#and all this time hes BEEN crazy too it was just beneath the surface <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer in love with an artist reader

・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

warning: mild swearing

You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 

You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 

Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 

If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 

Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.

“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 

Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.

Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 

You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.

Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.

Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 

What in the worl-

“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 

Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!

Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 

You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 

You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 

“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 

Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 

“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 

“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”

“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 

“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 

Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?

You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.

You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.

It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 

Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 

He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 

“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 

You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 

“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 

Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 

“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 

Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 

It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 

Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 

He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 

Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.

Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 

“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 

Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 

“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.

“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.

You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.

Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 

“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.

You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.

“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.

Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 

He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 

For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 

Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.

You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 

Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.

“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 

“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.

Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 

“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”

“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 

“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 

“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 

How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?

“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.

“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.

You shrugged, “I have no clue.”

“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”

You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 

“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.

You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.

“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 

Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 

“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.

“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.

Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”

“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”

Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 

“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.

Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 

It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 

Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 

“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 

“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 

Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 

He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.

Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 

Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 

“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.

“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”

“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 

“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 

“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 

Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 

There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 

Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.

“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.

Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  

“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 

He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 

Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 

“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 

Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 

As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 

Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.

“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 

Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 

With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 

Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.

He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 

“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 

Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 

“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 

Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 

Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.

“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 

Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 

Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 

“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 

“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 

Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 

“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.

“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”

A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 

You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.

“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”

Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.

“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 

That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.

“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”

“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 

“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.

“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.

“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”

You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.

“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.

“It sounds kind of gross.” 

“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 

“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.

Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 

“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.

Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.

“So, what did you need my help with?” 

“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 

You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”

Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 

Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 

Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 

Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 

“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 

Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.

Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 

Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 

Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.

In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 

You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  

Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 

You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.

“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 

“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”

“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand. 

“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 

“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 

Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 

There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 

Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.

“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 

Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 

Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.

You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.

“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 

“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.

“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 

Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.

“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.

Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.

“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.

“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.

Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.

“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.

“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 

The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 

He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.

He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 

“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.

“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 

Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.

It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.

“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 

Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 

When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 

“Now what is it?”

“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 

You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 

After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.

Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”

You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”

Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 

You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.

Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.

Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.

Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 

“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.

You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 

“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 

Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)

sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏

taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

➺ PAIRING | sanemi shinazugawa x reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | swearing, mention of a sad & heartbroken genya :((, angst but nothing too tragic (unless??), wc: 1,6k, barely proofread

➺ NOTE | the lovely @ponderingmoonlight inspired me to write for Sanemi <3 I'm not sure if I did him justice, I haven't exactly mastered his character yet so he miiight be a bit ooc.

Your blood is boiling. You're hardly holding back tears of frustration as you stomp toward the Wind Estate, the gravel crunching loudly beneath your feet.

You’re having a hard time controlling your anger, everything Shinobu taught you about emotional restraint fading into a blur the closer you get to your destination.

You never imagined Sanemi would ever go to such extreme with his brother. You've always stayed out of his family business, respecting his privacy and the complexities of his current relationship with Genya. You didn't live with either of them, after all, so there were likely things you didn't know, maybe even deeper reasons behind Sanemi’s behavior.

But this? You couldn't let it slide. No way.

There's no justification for almost blinding and constantly breaking your own brother's heart like he does.

"Sanemi!" you shout as you slide open the door to his room. The Wind hashira whirls around at your sudden arrival, his eyes wide with surprise before they harden into a defensive glare. The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know, and he's not in the mood for whatever bullshit you're about to spew at him.

"Not now. I’m not in the mood to—"

"Shut up! I'm the one who speaks.” you cut him off, stepping into the room and sliding the door shut with a sharp, forceful motion that would've made him flinch if he weren't so stubbornly set in his ways. If looks could kill, the Wind hashira would be six feet under by now. "I spoke with Genya.”

There it is.

“He told me everything.” your voice trembles with barely restrained fury as you speak, an accusatory finger pointed at him. “How could you?! Your own brother, Sanemi!”

Sanemi's jaw tightens and he stands up abruptly, pulling out his sword with a practiced motion. "Tsk, it's no big deal. He'll get over it," he says dismissively, brushing past you as if the conversation meant nothing.

You move to block his path in an instant, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Do you even hear yourself?!”

Sanemi finally meets your gaze. “I’m trying to keep the goddamn brat alive. I’m trying protect him, alright? He’s being reckless, and he’s fucking crazy if he thinks he’s fit to survive out there!”

“Wha– and you think this is the way to protect him? You think blinding him will keep him safe? What the hell is your problem?! You're not protecting him, Sanemi, you're driving him to desperation. That's what you're doing. You’re pushing him to do reckless things because he thinks he has to prove himself to you!”

The words flow out of your mouth so easily, like they've always been there, waiting to spill out. Your frustration and anger are bubbling to the surface, barely restrained at this point. You've never liked the way he treated Genya, and this incident had been the last straw. There was no way you could keep watching him destroy his relationship with his brother without saying anything.

The silence stretches uncomfortably as Sanemi's gaze bores into yours, the veins on his forehead and his neck bulging in anger. For a moment, you fear he'll lash out at you too, but instead, he pushes past you and storms out of the room, stepping heavily down the wooden stairs.

“Shinazugawa Sanemi!”

He pauses, his back rigid — but he doesn't turn around. His head turns just slightly to the side as he speaks.

"If he stays in the Corps, he’ll die.” he finally snaps. "He can't use breathing techniques. He’s weak. He’s not strong enough and he’ll never be. I'm doing him a favor by being hard on him."

"That's bullshit and you know it." you rush down after him, getting in his way to prevent him from leaving. It takes every fiber of willpower you have not to slap some sense into him. "Wake up already. We live in a world that's beyond cruel and unpredictable, Sanemi. We don't know what tomorrow will bring or if we'll even see it. Death is always in the corner, especially for people like us who are constantly risking our lives with every mission."

Sanemi's eyes widen slightly, the anger in them giving way to something more vulnerable. His heart sinks at the implication — but he wants to hear it from you, loud and clear.

"...What are you saying?"

“I'm saying that what you're doing, the way you're pushing him away and breaking his heart over and over again— it’s going to backfire on you one day.” you continue, a slight desperation in your tone. “You can say what you want, but Genya is a demon slayer. There's nothing you can do about it. And you know what that means, right?” You pause, scanning his reaction for any hint of realization or acceptance. "You said it yourself. It means you could lose him at any moment. Tonight, tomorrow, next week. Life is way too short for you to be acting like this. What if he dies thinking his own brother never loved him? How would you live with that?” You step closer, refusing to back down. “He’s desperate for your forgiveness, for your love. And instead of giving it to him, you do this.”

Sanemi clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white around the hilt of his sword. He hates that you’re right, that you’re seeing through his justifications. He knows he’s been hard on Genya, more than anyone should be to their own brother. He’s spent years pushing him away, trying to protect him from the harsh realities of their world. But in doing so, he’s only unintentionally pushed him into more danger.

"He needs you, Sanemi," you add calmly, stepping closer to him. "You're each other’s only family. Don't let your pride or your fears keep pushing him away. He’s just a child, for God’s sake.”

He wants to argue, to lash out and say that you don’t understand, that there’s no other way. But he can’t find the words to defend himself. He moves to sit on the stairs and takes a deep breath. He averts his gaze, his grip on his sword tightening in pent up anger and frustration.

He can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as he thinks of Genya’s tearstained face, the pain and disappointment in his eyes when those terrible words left his lips.

‘I don't have a little brother.’

It’s not the first time he’s caused him pain, but it doesn’t make it any easier to bear.

"I just... I want him to live a normal life, alright?” he grumbles. “He should be playing with kids his age, laughing and running around without a care in the world. He should be studying for his future, dreaming about what he wants to be when he grows up. He doesn't belong here." he finally mutters, his voice softer than before, yet still rough. You step up to him, sitting down beside him.

As he turns to look at you, Sanemi's expression is a mixture of frustration and helplessness. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, every worry and fear etched into his hardened features.

“Everything would be easier if he just hated me." Sanemi says, his voice trembling slightly as he struggles to maintain his composure. "He’d move on, leave the damn Corps, and find a life away from all this bloodshed. If he were to die at the hands of a demon, I—” He pauses, his jaw and fists clenching tightly. He runs a nervous hand across his face.

The words catch in his throat, but you can see the pain and fear in his eyes as he struggles to continue. "I can't lose anyone else. I can't lose him." he finally manages to say.

"Then love him while you still can, Sanemi," you say, your voice firm and steady. Tears start prickling at your eyes but you're quick to blink them away. "We've all lost someone here. Some of us have no one left at all. Some of us would give anything for just five more minutes with a loved one. You still have this time with Genya, so don't take it for granted."

Your words land like a punch in Sanemi’s gut, and he finds himself unable to argue. His shoulders sag, his defensive stance crumbling.

You let out a soft sigh and get back on your feet, one hand resting on the hilt of your sword under your butterfly haori.

“I can't tell you what to do, Sanemi. But I care for Genya as much as I know you do. However, I can't be a replacement for you. I’m not his family. Only you can give him the support and love that he needs.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. Your gaze then shifts to the falling cherry blossoms, a fleeting reminder of life's fragile beauty. “I’m leaving for a mission tomorrow— possibly against an Upper Moon.” you continue, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “While I’m gone, think about what I’ve said. Genya needs you now more than ever. Don’t let time slip away before you show him how much you care.” you turn to look at him. “You better have fixed this when I get back.”

With a final nod exchanged and a silent promise between you and Sanemi, you begin to walk away — clutching onto hope for a few more days of survival.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Jealousy | Jisung

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Warnings: Slight suggestion

just a short little drabble i wrote per request! hope you enjoy sunshine <3!!

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Jisung’s eyes burned with an unfamiliar fire as he watched you from across the room. The gathering at Chan’s apartment was supposed to be a casual hangout, but for Jisung, it had turned into a slow torture. Every time he looked your way, you were laughing with someone else, your attention pulled in every direction but his. And tonight, it was Hyunjin who seemed to be the focus of your smiles.

You were seated on the couch, too close to Hyunjin for Jisung’s liking, sharing some inside joke that made your eyes crinkle at the corners. The sight of you leaning into Hyunjin, your hand playfully resting on his arm, sent a sharp pang of jealousy through Jisung’s chest.

His grip tightened around the drink in his hand, the plastic cup crumpling slightly under the pressure. He knew he had no right to feel this way—you weren’t his. But that didn’t stop the jealousy from simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

When Hyunjin leaned in closer, whispering something in your ear that made you burst out laughing, Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. His emotions, raw and unchecked, surged forward, clouding his judgment. Without thinking, he downed the rest of his drink and stood up abruptly, storming out of the room.

You noticed his sudden departure and frowned, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you followed him down the hallway, where you found him leaning against the wall, breathing heavily.

“Jisung?” you called out softly, approaching him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. “Nothing’s wrong,” he muttered, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.

