splash Nayeon and Chaeyoung who were opposite her, making you grip on her hips tighten as you felt the knot inside your stomach come undone as you suddenly came inside of her. A surprised look took over both of your faces as she turned around to stare at you in disbelief. A dark blush covered your cheeks as you buried your face into the back of her hair, Tzuyu was totally gonna make you pay for that later.

[sugako]

backseat care

kyotani x f!reader  sum: getting elbowed in the face at a concert isn’t new for you, but at least this time it’s by a hot guy  cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, minor accidental violence (reader gets a bloody nose/split lip from kyo), mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol (but no one is drunk), slight public sex/car sex, oral (f!receiving), slight overstim, creampie, strangers to lovers wc: 2.4k a/n: i have had such bad writers block lately, but i’ve been wanting to write more kyo content for so long and i miss going to loud basement shows so why not combine both also there’s a longish intro just an fyi

the amount of pain from the limb crashing into your face isn’t all that different from what you’ve felt before. things get messy in the pit, you know that, but when you reach up to wipe the sweat from your upper lip you realize it smells a lot more like copper. just as your nose starts to leak the assailant spins around, looking as if he’s about to tell you off for getting in the way of his arm before his expression drops.

kyotani can’t believe he just gave the prettiest girl he’s ever seen a bloody nose and split lip. your head is tilted down, desperately trying to catch the blood in your palms as you cover up the bottom part of your face. the lights are flashing and it’s dark, but he feels like he can see all of you. 

“i’m sorry.” he huffs over the music. 

“it’s fine, i’m just gonna, uhh...” you choke out, lightly pinching your nose with a little wince. 

“c’mon,” he sighed, “let’s go see if there’s a first aid kit around.” he was already grabbing your arm and dragging you out of the mess of people before you could respond. his firm grip made your mind wander, momentarily distracted from the mess that was your face. 

after scrounging the dingy, cramped space for close to five minutes, he gives a defeated huff. 

“nothing?” you asked nasally, the blood finally slowing to a crawl. he shakes his head, eyebrows tightening together even more. 

“i have a kit in my car if you’re okay with that.” 

“tell me your name and promise you won’t murder me?” you breathe out, already texting the friend you came with about your little injury and that you were stepping out with a stranger. “you don’t really look creepy, but you never know.”

“kentarō kyōtani and no.” he quips back, still guiding you with his hand clamped around your arm out of the building. 

the cool night air runs right through your body, quelling the hotness that’s built up in your face. thankfully, his car is only two spots away from the exit. it’s tiny and black with two thin silver stripes that remind you of the ones that run through his hair, giving him a pseudo-mohawk.

he opens up the rear door, grabbing a box from the floor and motioning for you to sit, of which you happily oblige. under the dim light the car gives off you can clearly see his honey brown eyes and the way his eyeliner is smudged around.

“does it feel broken?” he asks about your nose, cautiously grabbing your chin to inspect the injuries. 

“no, i don’t think so. my mouth really hurts though.” you mumble out, heart racing under his calloused touch. 

“good, it doesn’t look broken. and your lip is a little split.” he rummages through the kit, pulling out a wipe that he carefully rubs along your face where the blood has caked and dried. 

“you’re pretty good at this, go to lots of rough shows?” you awkwardly break the tense quiet, trying to not move your lips much as you talk. 

“no, i play volleyball.” he says simply. it’s impossible for you to really tell whether it’s a joke or not, but out of gut reaction you laugh. “i’m not kidding,” he sighs, tossing the dirty wipe in a small trash carrier inside the car and pulling a tiny pad from the kit to press to your open lip. 

“oh, sorry, really? that’s pretty cool. didn’t realize volleyball was really a big contact sport. though i guess you could get hit in the face with the ball a lot.” 

“don’t get hit a ton in the face in Division 2 volleyball, but you can fall hard.”

another moment of silence passes when he takes the padding away from your lip and inspects your face once again. although your heart hasn’t slowed, it seems he’s just realized how close you’re faces are and how he’s kneeling between your thighs that keep twitching every time he leans in a little closer. 

“i wouldn’t expect a, uh, a professional volleyball player at a place like this.” voice all spluttery like you can’t control it. 

“you shouldn’t assume things about people.” he says simply, not moving a muscle. “your lips look better now,” he’s whispering now, the smooth vibrations of his voice echoing around in your head like a bouncy ball, “wanna try them out?” 

part of you wants to laugh at how cheesy his words are, but more of you is interested in how his lips would feel against yours. he doesn’t move a muscle, the needy feeling that’s burning inside of him can’t be seen through his eyes, but you catch it in the way his jaw tenses while he patiently waits for your answer. 

“that’s a great idea,” you whisper back as his face closes in on yours. 

his motions are gentle and measured, it’s easy to tell he’s holding back by the way his hands twitch against your waist. carefully, he’s avoiding the edge of your lip where it’s still bruised and open, but as he presses harder and harder into you, the pain grows. nothing about the kiss is nice - everything tastes of cheap beer, blood, sweat, and disinfectant, but it feels good. 

it feels as though his clawing fingers are burning into your sides, forcing you further into the backseat of the car. letting yourself willingly move back, he clumsily reaches up to snap the automatic light off in the roof, not quite closing the door all the way behind him. 

when his teeth scrape against your wound, you let out a small yelp against your own will. before the noise is even done coming out of your mouth, he pulls away, adjusting so he isn’t crushing you so hard into the seats, and cradling your face. 

“sorry,” you pant out, “just hurts a little.” 

at this angle he can see how little tears have pricked in the edge of your eyes, purely from the gentle stinging pain. it hurts his heart a little that he’s caused you some pain, but you look so pretty like this with your teary eyes and pink tongue sticking out as you quietly gasp for air. 

“let’s give you a little break, huh.” he chuckles, sitting back on his heels and grabbing your knees to hook over his shoulders. it takes a minute for your foggy brain to realize what’s happening, but as he lowers himself between your thighs, the sight makes you clench around nothing and everything clicks into place. 

suddenly you’re glad you wore a skirt. he nips up your already shaking thighs, eyes locked between your legs groaning at the pretty panties that were clinging to the slickness of your folds. he flips your skirt up, pressing your knees tighter to your body when his broad shoulders lift your legs higher. 

“please...?” you whimper when you feel his breath against you. 

“need to cum?” he questions, teasingly, mouthing over your clothed cunt. 

“yes, please, wanna cum.” hips barely jerking under him, desperate for anything. 

“pfft, i can tell. so wet already.” kyōtani mumbles into you just before he reaches his arms around your legs and rests them just above your pelvis, using one hand to pull aside the thin fabric. before the cool air could even hit your exposed flesh, his mouth came down on you, messily lapping up your slit, tasting you completely before he began to circle your clit. 

when he finally arrives at your sensitive, little bud your hips involuntarily twitch against him, begging for release. hot breaths and moans filled up the space of the car, barely escaping through the tiny crack where the backdoor wasn’t completely closed, just resting against the hinge. 

the small fear of being caught or seen urged you on, encouraging you to cum as fast as you could. not that you really needed to do much when he had such great control of his tongue and two of his fingers easily slipped past your entrance, curling against your spongey walls. 

“k-kentarō!” you squeaked out, waves of relief edging up on you, “gonna cum, please, gonna cum.” the words came out like a broken record, separated by little hiccupped moans. 

“asking permission?” his low laugh vibrated across you skin. “that’s cute.” as soon as the words were out, he went back lapping and sucking your swollen clit. 

it only took moments for you to fall into your high, body squirming under him, limbs twitching in time with the way your cunt clamped around his fingers that just kept pumping into you. all the while his mouth didn’t stop, he didn’t even hesitate. 

he just kept lapping up your clit until your nails were digging into his wrist that was resting on your tummy, sobbing out moans. you didn’t want him to stop but the feeling was overwhelming, like you couldn’t stop cumming. briefly, you wondered if it was always supposed to be like this, body and brain turning fuzzy as he finally slowed enough for you to rest. 

the little whine you let out when he took his fingers from your pulsing hole made him grind his hips into the seat. you let out a low groan as you watched him stick his fingers into his mouth and suck them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“feel good?” he grumbles out, languidly flattening his tongue against you to take another slow lap. 

it’s nearly impossible to focus with the way he’s touching you, but you manage out the words you want to say. “uh-huh, want...want more.” you shyly make out. 

“more?” one of his angled brows shoots up before he shrugs and roughly laps against your clit. body betraying you, it crumbles under him, hips already bucking up into his nose again before you can reach down and drag him off of you by his short curls. 

“no...no,” you gasp, “want your cock.” 

his eyes soften for a second before the expression is replaced with something a little more feral. “why not just say so.” he hums, pants already unbuttoned, pulling them down just enough so his cock can slip out. 

you can’t help the gasp that breaks past your lips. it’s embarrassing, but he’s beautiful and you’re sure that his pretty cock could fill you up two times over. before you bask too much in the pleasantness of the moment, he reaches down to tear at your panties. 

“hey!” you yelp, unable to do much with your ankles still propped up on his shoulders. 

“eh, there was a pull in the seam anyway.” he says back lamely, leaning back in so he can loom over you, smirking when his cock slaps against your folds and you squirm under him.

“i...i liked them.” you pout, trying to ignore the burn between your legs. he presses a hot kiss against your jaw and licks up the shell of your ear. admittedly, he liked them quite a bit too.

“go on a real date with me sometime and i’ll get you a new pair.” his hips rut against yours, rubbing the tip of his cock against your still sensitive folds. 

“oh, uhh- okay, yeah.” surprised by his proposition, but already hoping you’d meet him again, you quickly agree. 

“good.” he says while he lines himself, pushing in and trying to ignore how tightly you were clenching around him. his thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing tight circles to get you to settle as he bottomed out. 

your eyes didn’t deceive you, he certainly filled you to the brim and he knew how to use his entire body. still so close from his prior ministrations you found yourself already shuddering under his touch, the coil in your belly snapping even more harshly this time as you came undone around his cock. 

he shallowly pumped into you, getting you used to the size while you squeezed and sucked him in. 

“feel so good,” he grunts, “want me to fuck this pretty pussy?”

it’s not a real question, not when you’re arching into him, whimpering and moaning incoherencies, but you quickly nod to answer anyway. his grin makes your heart race, and he hurries to pull out nearly all the way before slamming back into you, setting a quick pace from the start. 

you have the brace the back of your head to stop it from crashing into the car door as he rams you into the seats, body at the will of his harsh thrusts. mouth open in a silent scream, only choked whines crack out from your throat that he quickly swallows up with a messy kiss. 

pent up from the entire day and the ghost of the taste of your cunt still on his lips, he feels himself getting close, encouraged on by the way you keep fluttering around him. as if sensing, by the way his kiss tightens up and his arms tense, you pull away and nod up at him. 