“Don’t lie to me,” you pressed, stepping closer. “You’ve been acting strange all night. Did I do something?”

Jisung let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Did you do something? You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He looked at you, his gaze intense, almost accusing. “The way you’re always around him. The way you laugh at his jokes, the way you touch his arm like it’s nothing. It drives me crazy.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. “Jisung… are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” he repeated, his voice rising. “Yeah, I’m jealous. I’ve been jealous for a long time, but you’re too busy with everyone else to even notice.”

You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his voice. “I didn’t realize…”

“Of course you didn’t,” he snapped, pushing off the wall and pacing the narrow hallway. “I’ve been trying to get your attention, but all you ever see is him—or anyone but me.”

“That’s not true,” you protested, but he cut you off.

“Then why do I feel like I’m invisible when you’re around?” he demanded sadly, his frustration spilling over. “Why do I feel like nothing I do matters to you?”

The intensity of his words left you speechless. You had no idea he felt this way, that his feelings ran so deep. All this time, you thought you were just friends, that his playful banter and teasing were nothing more than that. But now, seeing the pain in his eyes, you realized there was so much more beneath the surface.

“Jisung…” You reached out, your hand gently brushing against his arm, trying to calm him down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought you couldn't ever see me in that way.”

He looked at you, his expression softening slightly, but the hurt was still there. “It doesn’t matter now,” he muttered, turning away.

“No, it does,” you insisted, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “I love and care about you, Jisung. I just… I didn’t realize how much until recently. I haven't been knowing how to cope with that...”

His eyes met yours, searching for the truth in your words. “You care about me?”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “More than you realize. And… I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important to me. It's the complete opposite.”

For a moment, the tension between you hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Then, with a shaky breath, Jisung spoke. "Yeah right," He stated pushing past you, but you stopped him with as much force as you could, pushing at his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as he winced in pain.

"Ji- oh my gosh are you okay?" You fretted, as he reached for his shirt, pulling it away from himself slightly. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm just a bit sore, it's okay."

"Why?" You continued to fret. "Why are you sore? Did something happen?"

He shook his head and let out a quiet laugh. "I got a tattoo." He unbuttoned his shirt slightly, and you saw the fresh ink.

"What… what does it mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as you looked at the word staring back at you. You reached out.

Jisung shuddered at your touch, his eyes closing for a brief moment before he answered. “It’s a reminder. Of what matters to me, what's been given to me, what I want...but can't necessarily have.” His eyes opened to look at you.

Your heart ached at his words, understanding now that this tattoo wasn’t just a piece of art—it was a symbol of his unspoken feelings for you, of the pain he’d been carrying all this time. As you continued to trace the tattoo, your touch became more deliberate, more intimate.

“You can have it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “You can have me, Jisung.”

His eyes snapped back open, locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice raw, almost desperate.

“I’m sure,” you replied, your hand moving from his chest to cup his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I want you, Jisung. I’m not blind anymore.”

The vulnerability in your voice, the sincerity in your words—it was all Jisung needed to hear. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and tender. It was a release of all the pent-up emotions, the longing, the jealousy, the fear of losing you.

You kissed him back with just as much fervor, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands found your waist, gripping you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate, more intense, as the weight of everything unsaid finally fell away.

His hands trailed there way up to your face, as he pulled you closer than you thought humanly possible, as if he was trying to merge your physical beings, just as he was trying to merge your souls.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other’s. The hallway was quiet, the only sound was the rapid beating of your hearts and uneven breaths as your chests rose and fell in a recipricatory rhythm.

“Don’t ever doubt how much you mean to me,” you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the tattoo once more. He shuddered once more, and your mind wandered to the thought of what exactly you made him feel. What you could make him feel. “You’re everything to me.”

He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile that made your heart swell. He laughed as he attached his lips to yours once more in a messy fashion. “I better be jagi, 'cause I don't know if I can handle being jealous."

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @suvujagi

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @guiltyasdave <3

wip #1 • SINK IN MY WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!

there's something off with logan...

this is the feral!logan fic that won the last poll i posted. i'm almost done with it, literally all i need to do is finish up the smut but it's been kicking my ass every single time i try and sit down to actually finish it :))) which is so great and fun for me :)))

The energy in the room crackles like a storm about to break, and you feel it in your bones, in the way your skin prickles under his gaze. "I was only gone for an hour," you say, your voice measured, careful. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you."  You chance a glance over your shoulder, and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs. Logan hasn’t moved an inch from his perch on the edge of the bed, but the sheer force of his presence keeps you rooted in place, heart hammering in your chest. “Hmm, that’s real sweet, baby,” he drawls, sitting up straighter now, leaning forward. The motion makes him seem larger somehow, shoulders broad and imposing in the dim light. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, and the way his gaze rakes over you feels like a physical touch, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your fingers still in the drawer, fabric slipping from your grasp as your pulse pounds in your ears. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught in the snare of his sharp, predatory focus. You turn slowly, arms falling to hang limply at your sides. "I wasn't gone long." Logan tilts his head, a low, amused sound rumbling in his chest as he rises to his feet with a fluid, deliberate ease that makes your stomach flip. “Didn’t feel that way to me, darlin’.” His voice is a low, gravelly purr, sending a shiver down your spine. “Felt like forever.” His eyes never leave yours as he crosses the room, the green completely swallowed by the dark black of his pupils as they seep into the color like oil spilling out over the surface of a lake. You’ve never seen him like this before, so hungry. "Logan," you say slowly, back pressed tightly against your dresser. "You're really starting to freak me out."  Logan hums idly, head cocked to the side as he watches you. "I can hear your heartbeat."  His tone is calmer now, but there’s still a dangerous edge to it, like a knife pressed just lightly enough against the skin not to break it. Your pulse races, heat simmering in your stomach despite the slight edge of fear clawing its way through your chest. He stops in front of you, close enough that his scent invades your senses strong enough to make your knees feel like they’re about to buckle beneath you. “There’s nothin’ to be scared of baby,” he mutters quietly, thick arms coming up to cage you against the dresser. 

wip #2 • ALL THAT GLITTERS...

a billionaire walks into your job, and then into your apartment…

omg...a bruce wayne fic? yeah i don't know either...i just got way too into the dc universe by accident and had one (1) single idea that i thought fit his character too well to not write it. will i actually ever post this? i don't know. am i having fun with it anyway? yes, maybe a little too much fun. don't read into it i'm just throwing this at the wall because it's plagued my mind for days.

You snort, shaking your head as you walk down the hall, but you can't help the way your mind starts wandering. Maybe Rachel is right, was that your big moment? The story you'd pass down to your grandchildren once you got old enough that your filter had gone? "Yes, it's true, grandma had one crazy night with the Bruce Wayne." You shake your head, dispelling all thoughts of what might have happened had you not spent the whole lunch nervously poking at a way too overpriced plate of pasta and shoving your own foot in your mouth. Bruce—Mr. Wayne—clearly felt some kind of pity towards you that day. He was known for his charitableness, helping you score that holiday bonus and taking you out was just that—charity. You had to admit it was good press, a good headline to splash across the magazines he frequented. You could see it so clearly in your mind. BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY BRUCE WAYNE CHARMS BUMBLING SALES GIRL WITH LUXURY LUNCH! HEART OF GOLD, OR JUST ANOTHER PR STUNT? You sigh, the memory of his perfectly polite smile gnawing at you. He didn’t look uncomfortable, though. If anything, he seemed...amused. Not in the cruel, condescending way you feared, but in the same way someone might look at a puppy struggling to climb a too-tall staircase. Endearing, maybe, but ultimately a fleeting novelty. It wasn’t like the Bruce—Mr. Wayne—was secretly harboring some deep, hidden interest in you. He’d paid for lunch, helped you out with a well-placed favor, and probably forgot about you the moment he left the restaurant. A man like him doesn't chase after someone like you. He chases after pretty trust fund babies, A-list actresses, supermodels. Not women working commission at Harrow & Bloom that live in broken down apartment complexes where there's only one elevator that's been out of order since you moved in. And honestly? That was fine. Better, even. You didn't need that kind of stress in your life, the stress of being thrown off the deep end and into the public eye all because you were photographed on your solemn walk of shame out of Wayne Manor. You were over it. Completely over it. That's what you tell yourself as your wrench the door open with a little more force than necessary and— And Bruce Wayne is on the other side, standing in the hallway of your shitty apartment complex in a perfectly pressed suit looking extremely out of place. Bruce Wayne is on the other side of your door. The door that you slam right back shut directly in his face just as he opens his mouth to speak. What the fuck?

kisses!

i know it's not wednesday anymore...but i'll tag some beloved mutuals anyway! sorry if you've been tagged already <3

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @elflutter @eupheme @javier-pena @raeinyourdreams @moonlight-prose @silverskyeline @superhoeva

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Taste of Temptation {3} || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Summary: Pierre enjoys winding Danny up with rumours, and Danny enjoys his recompense with your body. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, age gap (13 years) reader is 20, smut, smut, alcohol, smut, ass play, dom!daniel, bond*ge, overstimulation WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You had been minding your own business, enjoying a cool glass of fruit juice to combat the rising temperature of the day. The Red Bull motorhome was unusually quiet as you sat down at an empty table, so much so that you didn’t even notice the hush that fell over the few members of staff that were around setting up for the week ahead.

Something hit your neck and a sudden roar almost deafened your ear as the shock turned to a flash of pain. You jolted out of your seat, tipping it over, and clutched the burning skin below your ear as you saw a dark blue shirt disappear out the door, the number 10 printed on his back.

“What the hell was that?” you asked as you used your phone as a mirror. “What the fuck! GASLYYY!!!!!”

A deep purple circle was growing on your skin where he had pressed the end of a hoover against it, the bright red vacuum now discarded on the floor in the culprits rush to get away. The powerful suction had instantly brought your blood to the surface and it looked like a huge hickey, and Daniel was just walking in.

You slapped your hand over the mark and saw the team members of his that were still around stifle their laughs.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a grin.

“Pierre just gave her a hickey,” Calum, a friendly technician, managed to admit as he pointed to your hand. “Then he boosted it out of here, never seen an Alpine go so fast.”

Daniel didn’t laugh along with the rest as his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled your hand away. His eyes narrowed at the offensive mark before darting to the vacuum still running on the floor behind your chair. The stupid smile and big, round eyes on the plastic shell only seemed to grow more mocking the longer he looked at it. 

“It was just a silly joke,” you said softly. 

“Very funny.” He forced a smile but his eyes kept flickering back to your neck and you shivered as he ran his tongue along his teeth and leaned closer so no one could overhear his promise. “But only I get to mark you, kitten.”

Daniel got his recompense when you returned to the hotel mid afternoon. There was a few hours of down time before there was a small get together planned, nothing too crazy since media day started in the morning and no one wanted to be hungover for that. 

“Shhh, kitten, the walls aren’t that thick.” 

With the curtains drawn it was impossible to tell how long had passed, how long it had been since Danny tied your wrists to your ankles and subjected you to such immense pleasure you couldn’t remember your name. 

His fingers were cool against your hot skin as he brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead before they softly tweaked your nipple piercing and another gasp slipped past the strap of leather you were biting. 

The rave music filling the room was set to overwhelm yet another of your senses but it couldn’t hide the sounds you were making and it was a wonder that all of the Netherlands didn’t know what he was doing to you. You didn’t even know what he was doing to you, there was only one orgasm rolling into the next as your tears wet the pillow beneath your head.

Toys littered the bed and Danny had taken his time to enjoy ruining you with them all. 

Your ass throbbed around the metal plug he had worked you up to taking, his words of courage helping you to push through the gasping breaths you filled your lungs with as he stretched you to the limit. The cry of relief that had erupted when the plug slid home, and the sight of your hole clenching around the narrow handle, had been enough for him to come again and the warm ropes of his release had splayed across your breasts.

If you could move you would have run your fingers through it, gathering the viscous mess so you could taste it on your tongue. That was where he had finished earlier and where he would possibly finish again, because before you knew it he was hard again.

“Please,” you whimpered as he pressed a bullet to your clit, the vibrations making more tears stream down your cheeks as intense tremors rocked your entire body and your ankles screamed for mercy. “I need to come.”

“Soon, kitten.” 

Daniel shifted to lay between your spread legs, his breath hot on your cunt as he tasted the essence dripping from your swollen lips. His fingers soon replaced his tongue and the lewd sounds of them pumping in and out of you only added to the overwhelming experience. 

Two fingers, then three. Each snap of his wrist buried them deeper and each time he brushed against the butt plug and pushed it further. Stars danced across your vision and you couldn’t hold back any longer as your pussy spasmed around his fingers before they were gone and his tongue lapped at his reward as it escaped your folds.

“I didn’t say you could-” 

Your body fell slack against the restraints as you lost all ability to think, see or hear and you floated away on the high.

When you came back to your senses you were tucked under the blankets with Daniel’s body curled behind you, his arm draped over your waist. His beard tickled your shoulder and he pressed a soft kiss upon it when he felt you wake. Every part of you ached in a way that could never actually hurt and you sighed with contentment as you rolled over to face your boyfriend. 

“How long was I out?”

“About half an hour,” he said with a proud little smile as he pulled your leg over his hip as you felt his hard length teasing along your entrance. “I think that’s a new record.” 

Your body felt empty without the toys and you looked around to see them neatly lined up on a towel drying. As messy as Daniel liked to get, he also liked to clean up after and you could feel your skin was no longer slick with sweat or sticky with his release that had painted your skin. He had taken care of it all after you had passed out.

“How bad is it?” you asked when you caught his fixated stare on your neck but he grabbed your hand when you reached up to touch the tender area.

“Don’t hide it, kitten. You can cover up Gasly’s but not mine.”

You rolled your hips and smirked when his lips parted with a deep breath as his sensitive head started to slip inside you, just an inch. “You are so petty.”

“You’re mine and I have to mark my territory,” he said before snapping his hips forward and stealing your breath as he bit your bottom lip. “It’s just biology, baby.” 

“Have you been watching the Discovery Channel again?” you teased as your eyes fluttered shut. 

Daniel laughed as rolled you to your back and tugged your other leg over his hip too before pinning your hands to the headboard. “There’s something satisfying about seeing a hunter subdue his prey.” His head dipped to yours and a shiver spread goosebumps across your skin when he grazed his teeth over your racing pulse. “Seeing how vulnerable she is up against such a beast.”

You arched your back and pushed your breasts up, silently begging him to trail his lips further down to them. He was gentle this time, swirling his tongue over the sensitive peaks knowing they would be tender. Everywhere was tender so he was taking his time with you, enjoying the long, slow strokes that made you feel every single inch of his cock as it filled you.

“She’s only vulnerable to him,” you moaned as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tugged the damp strands.

Daniel’s honey brown eyes said far more than his lips did as they curled up into a soft smile that made your stomach flip. “A lion and a kitten.”

He released your hands so he could run his own down your arm and over your collarbone to cup your cheek, the calluses on his palms tickling your skin along the way. His hand was so large it cradled your entire jaw and his thumb stroked your kiss-swollen lips before he took them for his own.

There was never a fight for dominance with him, your lips just parted as if he were the elixir of life and you were dying of thirst. He was intoxicating and addictive, unlike anyone you had been with before and he completely consumed your consciousness, filling every waking thought before infiltrating your dreams too.

You lost all sense of self with him, yet he had helped you explore your body and find so much more. And you also had lessons to teach him.

“Lions don’t actually hunt,” you murmured as you lay your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat thumping rhythmically in your ear. “It’s the females that do the hunting. The male is just there to fuck.”

Your muscled pillow bounced as he laughed, his fingers along your spine pausing their relaxing dance. “I like that even better. What can you tell me about the honey badger?”

You pushed up onto your elbow, resting your chin on your hand so he could see the amusement on your face. “The honey badger is a cheeky creature who is very territorial and gets quite jealous over little things.”

“Is that right?” he dared you to continue with the lifting of one eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.

“Mhmm, but don’t let the cuteness fool you, there’s a fighting spirit beneath all that fur,” you teased, running your fingers through the dark triangle of curls that grew over his sternum. “And six nipples. Oh, did you think I was talking about you?”

His smirk broke into a bright smile that reached his sparkling eyes as his laugh filled the room. “You never know, I might have six nipples and just be very good at hiding them.”

You snorted a laugh and buried your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing your arms around his waist. “No, you would happily parade them about if you had that many.”

Danny placed a soft kiss atop your head before resting his cheek upon it with a happy sigh. “You know me so well.”

“Hey Nips,” Pierre greeted with a grin as he bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently. “You haven’t blocked me on Insta have you?”

“I will if you keep calling me Nips,” you warned as you pulled your phone out of your clutch and checked the app you had muted the notifications for and groaned. “Seriously?”

The Frenchman's laugh was insufferable as you saw what he had uploaded while Daniel returned to your side after chatting with Valterri, never straying too far away from you. The video wasn’t great quality considering Pierre had been running full pelt through the paddock with a vacuum plugged into a massive extension lead but you could still make out the path to Red Bull’s hospitality.

You saw yourself sitting at a table sipping your juice in peace before he flicked the vacuum on and a look of shock fell over your face when it sucked your neck into the nozzle. Unable to resist now that he had more than made up for it, Daniel chuckled in your ear at the video and you jutted your elbow back to check him in the ribs.

The next picture he posted made you roll your eyes before you saw an opportunity and sent a reply before locking the phone and slipping it back into your clutch as Daniel’s laugh grew even louder. “There’s those claws, kitty.”

You regretted opening the app as you were still thinking about the other notifications you had seen and they left you distracted. It wasn’t anything new and they weren’t often malicious but the rumours were just irritating. Every single post you were tagged in by one of the drivers inevitably led to people thinking you were dating them.

It was only Pierre who did it on purpose for his own amusement, knowing how possessive Daniel was towards you. It was like he just wanted to push his buttons and see how long it took for him to snap and make the relationship public. There had been talks of it, after collapsing into bed, high off an orgasm, but then nothing happened.

The rumours were still playing on your mind when the group moved to the large round table and you saw the name on the seating chart next to yours. 

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Danny asked as he sat to your left, his hand disappearing under the table to slide up the slit of your dress to your thigh, his thumb drawing soothing circles over the bare skin.

“Nothing, I’m just a little tired.” You weren’t lying completely, you could have done with a lot more sleep after what he put you through.

“Have you been boring Nips, mate?” Pierre asked as he dropped into the chair beside you, likely having paid off a waitress to have his name card put on your table. A smarmy smile played at his lips and he trailed a finger around the rim of his glass, the crystal humming quietly, as his other arm draped over the back of your chair. “You weren’t bored in Paris with me, were you?”

Danny’s fingers tightened around your thigh and you fought back the gasp as his nails dug half-moons into your skin. “Do you want to tell him why you’re tired or should we let him use his imagination?”

You hid your laugh behind your hand and Pierre’s interest only grew as he leaned closer. “I don’t think he is creative enough to imagine everything we did. Maybe I’ll tell Kika and she can surprise him.”

A dopey smile crossed his face at the mention of his girlfriend before a camera flashed and he sat back in his seat with a huff of annoyance at the photographer. “I thought they weren’t allowed at these things.”

You shrugged and accepted the glass of wine Danny took from a passing waitress. “Netflix wants a taste of everything this year, all the behind the scenes shots. Just be grateful you don’t have to wear microphones.”

“I dunno, could be entertaining as hell,” Daniel chuckled as he teased his fingers along the edge of your panties. “But they would have to censor 99% of what happens outside of the paddock. For us at least.”

“We get it, you guys have sex,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes as he arrived late and dropped into the seat beside Daniel, Carlos on the other side of him. “Sup, what’d I miss?”

“Nothing much. Pierre got schooled on Insta, and we are going public,” Daniel casually stated, your head whipping around towards him as he shrugged with a smile. “What? It was bothering you and it’ll shut him up too.”

Instead of looking annoyed that his fun was coming to an end, Pierre laughed and let his arm slip off your chair. “About time. Pay up, Norris.”

Lando groaned and fished his wallet out his pocket, his fingers flicking through the cash before taking it all. “You couldn’t have waited one more week? I’m a bit light. Can I get you the rest tomorrow?”

You curled an eyebrow as the money exchanged hands in front of you and you reached out, taking one of the €100 notes from Pierre. “My cut for using my relationship for your gains.”

“Well, if I’m losing five grand on this I want to see the evidence,” Lando said as he started unfolding and refolding the swan-shaped napkin in front of him. “Or I’ll have it back, thanks, with interest.”

“You’re not getting this back,” you stated as you shoved the cash into your bra before fetching your phone from the table. “My employers are cheap bastards.”

Pierre laughed with a shake of his head, knowing you had one of Danny’s credit cards and that he would never let you spend a cent of your own money while you were with him. It was the same amongst all the drivers, they spoiled their partners and enjoyed providing everything one could want or need. They didn’t see it as being ‘used’.

“There,” you grinned as Daniel’s phone beeped with a notification you had posted on Instagram. “The not-so-secret secret is out.”

“Let the chaos begin.”

Daniel’s hand disappeared from your thigh and you instantly missed the warmth before he reached for your nape. His fingers tightened their grip as he drew you closer and your breath hitched as you saw the possessive glint in his eyes before he crushed his lips to yours. The room was forgotten as he took all your focus and your phone fell to your lap so you could grab the lapels of his collar and deepen the kiss. 