“want you to cum in me.” you quickly assure him. 

he lets out a sharp gasp, hips already stuttering against yours as he nods back in silent agreement. swallowing hard, he rests his head against your shoulder, letting his hips fall against yours, cock twitching against your aching, gummy walls, filling you with cum. 

after his labored breathing slows and you relax under him, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek and steadily sits up and pulls out. the gasp you let out when you’re empty is nearly enough to make his cock twitch again, but he holds back. he watches as your poor cunt quivers around nothing, eyeing the way his cum slowly dribbles out of you. 

achingly, you sit up when he lets your legs slide off his arms, leaning against the car door closest to you to get a good look at him while he tucks himself back into his pants, ignoring the messy, stickiness between his legs for now. you feel the mix of cum between your legs start to seep out, tightly closing your thighs to keep from making a mess on his car seats. 

grabbing your phone from where it had fallen onto the floor, you toss it at him before grabbing your destroyed panties off the spot in the bench between the two of you. 

“put your number in. we can go shopping this weekend.” you sigh with a soft smile. for once, getting a dumb injury at a shitty show was worth your while. 

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

Room For Dessert

anon requested- Can you do a smut where rossi has a dinner party but also has his Niece staying with him because her apartment is being fumigated. Her and Spencer hit it off and go at it.

anon requested- smut 54: you better be quiet or everyone is going to know what a naughty little slut you are. and 59: such a needy little thing, aren't you? with Spencer

Contains: fingering (female receiving), hand job (male receiving), mention of pregnancy/breeding kink, name calling, slight degradation, unprotected sex, swearing, sexual acts in a public setting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had never met my uncle David's co-workers before. He had always talked about introducing us, but it just never seemed to be the right time. It seems that today though, the world decided it was the right time.

He was having a dinner party tonight and my apartment needed to be fumigated. What luck!

I figured I would be staying with him for a couple days, so I packed my things after work yesterday. Now it was Saturday, the day of the party, and time to head over.

I had to admit I was nervous. A dinner party with people I didn't know? Talk about awkward. But I decided to make the most of it.

Once I was at his house, he took me to a spare room that would be mine for the next few days and showed me where everything was. Not that I would remember since we're in a mansion.

A few hours passed and it was time for people to start arriving. As I was getting my party clothes on, I could hear voices downstairs. Guess I should hurry.

Once I was done with my hair, makeup, and clothes, I made my way slowly down the stairs. The voices got progressively louder as I got closer.

A few people were scattered around the immediate area. A dark-haired woman stood talking to a blonde woman over near the far side of the room. Uncle David was talking with an Asian man and a dark-skinned woman by the entrance to the kitchen. And lastly, a well-built Hispanic man sat talking to a blonde woman in colorful clothing and a tall, slightly unkempt man.

I wasn't sure where to go first so I just kind of stood on the bottom step without saying anything. Then Uncle David noticed me.

"Ah there she is! We've been waiting for you. Come on and mingle while the food is finishing up."

At his words, the room full of people all turned their heads toward me.

Slightly taken aback by all the eyes on me, I gave a small wave and a smile before making my way down to them.

"It's nice to meet you guys! I'm (Y/N). Uncle David has told me about all of you."

The woman wearing bright colors made her way over to me first, a glass of champagne in hand.

"It's so nice to meet you! Your dress is to die for!"

She then enveloped me in a one arm hug. I hugged her back and accidentally made eye contact with the tall guy in the back. He quickly looked away. What was he staring at me for?

"I'm Penelope by the way!"

She pulled away and smiled at me once more before making room for the next person.

Emily, JJ, Luke, Tara, and Matt all introduced themselves. The last guy must be...

"Dr. Spencer Reid," he said as he stuck his hand out to shake.

Oh. Oh wow.

Now that I got a closer look at him, I could see why his nickname was "Pretty Boy." If we hadn't been in front of so many people, I would've had to jump his bones right then.

I shook his hand shyly.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you. Aren't you a little too attractive to be in the FBI? How does anyone get their work done?"

Spencer cleared his throat and glanced around the room to see people start walking to the kitchen. The food must be almost done.

"Well, why don’t you sit next to me at the dinner table? I’ll make sure to tell you all about my...work,” he murmured as he made no attempts to hide his eyes roaming my body.

Did-did he just...?

Before I could think anything coherent, he began walking away. He was probably just messing with me. I’m just being stupid.

Still, my legs felt a bit weak as I made my way into the kitchen. They were all sitting down and the only empty seat was next to Spencer. As I approached, he jumped up and pulled out the chair.

“Here let me.”

He gave me a bashful look, not at all like the look he gave my body moments ago in the living room. What is this guy’s deal?

I gave him a small smile and took a seat. He pushed me towards the table and sat down next to me.

Uncle David did his toast thing to be thankful for everyone being here, and then we started dishing up our food. There was so much to choose from that my plate became full almost immediately.

“So tell me,” I said to the man next to me, “What’s it like to be the BAU’s resident genius?”

Spencer glanced at me as he gathered food onto his plate.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that an IQ score or any amount of knowledge makes someone a genius. Not that both of those aren’t high for me, but I don’t like to quantify the term genius.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“But between you and me, it feels pretty good.”

I giggled and he smiled at me. He has a nice smile.

“Hey I made you laugh and it wasn’t at me. Maybe I’m getting somewhere with women.”

I traced the rim of my champagne glass before looking at him. I know I’d like to go somewhere with him...

“I don’t see how women aren’t all over you, Doctor. I mean. Have you looked in a mirror?”

Spencer chuckled and smiled, almost nervously.

“I’d rather look at you.”

My cheeks got hot and I blinked rapidly. Oh no. This is it. It’s happening.

But I hadn’t forgotten that look he gave me before we sat down. I hadn’t forgotten the way he undressed me with his eyes. If he wanted to mess with me then I would mess with him too.

I leaned over slowly so no one would notice and began talking in a low voice in his ear.

“What parts of me would you like to look at, Doctor?”

Spencer choked on his drink when I finished speaking. I leaned away feeling accomplished and with a painful twitch in my chest from trying not to lose my shit at him sputtering like an idiot.

But it would seem that karma is, in fact, a bitch.

“How about I start with those pretty tits of yours?”

It was my turn to choke on my drink this time. This earned me a few glances from the people across from me at the table.

“You two okay over there?” Emily asked us, having no clue what was really happening on our side of the table.

Spencer gave me a fake confused glance and then met Emily’s eyes.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”

She shrugged and seemed to leave it at that, turning back to her conversation with JJ.

“How about...,” Spencer began next to me in a low voice so that no one would hear, “We have a little fun?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, not really sure what he meant by that.

He widened his eyes and looked me up and down in response as if to say, “You know exactly what I mean.”

I tried not to smile as big as I wanted to, so I settled on a sly grin in his direction to let him know I was game.

His body seemed to relax in relief almost, something I wasn’t expecting. Was he genuinely interested in me or was he just messing with me because I happened to be here?

I tried distracting myself from these thoughts and started actually eating, since we were at a dinner party after all.

A few minutes went by of idle conversation, although I wasn’t really listening. I responded in short sentences and nods in between bites of food, but my mind was elsewhere.

It wasn’t too long though, until my mind went straight to my thigh, where a hand could be felt slowly making its way up.

Trying not to make it obvious, I turned towards Spencer with a shocked look on my face. He wasn’t even looking at me, he was looking ahead and having a full conversation with Matt and Luke. How is he multitasking this well?

His hand- his very large and warm hand- made its way even farther up, snaking towards my center with a painfully slow pace.

I knew what he was planning, and I was ready for it. At least, I think I am.

His finger brushed against the edge of my panties and he paused. When I looked over at him, he had his chin casually resting on his other hand and was looking at me sideways. He raised an eyebrow to ask me if it was okay.

In response, I took his hand that was so close to where I wanted it to be, and brought it down so that he could feel the wet spot forming just from thinking about what he was getting ready to do.

I think this shocked him a little, so he cleared his throat and looked ahead, picking up another conversation with Tara.

He made his way back to where he was and began slipping fingers past the hem of my panties. They were warm and soft, but still, I shivered.

I tried my best to continue on as normal while people talked to me, but as soon as I felt the pad of his pointer finger stroking my folds, I choked on my words.

No one seemed to notice, so I continued on like nothing happened.

He was teasing me now, touching around my entrance but never going in it. How irritating.

I’m sure he sensed my frustration, since he chuckled under his breath and immediately shoved a finger inside me.

I inhaled sharply, not expecting the force or suddenness. This seemed to please him; at least I’m assuming he was pleased based on the grin that graced his features.

He continued working while he talked, never stopping the motions of going in and out of me. He even began rubbing my clit with another finger while he fingered me. He must be really good at piano. And guitar, for that matter.

It was starting to get a little warm, and my body began reacting to the way he was relentlessly rubbing my clit in hurried circles.

“Spencer,” I hissed so that no one else could hear.

“Hmmm?”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I believe I’m trying to make you cum on my fingers.”

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt my core tighten. I looked around to make sure no one had heard us. The coast seemed to be clear.

“You’re gonna pay for this, asshole,” I choked out.

This seemed to only fuel him. His fingers began relentlessly attacking my swollen bundle of nerves and they did not stop. Not even close. He only got faster and faster, and I have no idea how that was even possible to begin with.

I wanted to smack the smirk that appeared when I tightened around his fingers right off his stupid face.

His eyes roamed my sweaty, slightly red face and he slowly pulled his hand from my panties.

Spencer then turned back to his plate and picked up the last bit of his dinner roll that was left. He placed it in his mouth, along with the tips of his fingers that were just in my panties. He pushed the roll farther in his mouth so that his fingers were halfway in. Then he slowly withdrew them, his lips never leaving those damn fingers.

“Mmm Rossi,” Spencer began, turning away from me and to the man he called, “These rolls are really good. Did you make them yourself? I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like it.”

This time I choked on my own saliva. So of course, I had a coughing fit that drew everyone’s attention to me.

“Oh my gosh, (Y/N) are you okay? Take a sip of water!” Penelope told me in honest concern for my well being.

I finished coughing and took a long gulp from my glass. I only wished it was whiskey instead of water right now.

“I’m okay, really,” I said, holding my hands up in front of me, “Just... swallowed my food too fast.”

This seemed to satisfy everyone so they all turned back to each other, Spencer’s comment about the rolls forgotten.

“That’s what you get for calling me those mean names, princess,” Spencer murmured next to me.

I stayed silent in response. Two could play at this game.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand against his crotch. And it was... something. I’m not sure if he was that hard or just- that big. Either way, my heart skipped a beat. But I didn’t let that stop me.