Ten seconds or ten minutes could have passed by the time you parted breathlessly and as your eyes fluttered open they were blinded by the flashed of the cameras aimed your way. Daniel smirked and pulled the finger at them, causing another bright burst of flashes. “Fuck ‘em all.”

“People will talk.”

Your tongue wet your lips before you dared him. “Let them.”

His eyes drifted down your body before he dragged them slowly back up. “They’ll say you’re too young.”

“Age is just a number.” You used his own words against him, the words that had lingered in your mind since he had said them to you the first day you met.

“They’ll say you only got your job because of me.”

A small giggle bubbled up as your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll show them my degree.”

“You have all the answers, don’t you, kitten?” he smirked.

“No, there’s still one I’m waiting on...”

The moment hung suspended in the air as his brown eyes searched your face for the answer and he swore under his breath. “Fuck ‘em all. You’re mine.”

Daniel’s teeth nipped at your earlobe and you inhaled sharply at the bolt of lightning that struck your core, tightening your stomach as it flipped in response. “You’re mine, kitten, all mine.”

You couldn’t even form a response as your back pressed against the wall and he pinned you there with his hips. The denim he wore did little to hide the hard length that he ground against your core and you trembled with anticipation.

“Please, Danny,” you begged unabashedly. You had fantasised over this moment since you had met him but nothing could prepare you for the reality. Your eyes screwed shut as his zip brushed over your clit and your lips parted at the sensitive touch, a keening whine slipping from them, “Pleeease.”

Your arms tightened around his neck as he stepped away from the wall and carried you to the bed, swiping the half empty wine bottle as he passed the coffee table. The mattress rushed up to meet you and he smirked down at you as he used his knee to spread your legs wider.

“This isn’t champagne but we’ll make it work.” His fingers curled around the bottleneck and his thumb covered the hole so he could control the flow as he started to pour it over you. You jolted at the difference in temperature and the red potation started to snake across your skin with each small movement you made.

“It’s going to stain the bedding,” you whispered as you tried to hold your breath so it didn’t displace even more.

“Wine will be the least of their worries,” he teased as he dipped his head down and lashed his tongue across your stomach, dipping it into your belly button where the wine had pooled until he had licked it clean. Your stomach clenched when he rolled his eyes up your body to look at you and you swore you almost came from that image alone.

You were heady as he made his way up your body, trailing a dribble of wine between the valley of your breasts before chasing it with his tongue. His thumb traced your lips, parting them as he tipped the bottle up to fill your mouth until it overflowed. The bottle was carelessly discarded and a large hand caught your chin, tipping it back before he sealed his mouth over yours and shared the flavour of the wine on your tongue.

You silenced your phone from the incessant notifications that hadn’t stopped all evening and tossed it onto the coffee table. Dropping onto the sofa in the quiet hotel, you swirled the topped up red wine around your glass mindlessly and wondered what you had gotten yourself into.

“It’ll die down, as soon as something new comes along.” Daniel fell into the space beside you and took the wine stem from your hands, sipping it before placing it on the table and pulling you onto his lap. His hair was still damp from the shower he had just had and every few seconds a droplet would break free from the strands and run down his neck. “You’re not regretting it, are you?”

There was a touch of vulnerability in his tone that he tried to hide with a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. You cupped his face and brushed your thumbs over the creases that were deeper when he truly smiled and shook your head. “A little apprehensive of what’s to come,” you admitted with a whisper. “But I’m proud to be yours, you make me happy.”

“That’s all that matters to me.” He guided your head to his shoulder and you relaxed as your body moulded to fit against him perfectly. This was your safe place and your soul recognised that as the late hour instantly caught up with you. A tired yawn clicked the joint of your jaw and your eyes grew heavy as you nuzzled your face closer to his neck. “And what do we say if someone has a problem?”

“Fuck them,” your murmured sleepily, making his shoulders bounce with a silent laugh.

“That’s right, kitten,” he whispered across your skin as his lips rested on your forehead. “Fuck ‘em all.”

Click here for part four.

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm

[donteattheappleshook]

Not Broken at All Chapter 18/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Oh hey! What's up everyone?

I know it's been a while (shocking) but it's Solstice today and the muse decided something needed to be posted for this fic in honour of the fairy orgies XD

This was written super fast and not really re-read because it's already 10pm so I'll probably edit it later but I'm giving it to you all now.

Happy Solstice and I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

********

Part 18

“Doesn’t look so bad,” Will shrugs when they stand outside the mouth of the cave the next morning. Emma and Wendy roll their eyes at the same time. It does look that bad. For a place called Echo Cave she’d had expected something bigger, something louder. But all she can see as they approach is a narrow tunnel in the rockface, no sound escaping from within. So she jumps when Tiger Lily’s voice suddenly comes from within. 

“You’re late.”

“Apologies,” Killian nods. “The forest has changed a fair bit since I last made the journey - it took us longer than anticipated to find the path.” 

“You have a habit of doing that,” Tiger Lily scoffs. “Misinterpreting time.” 

The reply is so quick, and Killian’s sigh so exhausted, that Emma has to hold back a snort of laughter.

“We came as fast as we could.”

“Come then, let’s not delay any further. The others have gathered.” 

“Who are the others?” Emma asks Hook quietly as they follow.

“The eldest of those who were here before Pan. They were barely more than children when it happened, but They have some memory of how things were.” 

“I thought you said they’d forgotten all their magic.” 

“We did not forget,” Tiger Lily snaps from the entrance. Emma watches as the faint, gold dusting of magic that covers their skin, the only light in the otherwise pitch black cave shimmers and slides over their arm, cascading like water down through their fingers  that they trail along the  rocky wall, leaving flecks of sparking, gold dust in their wake.  “It was taken from us. Through slaughter and cruelty. When the children who were left behind grew enough to become a threat to Pan, we were forced to lock away what little we remembered or meet the same fate.” 

Every time she thinks it can’t get worse, it does. The massacre of Tiger Lily’s people and the destruction of their history, the torture and killing of the Lorelei, the horror of the murder of those boys on the beach. There’s no end it seems to Pan’s cruelty, to his thirst for blood. 

Emma reaches for the shimmering of light that remains along the wall, glittering and moving with the flow of the rough surface. It glows brighter beneath her touch and something swells from deep within her, rushing to meet it, warm and electrifying, before she yanks her hand back and stumbles the rest of the way though. 

The walk is long, this cave buried deep in darkness and stardust. She’s not sure she even hears it at first, a small whisper of a voice from far away, the words too quiet to make out, but repeating. As they continue along and a dim light starts to appear in the distance, they grow louder. It’s a child’s voice, rolling against the walls of the cave - wish I’d never come here… just want to go home. Just want to go home. Just want to go home….

She feels Killian’s hand on the small of her back and realizes she’s stopped walking. “It’s alright, love. It’s just an echo. The last secret that was shared here.” She still hesitates, not wanting to get any closer to the haunting voice. “Whoever they were, they’re not here anymore.”

“His name was Ruffio,” Will says, nearly as quiet as the first echo. “He’s been gone a long time.” He only meets her eye for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing as though he hadn’t said anything. She can’t blame him. She knows by now that nobody in Neverland ever goes home. “Come on - we’ve got secrets to spill.” 

The light ahead grows until finally they emerge into a massive cavern. The stone that surrounds them black onyx - gleaming faintly against the dust that covers the ceiling like a galaxy above them. The space feels boundless, endless like the darkness could go on forever and she’s reminded of their flight here, of the endless sea of stars they’d sailed in on. 

There are four people standing in the center of the chamber on a platform of the same black onyx, all of them with the same sharp, androgynous features as Tiger Lily, all with the same loose-fitting clothes and cropped hair, and all with that same shimmer of living magic glowing faintly in the dark. Tink stands with them, waiting. None of them are any older in appearance than herself, but she knows better by now than to judge age or power by appearance on this island. 

The Constant. 

They follow the rest of the way to the narrow, stone bridge that connects the ledge to the platform on which the others stand. When Emma takes a step to follow Tiger Lily onto the bridge, Killian puts an arm out, halting her in her tracks. Emma watches, heart in her throat as the bridge crumbles after Tiger Lily, stone falling away behind every step until they reach the end and there’s no bridge at all. 

“The Constant keep no secrets,” Killian explains. “The cave can’t compel anything from them. We, on the other hand…” 

“Of course they don’t.” No wonder they wanted to use this place. Easy to make others share their deepest darkest secrets when you’ve got none of your own to divulge and nothing to risk. “What about Tink?” she asks, nodding at the fifth person standing with the Constant.

“The fey have wings.” 

Right. “So how does this work?” 

“From what I remember, you step out onto the edge and call out your secret. If it’s truly your darkest, the cave will echo it back to you.”

“And then we get across?” 

“Aye, easy as that,” Killian attempts a smile, but it comes out as a wince. “I’ll go,” he offers though he looks like he’s dreading this as much as she is. She’s just thankful she doesn’t have to start.  He lets out another sigh, bracing himself and then, “I kissed Emma.” 

Fuck. Her heart drops into her stomach. He’s been a pirate for two hundred years - How the hell can his darkest secret have anything to do with her?

Will smirks. “Kissed? Is that what they’re calling it these days? And I think you’re forgetting that we were all there when she jumped you at Solstice.” His smirk deepens. “And when Emma came back all wet.” If Emma could reach him she’d smack him. 

“I literally walked in on you,” Wendy deadpans.

“I’m not talking about Solstice,” he sighs, not rising to the bait. “It was…” She knows when it was. We’ll keep each other safe, they’d promised. She doesn’t need everyone else to know though. Not when she’s not even sure what any of it meant or what it means now. “It doesn’t matter,” Killian shakes his head. “It was what the kiss - what all of it - exposed.” Fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. “My secret is… I never believed that I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah.” He breathes her name like a prayer and a wound. “To believe that I could find someone else.” His eyes lift to hers and it’s only by sheer force of will that she’s able to stop herself from taking a step back, from running away from the way he’s looking at her. Because she needs to hear this. They all do. If she wants to get across this fucking bridge, if she wants to talk to the fucking Constant, if she wants to get her son back - she needs to hear this secret as much as he needs to tell it. “That is, until I met you.”

She doesn’t know what to say or if she’s supposed to say something, can’t bring herself to look at Wendy or Will or look away from his eyes still burning into hers. And then before she even can do anything, Killian’s voice echoes through the cave, ‘until I met you’ called back to them like a ghost. A rumble follows as a section of the fallen bridge rises back from the depths below them, rock by rock, rebuilding itself. 

Killian lets out a humourless laugh. “So, who’d like to go next?” 

“I will.” Wendy stands with her shoulders straight, like she’s ready for a fight rather than a confession. Emma gets a sinking feeling in her stomach from the way she’s making herself look at Killian, with shame and guilt. He doesn’t look surprised - he looks like he expected this to hurt. “Sometimes… Sometimes I wish you’d never found me. Sometimes I wish you had just kept on walking that day when Pan left me to die.” She winces. “I’ll always be grateful to you for saving my life, for taking me in but…” 

Killian nods when she hesitates, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “Go on, it’s alright.”  

“You trapped me here, Hook. You’re the reason I have to live in this neverending nightmare. Forever. You knew what that water would do to me and I know you couldn’t ask but… you didn’t give me a choice. And I think that if I had one now - if I could have had a say in the next hundred years of my life… I’d rather you’d just let me die because this -” she gestures at herself, at everything around them.  “It’s worse than death. And because of you I’ll never leave.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I can’t even die if I want to. Not unless Pan decides that’s what he wants. You forced this life on me, Killian, you cursed me to live because it made you feel better and I don’t… I’ll never forgive you for that.” 

Tears stain her cheeks now, jaw tight as she refuses to let any more follow and Emma can see the heartbreak on Killian’s face. “Wendy…” but she shakes her head and he stops the step he’d taken towards her. 

“I’m sorry,” she chokes and he shakes his head this time. Her secret echoes around them like a taunt this time - ‘never forgive you for that’ - and another piece of the bridge rebuilds itself. The silence hangs between them, louder than any echo, until Will steps up. 

“I suppose I should go next - while we’re on the topic of never being forgiven.” He takes his own steadying breath. “I’m dying.” 

Wendy’s face falls. “... what?” It comes out cracked and small and frightened. “What do you mean you’re dying?”

The look Will gives her - there’s so much guilt there, so much pain and self-loathing and love. Emma may not know much about it but she can recognize it now in his eyes, in the way he looks at Wendy. “I lied when I told you I didn’t know what Pan did to my heart. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“One hundred years…”

Will nods, a self-deprecating smile falling flat. “I really hoped that I could keep it from you for a little longer. Neverland will slow it down but… he squeezed a hundred years from my heart. I’ll start aging faster - a lot faster - and pretty soon…”

“How long?” He hesitates a beat longer than Emma can handle - and Wendy… gods, she can’t imagine. “How long?”

“I’ll be dead in a few months - three, maybe four depending on how long I would have lived if I’d aged like a normal person but - I’m so sorry, Wen. I didn’t want to tell you, I -”

Whatever he was going to say and whatever she might have answered  is stolen by the cave calling back to them in Will’s voice, ‘dead in a few months’. Nobody looks as the bridge puts itself back together, all of them too focused on the cruel revelation. He did it for her, Emma realises, for all of them but… he’s dying because of her. Wendy’s losing him because of her. Even Killian looks solemn at the news. 

“Your turn, Emma,” Will chokes out with the palest attempt at levity she’s seen him manage since she met him. “Wouldn’t want to be left out of all the fun, would you?”

She looks out towards the chasm between them and the Constant. She doesn’t even know what she expected to confess, or what she’d hear confessed by those with her, and now, with the truth of Will’s fate hanging in the air, nothing feels like it matters in the grand scheme of things. 

What even is her deepest secret? That she gave up Henry? That she had her heart broken by a selfish man who used her and then left her? That she spent a year of her life in jail? That she’s spent her whole life searching for the parents who left her behind? That between Neal and her parents she doesn’t think she could ever trust someone again - could ever let herself love someone again, or let them love her… That she might be anyway? None of it feels like enough; none of it even feels like a secret anymore, not since Henry found her and brought her to Storybrooke. 

And then, like bile and sick, she feels something being forced up from her throat, words clawing their way to the surface and past her lips of their own volition. She can’t stop them. She doesn’t even know what she’s going to say until they come spilling out. 

“I wish Henry had never come to find me. I wish he’d never brought me to Storybrooke.” The confession leaves her gasping, tears in her eyes as though she had been sick. She wants to be, hearing such a horrible truth being spoken out loud. Killian looks at her with sympathy, but she turns away from it. And once it’s started, she can’t stop it. “I never wanted to be a mother. I gave him away because I knew he’d be better off without me - but also because I knew I’d be better off without him. He’s a beautiful, amazing kid and I love him more than anything… but I never asked for this. Every day since he showed up at my door I’ve been terrified - every minute of every day. Those few minutes in the Fae forest when I couldn’t remember him were the most peaceful I’ve felt in months and when it all came flooding back it just reminded me of how much simpler my life was before I had to be anything to anyone. I don’t want to lose him. But I never wanted to find him either.” 

The bridge rebuilds itself, completing the path across as the worst thing she’s ever said, ‘never wanted to find him’,  is echoed back to her cruelly. She feels drained, numb, and she wonders if the others are feeling this horrible emptiness too. She looks out at where the Constant wait. If this is their idea of having them prove their allegiance, they better be ready to give theirs in return.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian tells her, leading her across the bridge. None of them say a word, Will and Killian both casting glances at Wendy who won’t look up from her feet, and the silence follows them the whole way across. 

“That sounded rough,” Tink comments when they reach the platform, the five Constant talking in harsh whispers in a language she doesn’t recognize. 

“How lucky of you to have missed it then,” Will snips. He must be feeling worse than Emma realized.

There’s an argument starting, still in that foreign language, but she can tell just the same. Every few words there’s a glimpse of something that feels familiar, a syllable from another language she’s heard, a word that could be French or Spanish, a glimpse of English, not one language but many - like every language spoken at once.

“This meeting has been a topic of some controversy,” Killian whispers. “But I think Tiger Lily might be on our side.” 

“You can understand them?” 

He shrugs. “One picks up a few things after two centuries.”

There’s a small scoff from Tink. “Yeah, all that pillow talk was really educational.”

Killian ignores the quip. “They’re the keepers of the last of the forgotten history of the old Neverland.” He nods at each as he names them. “That’s Philodendron, Halcyon, Alder, Jacaranda, and you know Tiger Lily.

“Tiger Lily is one of them?” 

“Tiger Lily was the oldest Constant to survive the massacre. They were just shy of a century when Pan took over.”

“A century?”

“The Constant are eternal, love. A century is nothing.” 

The Constant have gone silent, a tense, begrudging conclusion to their argument that Emma can feel even if she doesn’t know the words. 

Finally, Tiger Lily speaks. “Tinkerbell tells us you wish to unearth the secrets of the island - secrets that were buried to keep us safe.”

“Secrets that could return the island to the way it once was if you ally with us against Pan,” Killian counters. 

“If our knowledge could have defeated the boy,” Alder interjects, “we would have done so a millenia ago when he first laid waste to this island.” 

“Maybe your knowledge alone couldn’t defeat him, but we have the Lorelei on our side, and the fae,” Wendy adds, gesturing at Tink. 

Alder scoffs. “You have one fairy. One who’s been without magic for almost five hundred years, who’s magic was corrupted by the very demon you seek to destroy. Our magic was born from the innocence and dreams of children, the purest light magic there is, and even it was snuffed out by Pan’s darkness. What chance have you with a weakened fairy and the duplicitous sirens?” 

“We have more than that,” Tink interjects, bitterness and insult obvious in the bite of her words. “We have her.” It takes Emma a moment to realize that she’s the one being gestured at and now every set of eyes is on her. 

“Me?” 

“Her?” Wendy frowns. 

“You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t noticed. She practically reeks of magic. It’s spilling out of every pore. I clocked it as soon as she got here.” 

“I don’t have magic.” The Constant continue to stare, questioning, doubting. “I don’t. Don’t you think if I did I’d have used it by now to get Henry back?” 

“Not if you weren’t aware of it, love,” Killian offers gently.

“Okay but I’m not some fairytale character; I’m from Boston - the land without magic. I don’t have any power.” 

“Oh for…” Tink swears under her breath, crossing the room and grabbing Emma’s wrist. Faster than she can stop her, the fairy pulls a small blade from the complicated twist of pins and leather that keeps her mass of blonde hair piled on top of her head, ivory handle embellished with gold runes, and slashes it across Emma’s palm. 

“Ow! What the hell!” Emma shouts, yanking her hand away. That fucking hurt. Tinkerbelle doesn’t resist, the rest of their small crew moving to intervene, but all at once, they freeze. Emma follows their gazes to her hand, clutched tightly in a fist to her chest and her breath catches. There’s light seeping through the cracks in her fingers, golden and swirling like smoke, shimmering like the magic that flows over the Constant’s skin. 

Jacaranda reaches a hand out to her, palm upturned in a request and Emma looks to the others before carefully placing her hand in theirs. Carefully, the Constant unfurls her fingers, examining the light that shines from her wound with a careful touch. Their eyes go wide. “This is our magic,” they say, voice soft and tinged with awe. “Ours and… something else.” 

“May I?” Philodendron asks, extending their own hand. Emma nods, even as the urge to refuse shouts at her. You don’t have magic. You’re not magic. You’re a goddamn bail bonds person from Boston, not a fairytale character. Philodendron looks at her after taking a moment to examine the wound themselves. “This is light magic,” they confirm. “It’s raw and untapped but powerful, more powerful than anything I’ve seen since before Pan’s time.” They twist her hand a bit, trying to look closer, to read something in whatever they see that Emma can’t. “But this isn’t born of belief and dreams as ours is, it's the product of something else… of -”

“True love,” Emma breathes out, so low she doesn’t mean for anyone to hear it. Henry had said that hadn’t he? That she was supposed to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, that she was supposed to be the Saviour. 

“Yes, that’s it,” Philodendron nods slowly. “You were right, Tinkerbelle. This is more powerful magic than we anticipated.” 

“Can you use it?” Emma asks, still not believing it really, but if it means they’ll help her get her kid back, she doesn’t care what she has to do. 

“That depends,” Halcyon takes a step forward. “Can you wield it?” 

“No, I…” she doesn’t even know how this is possible. 

“I can.” They all turn to Tink, Emma cradling her hand to her chest once more. “If you tell me what we need to do, I can guide her. But you’ll have to let me.” The last bit is directed at her and she hesitates… Tink hasn’t exactly made a secret of the fact that she’s not a fan of hers, and she just slashed her damn hand open… Trust already isn’t her strong suit to begin with. “I’m not going to steal it,” Tink snaps and looks genuinely offended and Emma remembers that she knows what it is to have her power taken from her. 

“I know you won’t. I just… what if it doesn’t work?” How powerful could this magic be? She’s not anything special, she never has been. Why would this be any different? 

“Then I guess you don’t get your kid back.” 

“Tink,” Killian warns but Emma can’t help but appreciate the fairy’s bluntness. 

“What do we need to do?” 

“This cavern, ” TigerLily starts, taking a knee and placing a hand reverently on the stone, “used to be a sacred place. It held all of the secrets of Neverland, and the dreams of children who visited - the purest and most honest of truths of all - fueled the island as it did our magic. This was its source - the source of everything. 