I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his pants and made contact with what I was looking for. I felt him twitch under my touch, but his face gave nothing away to the others at the table.

So I started working. Tracing the length of what I could reach, and rubbing along his shaft with precision.

He took in a sharp breath as I made my way closer to the tip, and he quickly cut a glance my way.

I paid him no mind as I continued, making sure to eat off my plate like normal so as not to draw suspicion. Looking around, I could see that most people were finishing up their food, so I didn’t really have a lot of time left. I started going faster, putting more pressure onto his dick as I went. 

When I looked up to check the scene, I saw Spencer gripping his fork with white knuckles. He was holding on for dear life. Good. 

It was then that a few people began to excuse themselves from the table to go mingle some more before dessert. Shit. I had to hurry. 

I kept picking up speed, probably too much to be honest. But it worked. Spencer stiffened under my touch and a warm, wet spot was now forming in his pants, coating my fingers. He cleared his throat to try and drown out the noise he wanted so badly to make instead. 

I took a deep breath, satisfied with my work, and slowly removed my hand from his pants. It was just us, Penelope, and my uncle left at the table. They were in the middle of a conversation anyway. Luck was on my side tonight.

Spencer excused himself in a hurry, and I waited a few minutes before doing the same. I had no idea where he went, so I just had to walk around and find him somehow. We had unfinished business. 

A few minutes went by of me searching the halls, hopefully not drawing attention to myself. And then I found him, leaning against a wall and looking out the window in front of him. 

When I approached him, I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get any words out, he grabbed my wrist roughly and pulled me into a closet. Spencer shut the door quietly behind us, though I could tell that he wanted to slam it. Uh oh.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I was just playing along! Isn’t that what we wanted to do from the beginning?”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair. Oh, how I wanted to do the same thing.

“Obviously. I’ve been wanting to fuck you senseless since I laid eyes on you.”

My heart skipped a beat and the pulse suddenly went down into my core instead.

“Well do it then,” I murmured while gripping onto his forearms. There was enough space in this closet for many different positions. I just wanted to be as close to him as possible.

“I don’t know if you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Spencer groaned while palming my ass roughly.

“Mmm, I don’t care. I’m on the pill, by the way. So I wanna feel you. All of you. Although I have a pretty strong feeling you’d get off on putting a baby in me, Doctor,” I whispered into his ear before pressing my chest against his. I felt his breathing stop for a split second.

“Shut up,” he growled. It seems I pushed a button.

“Make me.”

Without a word and without hesitation, Spencer shoved me against the wall behind me and locked his mouth onto mine.

It was better than I could’ve imagined. And I had imagined it a lot over the course of tonight.

His tongue immediately shoved past the barrier of my lips and teeth, finding shelter in my mouth. The groans that came from him could have undone me right there, so I held onto his shoulders for dear life. His hands found his way to my ass, and he pushed me against his erection. His very large, very intimidating erection. And then all too soon, he pulled away, a string of saliva and swollen lips the only evidence of what had just happened.

“Who said you were allowed to tease me, huh? You've been pushing my buttons all night, and now look at you. A writhing mess underneath me. Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

I shivered as his words reached my ears. So he had noticed I was already falling apart once again.

“God,” he moaned into my neck as he pushed me against his dick.

I couldn’t help myself- I moaned with him. The friction of him against my pulsing core was almost too much to handle.

“You sound so good,” he growled in my ear.

We stopped suddenly when footsteps could be heard nearby. I glanced at Spencer in a panic and started to move away from him. But before I could, he hastily shoved his hand over my mouth.

"Oh no, we're not stopping. Not when it’s getting this good. So you better be quiet or else everyone will know what a naughty little slut you are. Understand?"

I whimpered against his fingers and nodded at him. He gave me a wicked smile in return.

"Good girl. Now take off your panties and wrap your legs around me so I can feel just how tight your cunt really is. I have a feeling my dick will feel a lot better inside you rather than my fingers.”

With shaking hands, I slid my panties off and kicked them away.

Spencer must have enjoyed what I did because he licked his lips eagerly, never breaking his gaze towards me. Before I made my way back over to him, I couldn’t help but notice how hard he already was. This wouldn’t take long. Less of a chance we would get caught, thankfully. 

He pulled down his pants and boxers roughly, quickly stepping out of them like I had done moments ago. He made no motion to remove the clothes on his top half, solidifying the thought that this would be over quickly. How bittersweet. 

Without another word, I practically jumped into his arms, our mouths meeting immediately and moving against the other ferociously. But all of a sudden, he pulled away, and it pissed me off more than it should have. 

When I saw why he did though, I wasn’t angry anymore. 

He had picked up the belt he had been wearing from the floor, and was holding it in front of me with a dangerous look in his eye. 

“I don’t trust you to be quiet. Open,” Spencer said in a gravelly huff. 

I did as he asked without hesitation, and he roughly shoved the leather belt into my mouth, commanding me to bite down on it. 

Oh shit.

Without missing a beat, he picked me up and laid me down on the floor, extremely gently compared to how he had previously put the belt in my mouth. 

“Good thing you’re already so wet,” Spencer purred, looking down at my exposed core. “Otherwise, this might hurt a little. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Unfortunately, it did still hurt. But God, did it hurt so good. 

[watermelonlovershigh]

Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old

This was requested by this anon.

AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)

Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.

Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.

If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.

"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.

"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.

"Sweets." she says innocently.

"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.

"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.

"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.

This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.

When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.

It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.

He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.

Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.

After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.

Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."

"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger.  Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.

"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.

After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.

"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.

As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"

10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.

"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.

"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.

"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.

When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.

About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"

"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.

By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.

At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.

Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.

About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.

Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."

She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.

"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.

Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.

Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.

"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.

Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when  he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.

Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.

As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.

Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."

The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.

"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.

"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.

Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

[odilestory]

tell me that you want me - johnny joestar x reader

ao3 repost, word count: 1.3k

————

There you were, back again. Disheveled and feeling guilty for showing up at his doorstep again. Johnny knew how it was with you and Diego. The fights crescendoed at yelling and screaming threats at you, and the only way to stop them was to leave for the night. Or the week. Or however long it took Diego to cool down and get back to loving you normally. Johnny knew this wasn’t loving, though. He knew this was manipulative and toxic. But he also knew that you were too scared to leave; too anxious about what Diego might actually do if you up and left for good. And God, he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Diego found out about the two of you. Johnny didn’t want you to feel guilty for trying to escape.

He opened the door and looked up at you, half-expecting you to come anyways, even though you never gave a warning before carrying out your escape plan. Johnny felt it: somehow, he knew that tonight would be one of those nights. One of the nights when you came to him in silence, already having exhausted sentences like, “I want to leave, I just can’t,” and, “I’m too scared of what he might do.” He didn’t expect you to explain yourself. IN fact, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to know if tonight had been worse than previous. He just wanted to know that you were safe now. And opening the front door and finding you meant that you were safe now.

“Hey.” You cracked a smile. But you knew it wouldn’t resolve that look on his face. That look of disappointment. Not in you for running, but in Diego for treating you like this. If you ever got away for good, Johnny knew he would never treat you like he does.

“Hi.” He mumbled and moved aside for you to come in.

You headed straight for the couch and collapsed, leaving room for Johnny to sit next to you. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, breathing a sigh of freedom.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” You heard the door close. Most of the lights in the house were off, just the floor lamp in the living room and light from the kitchen down the hall. Gyro must be at work, you thought.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” You lifted your head up to meet his eyes. He smiled and mumbled an “Alright” and headed down the hall. You wanted to ask to help, but you knew he didn’t much appreciate it, especially when he was trying to do something nice for you. It made him feel like he wasn’t capable.

Hearing the kettle set on the stove and the click of the burner you decided to follow him. You knew he would stay in there until the tea was done, and you didn’t much feel like being alone. You stood up and padded down the hallway, leaning against the doorway into the kitchen.

He noticed you and looked up. You didn’t like that look of pity he had, but you knew it was warranted. Johnny opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“He said he would leave me.”

Johnny looked surprised, looking down for a moment and then back up at you, not really sure if this was good or bad.

“Well that would solve it, wouldn’t it? Did he say for sure? He’s definitely leaving?”

You shook your head, mouthing a “no.”

“Well…why don’t you ask him, you know, if he’s gonna stay?”

“Because,” you scoffed, already having thought about this on the way over. “He’ll take it like I’m asking him if he’s going away, and to him, that means I want him.”

“And you don’t right?” He turned to face you directly as you took a seat on one of the chairs off of the kitchen. “Please, tell me you don’t.”

“Of course I don’t. You know how it is.” You started to cry. Johnny felt a little guilty for pleading. “But you know how he is. He heard us on the phone and flipped. Imagine if he knew I was here. Imagine if he knew that we were together.”

You didn’t hear the door open or shut as he came home. Your back was to the door. You were on the phone with Johnny, laughing and talking about your day. Diego didn’t like your tone. He didn’t like how happy you sounded. Why didn’t you sound like that when you talked to him? It didn’t help when he realized that he recognized the laugh and banter of the person on the other end. You? Talking to Johnny Joestar? He dropped his things onto the floor to startle you. You jumped and turned.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you-“

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He walked over to you. You hid the screen of the phone and looked up at him. He heard Johnny on the other end, confused as to why you cut yourself off.

“Why don’t you tell me who’s on the phone?” When you just stared back, he snatched the phone from your hand. He glanced at the caller screen and abruptly hung up, tossing your phone to the side.

“Would leaving him mean that he had to know? He doesn’t have to know we’re together; you can leave. You don’t have to explain anything. You don’t owe him a damn thing.” His voice was stern.

Johnny was getting frustrated. It had been months since you two talked about what you were. Weeks and weeks since you explained why you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Diego despite how much he knew you despised him. Johnny knew you loved him. He knew the love for Diego was close to nonexistent now. He could barely comprehend why you hadn’t left him.

You met his eyes and his brows were furrowed. You noticed he wasn’t wearing his lipstick. Maybe he hadn’t worn it all day. Maybe he had just taken it off. You would know, you thought, if you lived here instead of with Diego. You were about to respond, but the kettle cut you off. The few tears that you shed quickly dried on your cheeks and you sniffed.

Johnny poured the tea and you followed him to the living room. He placed the mugs on the coffee table and got himself onto the couch, letting you retake your previous position. He sighed and looked at you again, and this time you met his gaze right away, blue eyes immediately calming you down.

“Stay here.” His hand moved to your hair, running his hand through it before bringing it down to hold your face. You turned your head to kiss his hand, but didn’t meet his eyes again, instead placing your hand on his. “Please. Stay here.”

“You know how badly I want to. You know how much I-“

“Don’t say that you love me.” He placed his forehead on yours. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to hear him. “Don’t say that when I can’t see you every second of the day. Please, I can’t hear you say it when I know he still gets to hear the same, even if I know it’s all lies. Just tell me that you want me. Just tell me that you don’t want him. Promise me you’ll leave him.”

His eyes are cast down now and his breathing is just barely shaking. Your breath hitches as you wrap your arms around his neck and fall on top of him. He breathes in your hair and wraps his arms around you, and you adjust yourself so you’re in-between his legs and your head rests in the crook of his neck.

“When he’s at work tomorrow,” you start, “I’ll get as many of my things as I can.” He squeezes you tighter and you can practically feel the weight lift off of his chest. You lift your head and meet his eyes. God, he looks so relieved. And so beautiful in the dim light. “I want you. I want you so bad. I don’t want anybody else.”

[shorkbrian]

I guess the sane sibling (as in the one who isn't interested in their stepsibling not-platonically) is a rule to have a incest or pseudo-incest kink but it's just saddens my perverted sick fuck self 😭 I just wanted to yandere!step-bro Tamaki to be his creepy shy so I could (probably kill him in the process) worship his cock knowing the boy would jest get SO overwhelmed 🥴 I'm sorry but I want him to stuff his lil sis with his cum while he sobs 😭 when he sees it oozing out he would RIP

When I write a character to be yandere, it’s usually my intent to not glorify their behavior. If I were in the situation as reader, it would feel like a horror movie, bc yandere actions are so not cash money.

But I’m able to write like, non-yandere smut y’all. I’m still a dark content blog, and I’ll write kinks that are a bit.... well, dark, obvs lol you just gotta ask!

and since you did - 

(What to expect - incest, NSFW, unsafe sex, blowjobs, consensual sex, toys)

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“Tamaki?”

Your brother came around the corner, backpack still slung on his shoulder. Socked feet padded towards you on the couch, the ravenette shrugging his backpack off and gently setting it on the floor by the couch, before joining you as you sat on the plush cushions.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked, setting your textbooks on the coffee table in front of you before leaning against your older brother, rubbing his arm a little bit.

Both of you were in college, taking classes, working on the weekends to pay for the tiny little apartment you shared. 

Tamaki looked tired, eyes downcast, soft frown on his lips, shoulders slumped. he was a shy man, but he didn’t usually look so..... defeated when he normally returned home after class.

“Mm.” The man hummed, sinking against you, melting into your touch.

“You look tired ‘Maki.”

He hummed again, closing his eyes as he brought his feet up, curling them underneath him as he pressed against you. The soft sweater he was wearing brushed against your bare arms, a little bit of your exposed thigh.

You weren’t shy about what you wore around the house, but for your brother’s sanity, you tried to keep somewhat covered, foregoing sports bras and wearing tank tops instead, ditching booty shorts for slightly longer (but not by much) shorts that covered you more fully.

Wearing less clothing meant Tamaki was clumsier, fumbling with the remote, bumping against things while he walked, bright red flush coloring his cheeks and melting to his collarbones, all because his eyes were glued to you.

Plus, it meant the man struggled with constant erections. He tried to hide it, embarrassed at his body no matter how many times you’d told him you adored it.

Your brother was shy, too shy to come to you and initiate, to find relief where you so gladly offered it.

That just means you had to get real good at noticing when he needed to relax a little.

You pushed Tamaki upright, ignoring his cute whine as you slid off the couch to kneel in front of him, dancing your fingers along his jean-clad thighs.

“Tell me how your day went.”

Your hands gently pushed his thighs open, watching your brother’s lips part with a gasp as you handled him. His head fell back against the couch, dark hair falling away from his eyes.

He was so pretty.

“Uhm, it was nice.”

“Mmhm.” You unzipped his jeans, slowly peeling the fabric down, your brother lifting his hips to help you out, his hands clutching at his soft sweater.

Boxers came next, Tamaki gazing down at you with red cheeks as you slipped them off his legs.

“Well, I-I woke up on time this morning, and I made it to class before the professor.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Praise easily tumbled from your lips as you wrapped a loose hand around Tamaki’s pretty pink cock, squeezing the shaft gently.

“Bio and psych went well, I got my test scores for my language class, and-and I got a B+.” His breath hitched as you took your hands off his cock, bringing a palm up to your mouth so you could wet it with your tongue, get it nice and slick for when you touched him again.

“I-I ate lunch with Mirio... and then I had math...” HIs voice was getting quieter, mumbling.

Math was never his strong suit, and you know it was one of his most-hated classes. Luckily, it was just once a week, on Tuesdays.

“How’d that go?” Your hands were on his cock again, wet with your spit, twisting around his length slowly as you moved them up and down.

“Uh, it-it went alright. I-I just ha-hate math.” Tamaki whimpered, his hips bucking up a little as you squeezed his tip, watching precum bead before bubbling over.

“Mm, well, maybe you can tell me some of the concepts? I might be able to help you out with homework.”

Tamaki couldn’t even nod, nor thank you for your offer before you were slurping his cock into your mouth. The man cried out, soft voice rising in pitch as you swallowed around him.

You fluttered your eyelashes up at him, but that didn’t get his attention, so you resorted to a gentle tap to his thigh to remind him to keep talking.

“Oh, oh, uhm... There’s..... ah...s-statistics. We-we’re learning how to.... how to display, and de-scrIBE-oh!” He lurched upwards, fingers flying to your hair as you used your tongue to play with the opening at the top. You could feel his little sweater paws as Tamaki gently fisted your hair.

Another gentle tap to his thigh.

“There’s also-also.... ohhh, uhm-ah! There’s.... prob-probablity, and I don’t.... unhh, unh-don’t get it at-at all...” His sentence ended on a breathy whine as you began bobbing your head. His voice was so cute, so pretty just like the rest of him, smooth and sweet.

“Oh, (Y/N), yes, yes! Can I-can I cum? Please?”

It had only been a few minutes, but Tamaki was close to the edge, slim thighs tensing behind your head as you considered his request.

You popped off his length, licking your lips and ignoring his pleading whine.

“Of course baby boy, always-” A soft kiss was laid against his thigh, and Tamaki threw his head back, thin chest heaving underneath his cute sweater, his face bright red.

He got overwhelmed at the littlest things.

Once his cock was back in your mouth, it took a tiny bit of work to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head, swirling your tongue, hollowing your cheeks and really sucking.

Those pretty moans echoed throughout the tiny apartment, filling up the space, filling your ears, making you want to smile. He was a sweet man, and you were glad to be so close to him.

A moment more and he was cumming, hot seed dripping down your throat, his fingers twisted in your hair, balls drawn up and pulsing against your chin.

-----

“Tamaki, you already got to cum and I didn’t.” You pouted, sitting on your bed.

You had helped your younger brother wash-up, licking his spent cock clean before tucking him back into your pants. Climbing up into his lap to boop his nose and whisper an “I love you” into his ear, grinding against his thigh in the process.

He had gotten his release, and now you were hungry for your own.

“Don’t be greedy-” Your fingers plunge into your cunt over and over, palm grinding against your clit as you stretch yourself out, watching Tamaki through hooded eyes as he sits obediently at the foot of your bed.

“Please, I-I just wanna t-touch myself a l-little?” His hands are pinching at his bare thighs, desperate to fist themselves around his dripping cock. You’d told him to be good and stay still and watch as you got yourself ready, and he had been.

Tamaki was just needy.

“Okay, but just a little, okay? No cumming.”

“Thank you, oh, thank you-” The man breathes, hands flying to wrap around his cock, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips bucked up a little towards the pressure.

You giggle a little at how cute he is, those big indigo eyes focusing back onto you again, dropping to your wet fingers as you eagerly fuck yourself on them.

But it’s not enough, and you want more.

A quick search through your bedside drawer and you find your vibrator, quickly flicking it on, watching Tamaki gulp as you bring it against your cunt. You sigh as it makes contact, the buzzy, rumbly sensation traveling through your thighs as you easily grind your hips forward against the wand.

“Mmh, I’ve been thinking... ooo, that feels so nice.” You moan, placing a hand behind you so you can steady yourself as you begin to hump against your vibrator. “I’ve been thinking though, that I should get you some-oh-get you some toys.”

Tamaki whimpers, high and pitched, and you smile when his cock visibly throbs. The man has to clench a fist around the base, squeezing hard to stop himself from humming.

“You like that idea? Yeah?”

He nodded, hair bobbing as his head moved enthusiastically.

“You’d look so pretty with a cock ring, mm, you would. And-oh, I could get one that vibrates, and it’ll feel like heaven when you fuck me.”

Your pussy was gushing, throbbing against the wand. You didn’t want to cum too soon, so you flicked it off, before crawling towards your brother.

“We could get you a nice little plug, maybe one that vibrates? And you could keep it in allllll day. You could go to class with it, and jerk yourself off in the bathrooms. I’d love if you sent me a video of you moaning my name as you cum into the toilet.”

The man whined again, his hips bucking up.

You giggled, rising to your knees so you could straddle the man, a hand finding his hard cock beneath you, lining it up to your dripping cunt.

“Would you like that ‘Maki?”

“Yes, yes-oh s-so much, please, that sounds-gUH!” His words choked off into a pathetic moan as you sank down on his length, and you sigh at the feeling of fullness.

Tamaki presses a hand over his mouth, embarrassed by the needy moans that he’s unable to suppress, hips bucking up against your warmth, trying to seat himself deeper.

“Don’t cover your mouth, I wanna hear you. You feel so good inside me.” You coo, using your thighs to bounce a little on his cock.

His hand falls to the side, and you lean forward to kiss him, letting your tongue play with his, slick, wet sounds filling the room.

And then you tell him to fuck you.

The man doesn’t hold back, greedy, slender hands fixing themselves around your waist as his hips work, pushing himself inside your cunt again and again and again.

Both of you are breathing heavily, and it feels so good, the way he fucks you.

“Oh fuck, keep going, ‘m almost there!” You pant, reaching a hand down to play with your clit, four fingers rubbing across the little nub as you climb higher and higher.

And when you cum, it’s with a full-body shudder, a cry tumbling from your lips as you slam your hips against your brothers.

Tamaki tumbles over the edge soon after, barely managing to pull free from your slick cunt before his cock is bursting with cum, painting the soft skin of your tummy with his release.

You rest against him, laying your head on his shoulder as you pant onto his skin, satisfied and warm.

When you gather your bearings, you shuffle off his lap, searching through the covers to wind the wand you’d previously dropped.

“You’re such a good boy ‘Maki, but I wanted you to cum inside-” You were pouting again as you held up the vibrator, waving it in the air.