“But then Pan tainted this cave with his twisted version of secrets as power, as something to be wielded, and forced us to sacrifice the last of the light magic that still breathed life into Neverland, the cavern shielded itself from his darkness. Now it echoes truths rather than accept ones taken maliciously. This place… has seen nothing but darkness for centuries. It has not been sleeping, but fighting, the last of the resistance against Pan right under his nose, keeping the darkness at bay and it has hardened. We need to remind it what the light looks like.” 

“It can have mine. Whatever this is. If it can help and if this place can defeat Pan it can have all of it.” 

Tiger Lily smiles kindly. “Not all of it. It would never snuff out your light. But even the slightest kindling can spark an inferno and with it you can breathe magic back into the island.” 

“How?” 

They nod to Tink who retrieves her knife again, slashing her own palm this time, the light that glows from her wound a shimmering green, and holds her hand out to Emma. Heat burns across her skin when she takes Tink’s offered hand, the light between them growing, shining and mixing. Tink places her other hand on Tiger Lily’s shoulder and the Constant flattens both their palms against the stone beneath them. After a moment, they look to Emma and she knows she’s doing it wrong. She’s not doing anything but she’s doing it wrong. 

“I’m sorry.”

Tiger Lily shakes their head, their smile not malicious, but understanding. 

“I have met so many lost boys and girls on this island. So many broken, hardened children lead here by fear and hurt and neglect, so afraid to trust, to love, to admit or even accept what they want, what they desire more than anything - what has been robbed of them. This place is born of dreams and truths and you, dear Swan, strong Swan, brave Swan… frightened Swan, have locked yourself away from both.” 

“But I already told this place my darkest secret.” But she doesn’t need Tiger Lily to tell her - this place echoes darkness, resists darkness. That secret was Pan’s magic - not Neverland’s. 

“What do you dream of, Emma? What truths do you keep from yourself?” Emma opens her mouth to speak but Tiger Lily holds up a hand. “Do not tell them to me. Tell them to the lost girl. Unburden her.” 

What does she dream of? Things she can’t have, things she’s never had, things that were taken away. She wants to find her parents, that’s no secret though, she’s always known that. She wants them to have never given her up in the first place. She wanted a family, the one she could have had with Henry and Neal if he hadn’t turned out to be the vile person he was, the life that she’d had just a glimpse of after one missed period, before everything went to shit. She doesn’t want that anymore. She hasn’t let herself want any of it since then, not love, not family, not hope… 

Her skin begins to warm, something flaring beneath the surface. Liar. She doesn’t know if it’s the cave or herself or her magic but it echoes through her like her secret against the walls. Tiger Lily accused her of locking herself away from her dreams, from her truths, but can they even still be truths if they’ve been silenced and stomped down for decades? 

She thinks of the lost girl she was, abandoned, a runaway on the street, burning the last of her childhood, of stupid fairytales and stories to keep warm in a world that was only ever cold. What had that girl wanted? Powerless, lost, alone. That girl who felt like nothing, who meant nothing to anyone, who had never mattered and never would, who had only herself to take care of her. She wanted to matter - to someone, to herself, she wanted people to matter to her, to be able to let them. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even as she pushed away every foster parent, every friend, every lover as she grew older, she didn’t want - she doesn’t want - to have to do it alone. 

That’s what she dreams of, what she refuses to admit that she dreams of. That for all of her rightly earned distrust of everyone, for all of her caution and her fear of abandonment, of love and hope, she wants to be able to let them in, let them matter. She wants to believe that she could have that happily ever after that she’s scorned all her life. 

Images flash in her mind as the heat builds, her body tingling, a faint glimmer of light shining against her shut eyelids. Henry smiling in her doorway in Boston, Mary Margaret offering her a home, Killian bringing her to Neverland, Wendy helping her hide from Pan, Will sacrificing himself for her, Killian nearly sacrificing Milah’s name - sacrificing his memories, all of them banding together to help her save her kid, even Tink now, helping her to wield magic she doesn’t understand. 

She’s not alone. She’s not in this alone. For the first time in her life she has people she can count on. People she can trust. She thinks of the smile Henry gave her when she let him know she wasn’t going to leave Storybrooke even though she could, of Mary Margaret’s pep talks, of shared hot chocolate and drinks and advice in their apartment, of Killian in that dank brig after one of the worst hours of her life - perhaps I would - of his words whispered in the quiet darkness of his cabin - I’m here. You don’t have to ask - of his confession echoing around them - until I met you. She does matter to people. She’s not nothing. She was never nothing. She matters and she has people who matter to her. 

Her whole body alights, the blood in her veins not blood anymore but something else, something powerful and she can feel it surging beneath her skin, pulled by a force as it rushes through her and towards that opening in her palm. The white of her light overtakes the green and Tink’s body jerks like the surge of magic is as jarring to her as it is for Emma. Tiger Lily gasps, the ground beneath them starting to glow, tendrils of golden light snaking towards them across the stone like rivulets. Their body starts to shimmer, the dusting of gold shining brighter until their skin is swallowed by it completely. 

Emma can feel sweat beading on her skin, the salt mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized she’d been crying. She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep this up, the power coursing through her overwhelming. Tink’s hand is shaking in hers, both their palms damp and slippery and white knuckled and she can’t imagine how much more effort the fairy is putting in as the one actually channeling all of this. 

“There’s so much,” Tiger Lily says in awe. “We’ve forgotten so much.” Their eyes are glowing with the same gold that covers their skin, their mouth pulling into a smile even as tears roll down their cheeks. 

“I can’t -” Tink starts, but doesn’t let Emma release her hand when she tries to stop.

There’s another moment, the light engulfing the Constant almost completely, so bright Emma has to look away, before finally, suddenly, it stops. The three of them slump against the ground with a gasp of exhaustion. Emma doesn’t even turn when she feels hands on her shoulders, helping her to sit up, she knows it’s him. Wendy is at Tink’s side helping to support her as well as the Constant circle around Tiger Lily, all of them holding one another in a moment that feels beautiful and private as joy and heartbreak play over their faces. 

“Can you. Stop him?” Tink pants out. 

“I… I think so. There’s just - there’s so much. I need time to sort through it all.” 

“We don’t. Have. Time.”

“All of the secrets of Neverland, millennia’s worth, have just been poured into my mind. It will take me more than a few minutes to understand it all and find what will help us.” 

“How much time?” Emma asks. Henry’s already been here too long - too long without knowing that she’s here, that she’s coming for him. 

“I don’t… give me a few nights at least. Come back in three days. That should give me time to make sense of what is needed at least.” Their eyes are far away, like they’re not seeing the cavern around them but something far bigger and far more extraordinary.  

Emma nods. “Three days?” 

“Three days. And then we’ll rid this island of its false king forever.”

***********

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[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv ]

happy january friends! :D

there have been a crazy number of wonderful fics that I have had time to catch up on this month, and I've saved a few for next month's rec as well!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

this turned out to be a bit of a long one! I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to the new year so far, and happy reading y'all! <3

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it's a kind of magic | Jaistiel | E | 82k

Henry, the man who had asked if Alex's magic hurt him before asking if he used it for evil things. Henry, the man who seemed terrified of his magic, but also held a level of awe and wonder about it. Henry, the man who was likely scared out of his mind to share a tent with someone capable of the things Alex could do, but was offering anyway. "Alex." He watched as Henry's eyes widened with shock, his jaw dropping open just enough for his full lips to form a small, perfect 'o' shape. "If you're asking me to share your tent and your blankets, I guess you should at least know my name."

+

you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

"Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here."

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Dream A Little Dream Of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

+

if I do not have (your) love, I am nothing | @read-and-write- | M | 9k

The church says that sin keeps you away from God. Your disobedience is to remain hidden and only admitted during confession. The greater the sin, the greater your penance should be, and God, as the loving God he is, will forgive you. Because God is love, and he’s the greatest expression of it. Love thy neighbor is the greatest mandate of all. Yet, when Alex loves, his love is seen as perverse, impure. The greatest sin he has committed was to fall in love with another man, who has lain by his side during countless nights. But when Alex looks at Henry, he finds nothing reprehensible, nothing unclean. Instead, he finds the truest form of worship held between his arms, trailing fingertips that climb up Henry’s spine as a litany of words spill out from his mouth. A room consecrated by each whisper of God’s name, said so reverently that no one would dare say they have taken His name in vain. [A character study of Alex, religion, divinity and love.]

+

sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 65k+

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

+

I wake up with your memory over me (and that's a real fucking legacy) | @coffeecatsme | E | 21k

The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis.  [Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.]

+

Praise and Supplication | @nocoastposts | E | 3k

Alex is always moving, always going, always seeking. He is defiance and brashness tinged with anxiety, but not in these moments. Henry pins him down with a gaze as heavy as his touch, and all of Alex’s motions cease. He is calm, he is obedient, he is pliable. He knows he’ll be broken apart piece by piece, sending waves of heat deep into his core. [When Alex gets stuck in his head, Henry helps him let go.]

+

Room for Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) | @everwitch-magiks | E | 19k

When Alex comes, he only knows two things: that he’s good, and that he’s Henry’s. And that’s all he needs to know. Alex’s housemate has a sex dungeon. It’s pretty much exactly what you’d expect; whips and bondage gear and a chair that looks like something a gynecologist would have use for. Alex, being the chill, sex-positive guy he is, is of course extremely cool with this. Totally normal about it. Enthusiastically supportive, even. But as Alex watches Henry invite a steady stream of men into his dungeon, he develops one tiny little issue with the arrangement: he desperately wants to take their place.

+

stolen glances with a string attached | @wordsofhoneydew | T+ | 6k

Henry’s eyes widen, his body tensing up in sheer humiliation. That’s when he sees a sly smirk make its way to the man’s lips, and it only makes the embarrassment course through his body more rapidly, feeling all the blood rush to his cheeks. The man then spins around in his office chair, reaching for what looks to be a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles on it for a swift moment before pressing the paper up against his office window. The paper reads, “TAKE A PIC,” written in sloppy, bubble-like handwriting just barely legible enough for Henry to read. The man grabs another paper and writes for a moment longer, this time reading, “JK” with a winky face. Henry cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, the embarrassment slowly morphing into curiosity as the man turns the paper over for Henry to read the other side. “ALEX.” [An AU in which two men fall in love through their office windows]

+

two is better than one | @bigassbowlingballhead | E | 8k

“You’ve thought about being with two of me, baby?” Alex teases, “Are you sure you can handle that?” he smirks. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” Henry says matter of factly. “Not that it’s even fathomable.” “What if it could be…”

+

love left a permanent mark | @hypnostheory | E | 10k

Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” [Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare.]