Tamaki looked like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“I’m gonna play with you a bit until you get hard again, and then I’m going to put your tip inside me-just the tip- and you’re going to cum while I use the vibrator on you, got it?”

The man shivers in anticipation, and you smile.

You love each other so much.

[sourholland]

Ooooh angst “what about us?” “there is no us, there never was.” with tom plssss! Really love ur work 🌸

Last Kiss || Tom Holland

Summary → After a fling you and Tom had started while filming a movie together, he tells you that you two can’t be together anymore. Once you get home, Tom let’s you know that he made a mistake.

AN → This was supposed to come out yesterday, I just got lazy and waited to edit it. I can’t tell if I like how this came out or hate it, either way, I hope you guys like this. Also in honor of the Fearless re-record!!

Pairing(s) → Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language, Suggestive, Alcohol Use

Prompt(s) → 38

Word Count → 1.9k

The ringing of your phone sounded through your apartment loudly, the sound of the rain pattering loudly against the windows out-looking New York City. You set down the remote, feet padding against the cold hardwood while you looked for your buzzing cellphone.

You didn’t bother glancing at the caller ID, picking it up bringing it to your ear all in one quick motion.

“Hello?” You said, pulling a wine glass down from the cabinet.

“Y/N?” Tom’s voice came through the phone.

Your heart dropped, a breath catching in your throat while you stood in your kitchen. He was across the country, wanting nothing to do with you. He repeated your name through the phone, asking if you were there.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answered, pouring more wine than you’d originally intended into the glass.

“Isn’t it like one in the morning in England?” You asked, listening to the muffles coming through the speaker.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s late here. I just couldn’t sleep, and I started to think of you. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called.”

You sat at one of the barstools, swirling the red contents of the glass around. You wanted to yell at him, or maybe you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You sat silently for a few moments, bare legs cold from the draft.

“Tom,” you started. “I just don’t get why we have to rehash the past, you know? I came back to New York, just like you told me I should. You’re working on whatever new movie, I’m doing the same. I don’t know—I just think we should leave whatever happened between us alone. You made it very clear that it was me that you didn’t want,” you mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.

He audibly sighed, the ruffling of sheets coming through the phone. He was probably in bed, if he wasn’t so far away you’d have asked him if this was a sad attempt at getting you to sleep with him.

“I was fucking stupid, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve said that a million times,” his voice was hoarse and tired.

“I’ve already forgiven you, Tom. I just can’t keep doing this—this thing with you.”

You both went quiet for a minute, the only sound being the noise from outside in the bustling streets of the city and the rain. You knew you should hang up, block his number and forget about anything you two ever had. You’d tried a few times, unable to bring yourself to doing it.

“What about us?” He asked lowly, a twinge of hurt in his tired voice.

“There is no us, Tom,” you replied. “I’m not even sure there ever was.”

He didn’t say anything, you wanted to let out the repressed cry and tell him you didn’t mean it. That you were sorry and that you thought about him more than you’d like to admit. Something in you knew if you didn’t do your best to cut it off, you two would continue down the same everlasting cycle.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.”

The line went silent for a moment, and then your home screen lit up. The call had been ended. You downed the remainder of your wine, ditching the cup and just going for the bottle. You thought about calling him back, about apologizing and booking a plane ticket like some lovesick teenager.

You opened Instagram and began scrolling through your feed of posts, liking and commenting occasionally. You weren’t anywhere near drunk, merely tipsy and heartbroken. Your finger lingered on the button to go live, wondering if you really wanted thousands of people to see you in this state.

You left the kitchen and instead propped your phone against the couch, taking a seat on the white rug of your living room. You wearily pressed the go live button, raising the bottle to your chapped lips once more. You are pathetic, you thought.

“Hey guys!” You smiled at the camera and outpouring of greetings in the comments. Within a few minutes you’d racked in a few thousand viewers. You grabbed the guitar sitting against your wall and strummed the cords lightly while it sat in your lap.

userone: you are so adorable

usertwo: can you please say hi?!!!??

userthree: it’s my birthday y/n!

“I’m sorry I haven’t been very active on social media, guys. It’s been super crazy traveling back and forth from London to New York and then having to leave again in a few weeks. And now I’m sitting on my living room floor with a bottle of wine,” you laughed. A few familiar people popped into the comments of the live, some you’ve worked with and some you’ve yet to meet in person.

florencepugh: y/n!!!

gracieabrams: might just bust out the wine just for u

“Florence, I can’t wait to see you soon!” You smiled, “Gracie, I swear it’s making everything like a hundred times better.”

userfour: i’m in love with her

userfive: y/n saving 2021???!!!

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be singing,” you flushed. You did sing, before getting into acting you’d post a lot on Instagram and TikTok. It’d always been more of a hobby, something you loved to do, but weren’t good enough to pursue.

“I’ve had a little too much to drink,” you added. “So don’t get upset if I’m a little pitchy, guys.”

usersix: if she’s pitchy i’m not sure what i am

userseven: sing taylor swift!!!

“Okay, okay!” You chuckled, scrolling through the hundreds of comments saying to play Taylor Swift. You’d only just been crying to like three of her albums a few hours before.

“How about the chorus—and maybe the bridge too, yeah, that’ll work,” you mumbled to yourself, fiddling with the strings. “Alright, guys, Last Kiss it is. I won’t bore you all with the whole thing, though. I could never do Taylor justice.”

“And I’ll go sit on the floor, wearing your clothes”

Getting involved with him was singlehandedly the most stupid decision you’ve ever made, you thought. Late nights in his flat after long nights on set, ordering in and just talking, you two would talk as if you’d known each other your whole lives. It was something about the way he’d let you wear his clothes, or the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear while you told him about whatever insignificant thing that had happened that day.

“All that I know,

I don’t know how to be something you miss”

The car ride to the airport was the worst, it was grey and cold outside. There was makeup running down your face, mascara covering your eyes generously. You’d wrapped filming a week earlier, unable to bring yourself to walk away from him.

You couldn’t tell the driver to turn you around, or could you? Tom had already made it clear that you were both in different places in your career. This wasn’t what he wanted. You weren’t what he wanted.

“I never thought we’d have our last kiss”

He had held you just a little tighter, you ran your fingers through his hair for just a second longer. The taste of each other lingering on the both of your lips. Like you knew it would be the last time he’d hold you without knowing.

His stupid smiled, the way he pulled away and ran his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. You were almost wrapped around his finger, absolutely sickened with desire and infatuation for him.

“I never imagined we’d end like this,

Your name, forever the name on my lips”

The day you’d left to come home to New York started with a huge argument between the two of you. He’d basically just told you that you’d both known from the beginning you wouldn’t last together. It wasn’t a matter of how much you cared for one another, but that it was impossible, as he put it.

His eyes glossed over and bloodshot, you a complete and utter mess. Slamming the door behind you as you left was one of the most painful things you’d ever endured. Even more painful, the fact that he never came after you.

“So I’ll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep”

“I can feel you staring at me, love,” he murmured against the pillow.

Your face heated, eyes averting to the stream of light through the sheerness of the curtains. He leaned into you a moment later, his lips soft on your own. He was warm, he was always so warm. You cupped the side of his face gently, pulling him in a bit harder.

“And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe”

You dropped your bags, stepping into your apartment after months of being away. It felt quieter than usual, desolate and empty from your being away. It was dark out, the illumination of the bright city lights from your windows.

You glanced down at your phone for a moment, not a missed call, not a text, not even a fucking notification. He’d simply told you to go home, nothing more nothing less.

“I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are,

Hope it’s nice where you are”

You’d texted Harrison a few times, regretting it almost immediately after. He was sweet, telling you that Tom would come around eventually and to just be patient. You’d relied on those kind words for some time, eventually deleting them all together.

After Tom’s first text, you’d realized he wasn’t coming around or regretting what he’d said to you. He was lonely, maybe even a bit desperate. For months you had been there to listen to him and hold him, and now you were gone.

You’d fed into it the first few times, sitting on the phone with him for hours at a time. Then you started to feel worse hearing his voice, silent sobs escaping as you’d listen to him ramble. Then your finger would linger over the decline button a little longer than usual when he’d call, until eventually you started to use it.

“And I hope the sun shines and it’s a beautiful day,

And something reminds you,

You wish you had stayed”

Once you started to go out with other guys, Tom’s ‘I miss you’ texts became more infrequent. Paparazzi would snap pictures, and the next morning they’d be plastered all over the internet.

There was no doubt he was seeing you going out with other people, watching article after article about who you were dating surface. Would he be jealous? No, you thought. Tom was probably doing the same thing as you. Hopeless hookups, meaningless blind dates.

“You can plan for a change in the weather and time”

One early morning, you found yourself in a sweatshirt you’d stolen from one of his drawers and forgotten to return. Listening to the morning rush of traffic and hugging yourself, noticing the lingering smell of his cologne.

You wondered if he knew you’d taken it, if he would think you were pathetic wearing it months after you two had broken things off. This only made you clutch yourself a little tighter, closing your eyes and trying to remember.

“But I never planned on you changing your mind”

[ray-ray-writings]

Auntie Flow-SBI Inc. (Techno, Wilbur, Tommy, and Philza)

This is a Brother!Technoblade & Brother!Wilbur Soot & Brother!Tommyinnit x gn!reader in the SBI Au! Y/N is younger than Wilbur and Techno but older than Tommy. Also, this imagine is gender neutral but there is talk of the reader being on their period. That being said I know that not everyone who gets their period identifies as a female which is why it’s gender neutral!

Check out my masterlist here

When Y/N isn’t up by their usual time, Dadza goes in to check on them. He soon realizes the problem and enlists in their brother’s help to make Auntie Flow’s visit go a little smoother. 

Y/N’s POV

Everything hurt. Last night before I went to bed, I noticed a little bit of blood in the toilet. I was a little thrown off because my period wasn’t supposed to start until next week. But just to be safe, I put on a pad anyway and went to sleep. Thank God I did. When I woke, I woke in a pool of my own blood. Despite the pad, I had bled through my underwear, pants, and onto my sheets. My stomach and back hurt like hell and I felt like curling in a ball and crying. 

I glanced at the clock beside my bed and found that I had slept in much later than normal, even for a Saturday morning. My father would probably be worried about me. My thoughts were confirmed by a small knock on the door. “Y/N?” Dadza called from the other side of the door, “You alright in there?” “Yes but no,” I called back weakly, the nausea a little too much for me to answer normally. 

The door opened and from over my blanket I could see the concerned face of my father. “Are you sick?” He asked, closing the door behind him. “Again, yes but no.” My father’s face shifted from concern to confusion. I let out a sigh before flipping the blanket off of me allowing my father to see the blood stain on the sheets. Recognition flashed his face before sympathy settled in place. “Oh honey, I thought you didn’t start till next week,” He said, moving closer to the bed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” I muttered, flipping the blanket back over my body. 

“Tell you what, how about you go shower. Get cleaned up and change into clean clothes and I’ll clean up your bed and replace your sheets,” Dadza offered, placing a comforting hand on my side. The warmth that radiated through caused me to sigh in contentment but I nodded nonetheless, “That sounds nice. Thank you dad.” “Anytime kiddo. Let’s get you up,” He replied, gently moving the blanket off of my body and helping me stand from the bed. 

I quickly made my way past my father to my drawers and pulled out a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and new undies before walking out of my room and to the bathroom. “Well there you are! Get enough sleep you lazy bum?” I heard Tommy’s voice ring out from the bathroom doorway. I let out a small sigh and closed my eyes, I really couldn’t do this right now. “Tommy, please. Just let me into the bathroom,” I softly pleaded, opening my eyes to stare into his blue ones. 

Tommy softened for a moment before the smirk appeared back on his face, “No! I think I’m going to take my sweet time in here, unless you tell me why it is you got up so late,” Tommy taunted. Anger flashed and I could feel my blood boiling at his stupid smirking face, “Tommy, I woke up this morning in a pool of my own blood, would you like me to end yours the same way?” 

Tommy’s face paled to a ghostly white. He cleared his throat before silently moving out of the doorway in the bathroom allowing me to silently move past him and slam the door close. I set my clean clothes on the bathroom counter before stripping off my dirty clothes. I turned on the cold water in the sink and did my best to rinse the blood out of my pants before laying them over to dry. I prepped my other clothes for when I got out of the shower, i.e. putting a fresh pad on my new underwear. 

The shower felt really nice on my skin. The warm water rinsing over all my tense muscles, relaxing them. My tummy and back still hurt a bit but the heat helped ease that pain. After the shower, I dried off before dressing in my comfy clothes. Before leaving the bathroom, I reached into the back of the cabinet and pulled out the Midol I kept for this time of the month. I popped two pills, washing them down with some water, before putting the bottle back and leaving the bathroom. 

I noticed the house was pretty quiet, which was really surprising for a Saturday. Maybe Tommy had gotten too freaked out thinking about periods and he is sitting quietly somewhere. I chuckled to myself as I opened my bedroom door, wimp. 

I was surprised at the sight in my bedroom. Not only were new sheets on my bed, but my three brothers were also laying on my bed. “What are you guys doing in here?” I questioned, moving a few more feet into my room. The three boys were sitting against the headboard and they each had things in their hands. “We saw Dad carrying your bedsheets and Tommy told us what you said to him, pretty funny if you ask me,” Techno explained. Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes at Techno’s words. “So we brought movies, snacks, and a heating pad. We were thinking we could just have a lazy day together, or we could just leave the things here if you want to be alone,” Wilbur explained, holding up the stack of movies in his hand before placing it down on his lap. 

Little tears pricked in my eyes at his words. “Yeah. That sounds great,” I sniffed, moving closer to my bed. None of them said anything about my over emotionalness, not even Tommy that loves to make fun of me. “Come here,” Wilbur coaxed, setting the movies to the side and opening his arms. I crawled into his lap and let him hug my body before I was passed to Tommy, who also hugged me and then to Techno who squeezed me tight. 

The whole day was spent cuddling in bed with my brothers. We watched a lot of movies and ate a lot of snacks. I would be cuddling with one brother and then the movie would end and I would switch to another brother. I don’t know if they even noticed, but the entire time I would be cuddling with one of the boys their hand would find my stomach and they would massage my tummy. Every so often, Dad would come in and check on us. He claimed that it was because it was so quiet he wanted to make sure we hadn’t killed each other yet, but I knew it was because he loved seeing us like this. Together, not at each other’s throats. He would stay for a few minutes, watching a little bit of the movie, before walking back out to ‘go do some work’. 

“What do we want to do now?” I questioned aloud as the last movie’s credit rolled. Tommy’s shoulders moved in a shrug, “Whatever you want,” he responded. I glanced at the time and found that it was a little past 6 pm. “I know we’ve been snacking all day, but I’m hungry. Do you think Dadza will let us get pizza?” I asked, looking over at all of them, my eyes landing on Techno as he was the one I was currently cuddled into. Techno also gave a half-shrug, “It’s worth asking.” 

Before I could move to stand up, a small knock sounded on my door and it swung open. “Hey kiddos. I got us some pizza if you guys wanna come down for dinner,” Dadza announced looking over us. Grins over took all of our faces as giggles bubbled from our throats. “What? What’s so funny?” Dadza asked, really confused as to what was happening. “Nothing. Nothing dad, it’s just that you read our minds,” I claimed with a giggle. A soft smile over took his face as he nodded, “Good. Then come on!” 

Wilbur and Tommy practically leaped off of my bed, racing each other to the door, throwing elbows the entire way, Philza following after them, calling for them to stop. When I didn’t move, Techno raised his eyebrow at me. “Why aren’t you moving? Didn’t you want pizza?” I simply stared at him with a small pout on my lips, “Carry?” I questioned softly. Techno let out a snort at the question, but he didn’t object. I let out a giggle as Techno stood with me attached to him with our chests pressed together with my arms around his neck and legs around his waist. 

Techno easily maneuvered his way out of my room and made his way to the stairs. “Before we go down, do you need anymore Midol from the bathroom?” Techno asked, adjusting so he could look at me. I gave a soft shake of my head, causing Techno to give me a soft nod before continuing down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Wilbur, Tommy, and Dadza were already seated around the kitchen table. Wilbur and Tommy’s mouths were alright filled with the pizza that our father had ordered. Techno set me down gently in my usually chair before taking his place beside me. “Thank you dad,” I thanked softly before putting a couple slices of pizza on my own plate. “Anything for my kiddos,” he chimed in response, beginning his own feasting of pizza. 

The rest of the night was filled with pizza, laughter and all together good times. We broke out a couple of board games as a movie played in the background for some white noise. Tommy, of course, nearly flipped the board when he realized he wasn’t winning and was only grappled to the ground by none other than Technoblade. Dadza, Wilbur, and I just watched in amusement as the to wrestled on the floor, inevitably knocking the coffee table over and flipping the game over anyway. Looking around at the room filled with my family, I realized that periods absolutely suck. But when you have the right people taking care of you, they’re not so bad sometimes. 

There you have it! I really hope you enjoyed, and if you did, be sure to leave a like!

[elysianslove]

heaven on your lips; matsukawa smau

synopsis; he finds refuge in that no matter what, you will always come back to him. he finds refuge in that he’s the sole reason for your pleasure and happiness. whether that be from the sidelines, or from within the four walls of your home, in the confines of your bedroom. no matter what, you’re his, and he’s yours, even if neither of you seem to notice it.

pairings; matsukawa issei x fwb!reader

genre; fluff, smut, humor

warnings; cursing and inappropriate language. nsfw and suggestive themes.

masterlist  |  previous , chapter fifteen , next

“you look so— good.”

it’s the first thing that you notice when you slide open your door to greet semi, at exactly seven minutes past five in the evening. he’s punctual, and you’re sure of that because you’d heard the roar of his car’s engine arrive at your door seven minutes earlier. you’re not too upset about this though, because you’d needed those extra seven minutes of preparation and self boost, as much as he apparently did too.

at your words, semi laughs lightly, and the second thing you notice is just how much prettier he is in real life. of course, you’d met him before, spent hours with him too. but seeing him in a different light, from a different perspective, and also with how the two of you are older now, it somehow makes him even more attractive. his hair is the same lovely silver, dipping into a darker tone at the ends, and it’s styled nicely, yet not too neatly: making an effort, but effortlessly. his smile is slight and simple, and it sends a flurry of butterflies to the pit of your stomach. you shiver to try to rid yourself of them.

you were right, for the matter. he does look really good. he dons a plain, loose and thick, lavender sweatshirt, which compliments his hair rather nicely. it’s tucked into his black trousers, which have a two chains dangling from one hook in the front to the back on his right hip, similar to the chain on your own skirt. to compliment the simplicity of his sweatshirt, he wears a couple of chain necklaces, paired with a small cross. you were really right. 

as your eyes travel back up to his face, you notice the light pink that’s dusting his cheeks, and instead of eliciting a cheeky, teasing remark from you, all it does is fluster you even more, and you shiver lightly. so instead, you ask, “ready to go?” 

he nods at you, smiling and muttering a simple, “whenever you are,” before he steps back to allow you space to leave and shut the door behind you. 

soon after you’re in his car, the neighborhood’s music playing in the background as he drives off. he has the windows down, the wind’s breeze welcome despite it tousling your hair. december weather is always perfect back home: it’s not snowing yet, so it’s not too cold, but it’s not the stifling heat of the summer either. it’s settling somewhere in between, enough to make it necessary to wear thicker layers, but not to the point that your fingertips purple.

the route he takes is not familiar, but you still recognize the streets. it’s not a reason for worry either way; this date is iwaizumi-approved after all. you enjoy the scenery as it dashes by you, making small talk with him, catching up slightly as he drives the two of you to your destination. 

“would it scare you too much if i asked you to put on a blindfold?” he asks, eyeing you slightly with a careful smile. 

you laugh, twisting in your seat to face him better. “depends; what’s it gonna be for?” you tease, and he gasps jokingly at your insinuation. 

“that sounds more like a second date activity than a first, don’t you think?” he retorts. 

you giggle, leaning your head against the passenger seat’s headrest, watching him as he drives. he has a really nice side profile. a nice everything. “aw, already thinking of the second date?” you say. he only hums in amusement to humor you, pulling out the blindfold from his pocket and handing it to you. “alright, my life’s in your hands now, pretty boy,” you tell him, before you lift up the cloth, and tie it at the back of your head. 

when semi unlocks your car door, you try not to resort to your other senses as he leans down and takes your hand, leading you out of the car. his hands are firm, grasping yours steadily and firmly, and the pads of his fingers are calloused, a symbol of his musical talent. when your fingers brush against the back of his hand, you find it so soft, veins barely evident underneath your touch. 

“careful, don’t trip,” he guides you, and you hear the car door shut behind you. wherever he’s taken you, there seems to be a lot more wind, and excitedly, you squeeze his hand, letting him lead the way, before, a couple steps later, he comes to a stop. you do too, and you hear him step behind you, feel his hands brush lightly against your hair as he tentatively undoes the blindfold. “moment of truth,” he whispers, before finally the blindfold falls, and your eyes blink back open. 

your breath hitches in your lungs, and you freeze, eyes frozen on the scenery before you. you’re at a beach, the shore a little bit further away from you, the sun hanging low, cascading a pink and orange simmer on the waves. once given the okay to feel and smell all around you, the sea salt breeze rushes through you, and you shiver, but it’s not from the cold. it’s from just how thought out this is. there’s a blanket spread out on the sand, plain white, with two pillows and food spread out. there’s fruit, bread, ramen, drinks, everything. and on the picnic basket in the corner, there is another, smaller bouquet of flowers, simple daisies. he planned a beach picnic. 

he planned a beach picnic. 

holy shit.  