+

Grounded In Fact | @england-would-fall | E | 5k

When Georgetown grad student Henry's and Alex's flights home are cancelled for bad weather, they secure the last room at a nearby hotel. Henry Fox, facing the prospect of sharing a bed with his roommate/love of his life/friend he has never confessed his feelings to, enters into an epic state of Gay Panic (tm). Come on in and watch as Henry Who Is Experiencing The Greatest Tragedy Since The Burning Of Alexandria navigates this very real and not at all in-his-head crisis.

+

kitchen confidential | @dumbpeachjuice | T+ | 4k

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” [Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.]

+

Newton's Fourth Law | dilfpickles | E | 26k

In which Alex meets his new very attractive roommate through Reddit, downloads Grindr, and discovers some things about himself and his roommate in the process.

+

Knowing me, knowing you | phlebotinxm | E | 8k

It wasn’t like the thought crept up on him by surprise. It had come in waves, like white salty water spread upon the shore and leaving little bits of foam and dust for people to see, like an idea Henry couldn’t quite shake that seemed to bleed into every era of their lives. It stayed at the back of his mind as he got up in the morning, and pulsed against his temple when he fell asleep. [In which, upon discovering something he’d never imagined about his father, Henry realizes that he is ready to take the next big step in his and Alex’s relationship.]

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All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers | @kiwiana-writes | E | 5k

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. [Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.]

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The Consequences (Of Our Actions) series | @anchoredarchangel | E | 78k+

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." [Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.]

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Burnt Offering | justice fortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

He just needs to get through washing his hair. Simple. Except washing his hair has never been simple. It’s the polar opposite, actually. The more he thinks about the task set out in front of him, the more daunting and impossible it feels. His limbs feel like lead and the weight of the hot water pouring over him makes his head buzz. But Alex can do this. He’s done it before. A shower after a long lacrosse game or that one time he had the flu and had to stop three times to sit under the water and collect himself. He can handle a little finals week exhaustion. He has to. [Or, Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service.]

+

Ho for the Holidays | @whimsymanaged | E | 6k

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” [Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.]

--

see you all soon! :D

sarah / anincompletelist xx

[biscuitblinkeu]

Oddly Entranced [3]

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2352

ToSumUp: The king begins to put his plan in action. You take Rosie shopping.

A/N: I’m pretty excited to write the next chapter. Meant to post this yesterday. Was gonna write more to ACTUALLY end the chapter but I’ll save it for next ig

“…The surface. A place called New York.” 

“The human word,” he stated, face settling into a mask of indifference, anger simmering beneath the surface. There was a low growl in his tone as he spoke, “She’s well aware the human world is forbidden— everyone knows that! I set specific rules and expect them to be followed.” 

“Yes, humans are trouble. I’ve tried to tell that girl…” 

There’s a silence, pain crossing the king's face for a moment. He’s realized no amount of threatening will stop that curiosity brewing in Rosé’s mind. No matter how many times he destroys her human-made trinkets or forbids her to observe the humans, she would not listen. She was too much like her mother. He wouldn’t allow it. He would just have to lock her up— no, he’d destroy her faith in humans. Trust could easily be broken, and he would get through to her one way or another. 

The King settled back down on his throne, shoulders sagged, fingers rubbing his temples. “Bring me my daughters— all three of them. Rosé must be brought home at once.”

“Yes, sir.” The crab made a move to go. 

“Wait,” he commanded, making the crab face him again. “Find out where she is and what she’s doing in this…New York. Contact the Shak’s sea magicians if you must, we need Rosé on surveillance.”

“Right away, my king.” Sebastian side-stepped his way out of the sea cave to do as he’s told. He had a bad feeling about this, but he only wished Rosé the best— he wanted her to be safe. He was loyal to Rosé, having been her attendant since childhood, however, if the king commands him he will do as he’s told…

Jennie, temporarily residing in the Atlantic Ocean, was the easiest to find for Sebastian. She was humming a tune as the maid behind her held up a pearl necklace, the mirror allowing her to see. She nodded in approval.

Sebastian stopped at the doorway to her quarters. “Jennie, the king requests your attendance.”

Surprised, a smile appears on her face. “Sebastian!” She swims to him, maroon-colored tail flicking powerfully. “Father wants to see me?” The feline-featured woman repeated. “Very well. But…” She picks the blue crab by a claw, holding him in front of her face. “Is your shell changing color? I remember it being brighter; are you perhaps stressed, Bastian?”

Sebastian gasps, and Jennie lets him sink to the sea floor. “My shell? What about my shell, now? Oh! It’s really changed color; I’ve got to be stressed.”

The princess frowned. “You poor thing, what’s going on?”

“You know your sister’s been running circles around me— that crazy girl. I’m getting too old for this. She’s why the king needs to speak w’you and your sisters.”

Even though he didn’t say which sister, recognition crossed Jennie’s face, and her smile faded slightly as worry flooded her mind; she knew her sister was a bit eccentric, fascinated with humans. She knew her father and Rosé didn’t get along because of it.  “Rosé? What has she done now?”  

Nothing bad, she hoped. 

“Well,” the blue crab hesitated. Sebastian looked at the maids, who were trying awfully hard to not eavesdrop, then at Jennie again. “I…I’ll let the king tell you, it’s not my place to speak.”

“I see,” Jennie nodded. She turned around, expression apologetic. “Thank you, ladies. You’re dismissed.”

The maids left with slight dips of their head, then the two left to see the king. 

.

“Did you ever find out where she lives?” Isa asked, leaning over your cubicle wall, her lanyard dangling over the side. The two of you had convinced your manager to put your workspaces next to each other, claiming you worked harder when you were in close proximity. 

You stopped typing and pushed away from the desk, cracking your knuckles. Isa watched you stretch patiently.

You shook your head at her. “I…I still don’t know. She always has this look in her eyes, as though the world and everything in it is so beautiful and new— like she’s seeing all of it for the first time. It just doesn’t make sense,” you murmured. “And when I ask I can’t get any answers because she doesn’t speak— or write.”

Isa sighed. “Maybe something happened to her? Like, I don’t know… memory loss? Trauma? Abuse? She seems like a sweet person.”

You frowned at the thought, thinking about where you first met her. “Yeah, maybe. I hope not, though.”

“So, you’re okay with being at work and leaving her alone at your apartment?” 

You thought about it. Are you okay with it? Somewhat. You worried she’ll get into things even though you tried to baby-proof your apartment. You hoped she was able to find the breakfast you made her and the snacks you left out. You wouldn't be so worried if you had just woken her up before you left early in the morning, but thought better of it since she stayed up late watching Netflix. You made sure to explain that for a period of the day she would be left alone— to which she blinked and nodded at, so you assumed she understood— and that you would come back. 

You shrugged. “She’ll be okay.”

Hopefully.

.

You entered your apartment and locked the door behind you, bending over to take off your shoes. Surprisingly, you didn’t hear the television playing, nor anything else for that matter. You wondered if Rosie was sleeping in the guest room, or perhaps left. 

A moment later you heard the quick padding of feet against the floorboards, then a flash of blonde hair entered your vision before you were being pressed into something soft and warm. “Wha…?” You felt heat creep up your neck as arms wrapped around you. 

(You didn’t understand why your hair and body products smelled so much better on her). “Uhm, Rosie?” You tried to pull back, away from the intoxicating smell of vanilla, but she held you tighter, burying her face in your neck. Her grip was tight, almost as though she were afraid you would slip away from her. 

Oh.

A feeling of regret prickled your heart, and instantly, you knew you should’ve been clearer on when you were going to come home. There was a chance she was distracted when you told her, or that she genuinely didn’t know what and where your work was, and it made her think you left and were never going to come back. The latter doesn’t seem so far-fetched, considering that awed look she has in her eyes most of the time. 

Hesitantly, your hand came up to her hair, petting it. Her grip tightened on your coat, and she finally looked up. Your hand paused when you noticed there were tears in her eyes, a subtle frown playing on her lips. 

She panicked when she woke up and realized you weren’t home, chest constricting at the thought she’d be all alone in this world again. She tugged on your shirt, her eyes conveying questions. Where were you? Where did you go? Why did you leave? 

Oh, God. You felt even worse. 

“I’m so sorry I took so long to come back, the roads were bad and— well, you were probably waiting awhile, weren’t you? You don’t have to cry, I’ll always come back.” You said, then wondered if it was something you could keep true. Nonetheless, you didn’t take it back.

Rosie blinked at you, her lips settling in a thin line. Her hands flexed on your shirt, and she raised a brow, non-verbally asking “promise?”.

You smiled. “I promise, and, if for any reason I have to leave longer, I’ll tell you beforehand— and sometimes you can come with me, okay?”

Rosie nodded slowly, releasing her grip on you. She waited till you took your coat off and followed you into the living room, seemingly wanting to be in your presence.

You were relieved to see the omelet you made her was eaten— the snacks weren’t touched however. You put the plate in the sink, stealing a quick glance at Rosie. She was hugging the couch pillow, looking at you.

“Hey, want to go out? I know it’s usually the time you take a nap, so if you don’t want to, that's fine. I just thought you might want to get out of the apartment for a little,” you rambled.

Rosie perked up, lips tugging up into a small smile as she nodded. It would be nice to see more of this world. 

That was all you needed to confirm her agreement. “All right, we’ll go.” She scrambled down from her spot on the couch, already heading to the door.

You eyed her legs, then shook your head with an amused laugh. “If you want to go you’ll have to wear pants, I don’t want you getting sick.”

She froze, already halfway across the room. Slowly, her gaze shifted towards yours, to her legs, and then her lips parted. Her mouth opened and closed - like she was forming words, yet couldn’t get the sound out, before she nodded dejectedly. Okay…

You stepped towards her, putting your hands on her shoulders to steer her to your bedroom. “It’s only for a few hours. Once we finish our activities, we can come back and you can take them off, all right?”

She huffed, and you took it as a yes. She sat on your bed as you dug through your drawers, pulling out a gray sweatshirt with matching sweatpants, and socks with avocados on them. 

When you held them up, her nose wrinkled, so with a laugh you turned around with socks with a few cats on them. She had no negative reaction so you left it.

“Here, you can wear these. It’s still cold out because it keeps raining, so these will keep you warm.” You laid them on the bed next to her.  “Oh! I have hair ties, just if you wanna put your hair up…” you rummaged through your dresser for them. You turned around with a white scrunchy and a regular, black hair tie as options, only to go still in surprise.

She already started to pull her shirt off above her head and you held your hands up, frantically telling her to stop. “It’s not good for you to change in front of me— even though you may be comfortable with it— we don’t really know each other well, and it’s a little embarrassing. You’re…” Oh, she’s beautiful. But you wouldn’t say it to her face and make things weird. That glimpse of her toned stomach caught your attention, and you bit your lip nervously as a warmth crept up onto your cheeks. God, you really are hopeless, aren’t you? (Pretty people are your weakness) Stop staring already. 

“Look, I’ll be out in the living room, just come out when you’re done, kay?” After a singular nod from her, you closed the door behind you and left her to get dressed.