“semi,” you gasp out, finally managing to turn to face him. he’s eyeing you carefully, observing your expression in an attempt to read it. “semi this is—”

he laughs lightly at your speechlessness, and walks closer to you, closer to the setup, outstretching a hand. “after you,” he urges. 

you look back quickly at the blanket spread out by your feet, before gazing back at him, and in a sudden rush, you reach out for him, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady him, and leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“oh,” he sighs, breath staggering as you step back. 

“thank you,” you whisper, smiling at him brightly. he smiles back. 

by the time you’ve finished your ramen, sipped on your drink, and have begun snacking on the fruit semi’s brought, the sun is dipping further down, illuminating your surroundings barely. he’d come prepared though and had brought out two lamps, placing them between the two of you. as you stick your toothpick in another piece of fruit, you listen intently as he speaks, telling you of some hilarious rampage him, tendō and ushijima had gone on. 

“you three were pretty close, huh?” you mumble, shifting so that you lean on one hand to your side, your legs spread out elegantly to your other side. 

he nods. “yeah we spent a lot of time together,” he replies. “what with school, volleyball, and the dorms.” at the mention of this, he laughs, before continuing, “yeah don’t get me started on the dorms and the shit tendō would drag us into.” 

you laugh with him. 

“what about you?” he adds. “you and your third years were also pretty close, weren’t you. i saw you at a couple of their games.” 

you hum, sitting up straighter. “i grew up with oikawa and iwa, so i’ve known them my whole life.”

he looks surprised at that, asking, “you— you did? i didn’t imagine the three of you went this far back.” 

“oh yeah since diapers,” you say, giggling lightly. “oikawa i’ve known maybe two years longer, since our mothers were friends, and then iwa moved in right by us and it was like fate really.” 

his mouth falls open, and he breaths in steadily, as if about to speak up. but then his eyes falter, and he sighs instead. instead of mentioning it, you pick up a cherry stem, two red cherries hanging off on either end, and pop one in your mouth, spitting out the seed before eating the other one. he watches your mouth part carefully as you take the other seed out, fiddling with the stem in your fingers. 

“can you tie a knot?” he asks, curious. 

“hm?” 

he nods at the stem in your hand, pointing a finger barely, before asking again, “can you tie a knot with your tongue?” 

you raise a brow at him. “maybe.” 

he grins at you, before suddenly, he’s a lot closer. “show me,” he encourages. you see his eyes flicker to your lips, to the stain of red from the cherries you’d just eaten, and reflexively, you bite on your bottom lip, muffling your laugh. otherwise, you do as he asks, and brings the cherry stem in your mouth, placing it on your tongue. 

you yourself have settled closer to him, and you’re not sure when this tension had built all of a sudden, but you welcome it. with the cold that’s pinching at both your revealed skin, his cheeks are dusted pink, and so is the tip of his nose. his hair, longer than it had been in your high school years, covers the tips of his ears, but the breeze shifts it, and you notice how red they are too. maybe it’s the dimming light around you that’s set the mood like this, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re all technically alone, secluded away in this corner of the beach. either way, you feel your nerves alight as his eyes remain on you, as your tongue moves and twists and your teeth pull at the stem. and when it’s all done, when you’ve tied the knot, you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out and revealing the stem to him, and he visibly shivers. 

taking it between your fingers, you showcase it to him. “that’s what i like to call talent,” you joke, twisting the stem between your fingers. 

“can i kiss you?” 

the question forces you back slightly, throwing you off guard for a second, but you drop the stem without another moment of hesitation, and gasp out, “yes,” and his hands are settling on your cheeks and bringing you to him before you could think. you welcome the taste of him on your lips, kissing him back. although he seems eager, he feels gentle. he’s testing out the waters, letting you slightly take the lead, so you do, leaning closer, kissing him harder, breathing him in, leaning into his touch. as he deepens the kiss, encouraged by your actions, you sit up. his mouth doesn’t leave yours once as you push yourself closer to him, hands blindly reaching for him until finally, you settle on his lap. his hands leave your face at that, dipping down to your waist, welcoming the new position. 

it’s when his hands grip your waist, caress down to your hips and squeeze at your thighs that you realize— he’s different. he feels different, smells and tastes different. his hands don’t necessarily feel wrong, because they feel good on you. you want more, want him to push you flush against him, want to press your lower body harsher on him, want to kiss him till he’s breathless. you do, you want to so much. 

and yet, even if it doesn’t feel wrong, it also doesn’t feel right. 

there’s something missing, something you can’t identify. you kiss him harder, pushing away at the thoughts, trying to lose yourself in him, in all of him. he gasps against you as you grip at his sweater, your hands trailing upwards tangling in his hair, pulling and tugging. his moans are muffled against your mouth and you swallow them eagerly, hips rutting against him, your own gasps tumbling out. 

still, there’s something missing. 

you’re unable to dwell on it for too long as he grabs a firmer hold on your body, and twists you, pushing you down onto the blanket. 

end note; i’m v sorry to have kept you guys waiting so long for this chapter omg, but i hope it didn’t disappoint at all. i’m nervous to post it uh oh. anyways! things are gonna get so good ugh i miss issei 

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[deaconusdelirium]

Um so I don't actually know how to submit a request so, I've never done it before, but I hope this is right.

So I read this enemies to lovers with Tech where the reader is the Batch's new mechanic/medic/pilot (y'know something like that) and Tech is constantly trying to outsmart the reader and is kinda rude to her. So I am requesting either that or Tech and reader are already together and Tech makes a comment that hurts the readers feelings but Tech doesn't understand why she's upset cause he was merely stating "factual evidence". Also can the reader be female or like no gender. I hope I did this right.

Time will tell

(Tech X F!Reader)

Oh yeah! Either way is good, but I prefer taking requests in DM’s. I’m originally from a different writing platform and I took requests directly in messages, but send in an ask like this is good too. I don’t mind either way. That goes for everyone else who doesn’t know how to send in a request!^^

I love the first one, and I have a little something for that

———

“And that’s… Tech” Hunter sounded disappointed as he seen his brother not only did not look up, but didn’t say anything as he introduced you to your new team, Tech just gave a small wave without looking up and walking off. “He’s a busy guy, I presume” you spoke, watching ‘Tech’ walk off and into their ship. “You’ll get use to him, he’s not all that bad. The worse he could do is fill your head with useless info for hours on end” Hunter explained while putting a hand between your shoulders, guiding you into the Marauder. Ok, so it might have been a bit small but at least you were off Kamino where everything was too sterile and creepy looking. You were all alone in your room after all, no one ever really came in but a few clones, Nala Se and Omega usually handled them all though.

You gave another look around, making sure you tried to memorize everything. “We have a mission in a few hours, so I suggest you grab what you need from your place” “oh, no. I’ve got all I need, I’m going to head back and tell Nala Se we’re leaving soon” you walked out, Hunter nodded in agreement. “Well, we’ll tell you when we’re ready” you nodded, walking away from the ship and back into Kamino to Nala Se

—

Tech had only ever heard your voice, and by the sound of it. He was already annoyed, since when was there ever another person who does exactly as he does? It was only him, but.. the thought of sharing ideas and thought with someone else ‘smart’ would be nice. But no, he wouldn’t take it. He had to see for himself, he was sure you were going to fail, and he surely wasn’t going to be pushed aside, especially for all he’s ever done for his brothers. You weren’t the one who upgrades their armor for them, you’re not the one who has a datapad much like he has, and you couldn’t possible know anything about mechanics. He’s never met anyone who knew as much as he did, and if he hasn’t within his life, then there’s probably no such thing as it.

—

He thoughts were cut short, when you sat in the co-pilot seat next to him. Only Echo sat there, maybe Hunter on some occasions, he still didn’t look, and he grew annoyed as you tried to tell him what to do. “Do you even know what planet we are on?” Tech asked, finally looking at you, “what does that have to do with this? You haven’t told me where we are and I’m stuck with you. So if you could just focus on the task at hand then maybe we could actually try and get along” you spoke, his eyes widen at your words, he didn’t want you to know anything. It may sound selfish, but he thought of it as a training, I guess you could say. How would you go about in a situation where you don’t know where you’re at, and what you’re doing? What is your next steps for an unexpected change of plans?

His gaze was still hard on you, how could you know something about flying? “Tech, if you don’t help them, Omega and Hera could be shot down” you sounded desperate, but he was the one in charge. He was the one flying, you weighed your options, you didn’t know what to do. He only sat there, observing you like it was his job. “Forgive me” you apologized to him as you pushed him out the seat and took over the wheel. “Hey” Tech called from the floor, standing up, but soon holding onto your seat as he seen what you were going to do. “Hang on Wrecker!” You warned the man in the back, you pushed the petal as Tech almost flew back and Wrecker yell from the back. You turned the ship around for Wrecker so he could take out the cannons.

Tech held on as your flying was not something he was expecting, once you had all of the turrets down and Wrecker finished off the clones on the ground, you stood up, grabbing your helmet and gun. Tech grabbed your arm before you ran out, “hey-” you spoke, “careful with my ship next time” he glared at you, but Wrecker broke the both of you up by running through his grasp on your arm. “Your ship Tech? Or all of ours? She did great!” Wrecker said, hitting you on your shoulder as he laughed and ran off. “Still, we got what needed to be done, I suggest we drop this.. this argument and actually help. And for your information, we’re al Ryloth” you ran after Wrecker, and Tech stood there. You were stubborn alright, but that doesn’t mean you were better than him. No, he won’t allow it

—

After Hera was reunited with her parents and uncle, you all took off. For their brother Crosshair was after them, maybe even you now since you were with the Batch. Taking a deep breath in, and letting it out, you continued to clean your helmet, a few new scratches, but nothing bad. “Y/n?” Omega asked you, coming up and holding your shoulder as she stood on one leg. “What’s wrong Omega?” You asked, looking at her leg, “I got a cut, and my legs hurting. Could you look at it for me?” She asked, sitting on the chair in front of you as she turned to meet your body. “Yeah, let me just grab my stuff, stay right there” you told her as you stood up, walking to grab your bag and come back. You pulled her pants up to her knee, seeing a small scrape on it, “hmm, you only scraped it, nothing too bad if we clean it. Glad you came right on time” you tried to lift her mood up. Looking like you did since she laughed and held Lula.

“This might sting a little, but it won’t hurt” you showed her the bottle, calming her down as she was worried what you had in hand. She gave a small nod, handing it back to you, you smiled and slowly poured the liquid over the cut. She winced, hugging Lula tighter as you grabbed a bacta pad and placed it over her knee. “Alright, that should be good. Come back later for another cleaning, I’ll remind you so don’t worry, and if the ache still continues after a few minutes. Tell me so I can give you some medicine, it might be from all the time you haven’t treated it, but be careful next time” you pulled her pants down, patting her lower leg as she set it down. “So you aren’t going to treat the ache she has?” Tech asked, datapad obviously in hand as he watched you, “Tech! She cleaned it up just now, I should be fine. I think it was just dirty” Omega spoke, Tech looked at her, the back at you, he walked over to another seat, making Omega face him as he turned the chair. “What are you doing?” Omega asked as Tech pulled her pants up again.

Taking the tape off and looking at her scrape, he almost nodded in approval, but stopped himself. “Oh come on, I’m not going just throw a bacta pad on there and say I’m done” you told him, “still, you could have left out an important part” he spoke, Omega watched, “and just because you’re a medic, doesn’t mean you know it all” he harshly said, you wanted to just leave, everyone’s been nice except for Tech, “yeah? Well just because your name is ‘Tech’ doesn’t mean you’re actually a technician. You can multitask yet I haven’t spoken one word about your work” you spoke up, gathering your things and leaving. Omega watched as it all unfolded before her, “that was a bit rude Tech, maybe try and be nice, she’s new. You’re probably making her feel bad” Omega defended you

Tech took his helmet off, watching you walk off and disappear down the hall. “Maybe we only needed one, medic aboard. That was only a small scratch Omega, anyone could treat that” he stood up, “maybe you think we only need one medic, but I think differently. You should respect her more, I came to her because you were busy making repairs, and I’m glad to have let you work while she wasn’t busy. She even helped us back on Ryloth” it wasn’t new that Omega put yet another one of her brothers in place. She was right, you did save them, and treat her. He bet, if she would have went to Wrecker, he would have only plugged it up with trash and dirt then throw a bandaid on it.

Omega walked out the cockpit, Lula in her hands as Tech was left alone. So what you knew how to fly and treat a small wound, anyone could do that… anyone who knew what they were doing. And he was intrigued at how much you knew and what you’ve done.

—

Everyone sat in their seat, you sat behind Echo as he sat in the co-pilot chair. Your hands gripping the pen as you worked an equation out on a piece of paper. Tech heard you whisper quite loudly the numbers, so he worked it out in his head as he watched the stars go by while in hyperspace. “205” he said, you looked up, sighing in annoyance and putting on a fake smile, “thanks Tech, I’m sure me working it out and trying a different way of solving this problem was to easy for you. What a pity, me working with pen and paper as you have a datapad? What was I thinking?” You scoffed out, Echo laughed a bit at your bite back. Tech turned to you, “what do you mean ‘a different way’?” He asked, you threw the paper at him as he caught it then glaring at you for doing so.

His eyes scanned over the numbers, this wasn’t right. None of this was, “give me the pen” he spoke, you looked at him, “what for?” “Just give me the pen” he demanded as you shook your head no. Echo was curious to see what you both were arguing about, his head peaked over the paper and was met with messy writings and scrambled numbers. “How can you read that thing?” You heard Echos disbelief in his voice, “here, I’ll explain it” you reassured him as you clicked the pen. Tech watched as you began to explain what this new trick was. He was fascinated, he found himself looking up your arm until he watched your face as you spoke about something that actually interested you… interested him.

He continued to hold the board with the paper on it for you while you worked it out, circling the answer. He wasn’t sure why, but when you turned to Echo to talk about it, he was quite jealous. Echo wouldn’t understand, but Tech did, why didn’t you argue with him about it. He hesitantly tapped two fingers on your shoulder, you turned and faced him, “perhaps, we could further discuss what you put into motion here? I could teach you some new things as well” he offered, Echo had seen his frail to finally try and get closer to you. He stood up, “excuse me” he walked off, giving you and Tech the time together. “Not sure, I feel like you’re only going to insult me further while thinking you’re smarter, you also offered me something. Don’t know if I should take it that you want something or you hit your head” you crossed your arms, looking at him. “I assure you, I have something’s I would like to share” he lightly laughed.

You thought about it, “fine, but if anything” you threatened him, “there no need to get hostile with me now Y/n, I want to see just how much you know” he leaned back into his seat, arms and legs crossed as he eyed you down. But if anything did happen, the Batch was on board. You sat in the seat Echo sat in before, questioning your choice on agreeing.

—

It seems Tech had underestimated you to soon, you we’re definitely smarter than he had thought. Was there actually someone just like him? Someone who he could rely on and wouldn’t have to explain too, mainly going into details. But you, oh you… you just gave him this feeling. He didn’t want you to leave the seat when you both sat, it was interesting seeing how you knew some things he didn’t. You both shared theories and facts about unusual things people would have probably brushed off and thought was annoying or just plain boring. He found himself moving ever so closer to you when you both started getting into.. deeper matters. What you did on Kamino versus what he does for the galaxy with his brothers. You told him how you wanted to get off the planet and explore while he suggested he explores all the time.

That was until you both found each other, knees touching while you both leaned forward. It was wrong, you abruptly stood up, “I’m sorry Tech, I shouldn’t have” you fixed your armor and set out. Just what happened there?

He didn’t have feelings for you, if he did. It’d most likely be jealousy and anger, for he didn’t want to be replaced for someone they had just met. He was their brother, you can’t just remove them from their life. Now you were off somewhere in the ship, probably have already forgotten about him. But his thoughts were stuck on you, was he too mean to you? Now that whenever he got close, you either brushed him off or you walked away. But what if he wasn’t, would you two have been closer? Together perhaps? It was like talking to himself, actually finding interest in the conversation. Feelings were never in his area of expertise, so he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling at the moment. He was sure to keep an eye on it and write down anything he feels on his datapad, maybe even do some research.

—

“Y/n!” “Coming!��� You replied to Echo as he yelled for your assistance. Walking down the hall to to Echo kneeling before the console trying to fix whatever he was trying to. “Yeah?” You asked, “I need..” he trailed off, trying to get the control panel fixed. “Oh! I’ve done this plenty of times back on Kamino for the clones’ ship when they got back” you spoke while kneeling next to him, undoing the wires as he looked at you, “what are you doing?” “Relax, you can’t just keep the control panel like this, you have to make sure it clean, this this part” you pointed to the corner of the panel as there was dirt inside, “that’s blocking this part, from entering. So brush this aside, and put it back. Now you’re going to want to make sure all the wires and whatnot are still good. Some could burn out and that could ruin the whole thing, and then you’d have to replace it all. But other times, it just needs a little cleaning” you walked him through it, telling him what goes where and how to clean the board without ruining it, while still making it easy for him to understand without using the big confusing words

He nodded, understanding, “Tech would never say anything like this. He does all the repairs like this, the only time he needs help is when he needs tools or for us to hold something” “Ah, I see. I’m sure he means well. I never had anyone to talk to about this and it feels good to finally share some knowledge” you told him to screw the panel back on. He stood up, offering you his hand and helping you up. “Thanks” “no problem, you learn something new everyday” Echo laughed at your joke, giving you a pat on the shoulder and walking off. You kneeled back down picking up the tools and gathering them into a bag. Another pair of hands helped you, as you looked up, you noticed he had no thigh armor. Tech.

“Thank you Tech, you didn’t have to-” you were pushed on your back as Tech was on top of you. You groaned at the pushed, opening your eyes to see Tech giving you a kiss. Your senses finally returning as you felt the harsh action, making your lips hurt. He softened the kiss, making you now blush as you laid there under him. He pulled back, “T-Tech?” You let out the breath you held in, “Y/n. I’m so sorry about before” your brow furrowed in confusion. “What for?” “All those words, bringing you down. It’s wrong now and it was wrong then, but how could I have not appreciated your actions before?” He questioned himself as you now remembered all those things he said and what he did to try and put you down.

“I can’t let someone, so good and loving leave. I’ve seen the way you treat Omega and my brothers when I’m not there too, you’re smart and beautiful. Yet you’re ready for battle when you’re thrown into it. I’ve been thinking, about my feelings, and… and us” your eyes widen at the last part. About, you? Him? Together? You haven’t thought about it, maybe once but that was when you both were talking that night in the cockpit, he was rude and unforgiving when you were introduced and given a task, always saying he knew and could do better than you. And that your tactics were sloppier than his, and to be frank, he didn’t mean that. It was his feelings he was confused about, “Tech.. I actually don’t know what to do. While you say you’ve thought of us, I haven’t, maybe once but that was wrong. We could never work out” you confessed, his gloved hand on the side of your head as he stroked a few hairs out of your face.

He sighed, thinking. This time it was his heart speaking, not his brain, this has nothing to do with what he normally did. So he had to wing it. “Tell me. What do I need to do to show you, how much I appreciate and want you by my side? Tell me what’s making you feel uncomfortable about us and how I can help. I’m willing to give this a chance if you are” he sounded desperate, the first time you’ve heard him like this. But you had to think on it, he was just as smart, maybe even smarter, he was blunt which made you not have to worry about his opinions on others and how you feel. And he was strong, both mentally and physically. You’ve never met someone as close knowing and interesting like you.

“I.. I’m willing to give this a chance as well” your hand came up to his hair, then pulling him down for another loving kiss. All those problems and feelings he couldn’t explain and work out, have now blown away. If seemed like being close to you felt like ecstasy, your aura felt so welcoming and warm. His lips ghosted over yours before coming down for another. This new found feeling was something he could get use to, yours lips felt so soft against his, your fingertips slightly trailed along his jawline and cupped his cheek. “We, better get up before someone sees us” you suggested, he nodded. A quick kiss on the side of your mouth was given before he got up. Pulling you along. He wanted to see where this relationship would take him.

He was excited to have you by his side now, he knew you two could take on anything. The thought of having someone just like him by his side put a warm feeling in his stomach, someone he could protect along with his brothers. Maybe the jealousy before was telling him something, maybe you both were destined to be together since you both could agree that you’ve never met anyone like the other. And he was glad to have someone to return to every time he came back from a mission, or having you on a mission with him in general. He already had hundreds of reasons why he fell in love with you, and if that’s just the beginning, he wondered what being with you forever would he like. Only time will tell

———

I hope you enjoyed, again! If you ever want to send it a request, I take it in DM’s for those who want to stay anonymous, but others can also go to my ask box. Either way is fine, I don’t mind!^^