Rosie stared at the door for a few more moments after you left, a blush appearing on her own cheeks. She made you flustered just then, didn’t she? A grin pulled at her lips. She didn’t know humans were so expressive. 

About 10 minutes later she entered the living room. You looked up from your phone, smiling softly at her. Although she looked adorable in your clothes, it was clear you needed to get her some of her own. She had a taller figure than you and though the sweatpants looked baggy on you, they were fitted for her. 

She held the scrunchie and a brush up to you, looking at you expectingly. You laughed lightly, nodding at her, and brushed her hair into a neat ponytail. Then, clad in puffer coats, you left your apartment.

.

The streets, wet and filled with noise, were something you were used to. Rosie, however, would flinch every once in a while because of a car honk or yell from a bypasser. She stayed almost pressed against your side, wide, curious eyes taking in the scene before her. 

You let out a puff of air, breath turning into fog, as you contemplated on where to go shopping. New York had no shortage of places to eat or shop, it was just hard to choose which. 

You spotted a clothing store and headed there. 

“You can pick out anything you like,” you told her. It’s a bold statement, things were getting expensive— but you prepared for this. It’s not the first time. “I’d like you to have some shirts, shorts, and underwear.”

The first time you went broke after taking a homeless mom and her child out shopping, you cried. (They were happy— broke people— tears, of course). Since then, you’ve had a card specifically reserved for your “adoptions,” Issa calls it. She thinks you're crazy because you have a card you voluntarily put money on for other people. 

So if Rosie wanted to buy a third of the store…you would potentially have enough. 

She blinked at you. Anything?

The first piece of clothing she picked up was a navy blue shirt, cropped. Then, a few hoodies with designs on them, and three pairs of shorts. Some baggy jeans, tops, a pair of shoes, etc. 

You couldn’t help but notice that after each item she picked up, she would glance at you. You wondered what she was thinking. 

“Is this all you want?” You asked. The total amount of items was way less than what you expected. 

She nodded, looking bashful. It’s more than enough. Thank you.

“Okay, then.” You headed to the register, putting her stuff on the counter for the two workers to scan. 

“Will this be all?”

“Yes,” you answered, pulling your card out.

“Do you have a rewards card with…” He trailed off, looking at Rosie. “Us?” You saw his face turn red and he kept stealing glances at her as he scanned. The girl next to him was staring too. 

You shook your head, you might’ve stared like that too if you had met under different circumstances.

Would you like to continue?

[silkclan-gossip]

SilkClan Halfyear Recap

By Snakespeckle 🐾

Six moons. A lot can happen in that time—alliances form, hearts break, and enemies rise. I’ve been watching closely, and believe me, SilkClan has had no shortage of action. If you missed anything, don’t worry. Let me take you through the most memorable moments of our halfyear, including a few stories I can’t wait to see unfold.

Moon 1: The Seeds of Trouble

The beginning of this tale starts with a strange sight—me, Snakepaw, spotting a Twoleg playing with a kittypet near our borders. Odd, right? And things only got stranger from there. Duskkit, young and restless, was sick of Minkpelt’s strictness, and tensions simmered between our leader Basilstar and Larkweb. To no one’s surprise, Wisteriaspeckle brought back a whole chicken from the Twolegplace—always the bold one.

But beneath the surface, relationships were beginning to shift. Minkpelt had eyes for Pondquill—and while that hasn’t gone anywhere yet, I’m keeping watch. In the meantime, Burrowfleck reflected on a dream from StarClan, and I got some much-needed advice from Posyclaw about my feelings of failure.

Moon 2: New Bonds, Old Scars

Here’s where things start to get really interesting. Duskpaw—now deciding to embrace being nonbinary—confided in Basilstar about strange dreams, while Larkweb had a nasty encounter with a badger that left him scarred. Call me superstitious, but maybe that was StarClan’s way of warning him. I’m not shedding any tears.

On the softer side, Minkpelt convinced a loner family—Clear, Parsleykit, and Robinkit—to join the clan. Even though Clear met a loner named Nightcat and fell in love, tragedy struck when Nightcat died. Clear’s been struggling to move on, but I think they’ll find their way. And don’t think I missed Burrowfleck playing pranks on Posyclaw. I’ve been keeping an eye on those two, hoping it turns into something more.

Moon 3: Secrets and Regrets

This moon was full of whispers. Larkweb—ugh—spread a hurtful rumor that I couldn’t ignore, and that only fueled my desire to see him get what’s coming. He can try to be better all he wants after his badger scar incident, but I’ll be watching.

Meanwhile, relationships grew tighter, and cracks started to show. Burrowfleck considered taking on an apprentice, while Wisteriaspeckle dismissed some suspicious pawprints near the border. And I overheard Posyclaw sharing prey with Burrowfleck—those two, I swear, there’s something brewing there. Maybe Burrowfleck just needs a push.

But it wasn’t all tension—Larkweb and I played a few pranks, lightening the mood before Leafbare truly set in. Of course, it didn’t make me like him any more than before.

Moon 4: Love, Loss, and Secrets

The biggest twist this moon? Minkpelt’s secret lover, Streakminnow, joining the clan, and with her came Cliffscar, an injured she-cat she saved from the Thunderpath. While they’re both fitting in, things have been quieter between Minkpelt and Pondquill. Could that spark still be there? Time will tell.

But not all stories have happy endings. Clear heard the heartbreaking news of Nightcat’s death and has been trying to pick up the pieces ever since. On the leadership front, Basilstar had one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. I can’t say I blame her—Pondquill’s been acting weird too, mumbling something about going crazy. I’ll keep my distance.

Larkweb continues to eavesdrop and play games, but I’m waiting for the moment his secrets catch up with him.

Moon 5: Fractures Deepen, Friendships Bloom

Basilstar spent this moon quietly checking on the kits in the nursery while Pondquill slipped into a gloomier mood. But I’ve got my eye on Wisteriaspeckle—he’s been pulling pranks on Basilstar, but I can see the way he and Pondquill gravitate toward each other. Don’t think I haven’t noticed! I’m rooting for those two to make it happen.

I’ve also been paying attention to Burrowfleck and Posyclaw. They’ve been growing closer, and honestly, they’re one prank away from becoming something more. I’ve seen how Posyclaw looks at him, and Burrowfleck seems to be warming up. This could be the start of something special.

But not all stories are hopeful—Larkweb revealed his secret relationship with a MumbleClan cat. Forbidden love? More like foolishness. I’m just waiting for this to blow up in his face.

Moon 6: A Warrior’s Tale

And now, here we are—Basilstar named me, Snakespeckle, a warrior. Fearlessness got me here, and it’ll carry me forward. I couldn’t have done it without the clan, and let me tell you, it feels good to leave the apprentice days behind.

But while I’ve been celebrating, Robinpaw and Parsleypaw have started their training under Larkweb and Posyclaw. Robinpaw—that brave little tom—tossed a snake out of camp before it could cause any harm. He’ll make a fine warrior someday.

Love and tension continue to grow. Streakminnow and Duskpaw have started to understand each other better, while Minkpelt rethinks how he feels about Robinpaw, giving the young tom another chance. But here’s the kicker: Cliffscar overheard Basilstar bad-mouthing her, and that’s bound to cause trouble.

So much is happening beneath the surface. Wisteriaspeckle and Pondquill still haven’t made a move, but I’m hopeful. And let’s not forget Burrowfleck and Posyclaw. I’m crossing my paws for those two as well.

That’s the story so far, SilkClan. Friendships, love, and rivalries are brewing, and it’s only a matter of time before things really explode. You can bet I’ll be there, keeping an eye on everything. Till next moon, stay sharp and keep your secrets close—because I’m watching.

Snakespeckle 🐾

[majorbaby]

ok forgive me for asking so many lol: day 4 - stuck in a wall, hawkeye gangbang wip, hawkeye oral fixation fic, day 8 - sex pollen, hawkeye and margaret commiserate over lost loves, a six day age, commitment to the bit to lovers, The one where Trapper/BJ crack. feel free to pick and choose from these but fair warning i may be back with even more later.

no, thank you!! i appreciate your enthusiasm for my WIPs always <3

stuck in a wall - does what it says on the tin! i love repurposing mainstream porn nonsense for niche porn nonsense. set during The Trial of Henry Blake because they're already naked (Mclean, explain), Hawkeye tries to escape through a hole between "two beams in the tent" and Trapper can't resist fucking him in the ass when he gets stuck. i am far too proud of this dumb idea. excerpt beneath cut.

hawkeye gangbang wip - has taken over my whole brain while i'm meant to be editing chapter 2 hawk/trap/marg. oh well. excerpt beneath cut.

hawkeye oral fixation fic, excerpt here

day 8 sex pollen (**CW dubcon**), excerpt here

hawkeye and margaret commiserate over lost loves - i think you sent this one in last time, i'm going to see if I can include a different excerpt below - it remains abandoned because my reads on everyone have changed drastically since i first started writing it.

a six day age, excerpt here

commitment to the bit to lovers - this is such a golden concept for traphawk - fake dating as part of a larger game of chicken with margaret. i'm 13 pages deep and i want to finish it but writing comedy is so hard :( excerpt beneath cut

the one where Trapper/BJ crack - hasn't progressed since last time someone asked about it, excerpt here

stuck in a wall

“Wait,” said Hawkeye. Trapper stilled. Though his dick throbbed with want and he felt half crazy with the desire to rail Hawkeye there in the dirt, it was still ultimately Hawkeye’s call. “Use a thumb,” Hawkeye instructed. “‘S’easier to pull me open.”

God, thought Trapper as he did what he was told. He’d never met anyone who liked it up the ass the way Hawkeye did, who craved it, even now when he’d already come and the chances were slim he could get it up again in the limited amount of time they had to spare. 

With his thumb, Trapper stretched Hawkeye’s hole, swirling Hawkeye’s own cum inside of him, and around the rim while Hawkeye twitched and whimpered at the sensation. 

“Shut up,” Trapper growled, and he dug the nails of his other hand into one of Hawkeye’s cheeks. He thrust his thumb all the way inside of Hawkeye and wiggled it none-too-gently. Hawkeye bucked against him, still wanting more. 

A weak, needy final instruction came from the other side of the canvas. “Do it. Please.”

On another day, Trapper might’ve asked for more reassurance. But there was no time, and though they hadn’t discussed it perfectly, Trapper had known from the first time Hawkeye had eyed Trapper’s cock while salivating, that the potential for pain was as enticing to him as the potential for pleasure. 

He ripped his thumb from Hawkeye’s ass, enjoying another bar of whimpers as he pulled his underwear down just far enough to free his cock. There was some precum around the tip, so he grasped himself and rubbed it inside Hawkeye’s now expanded hole, just by the surface of him. Hawkeye gave the cutest of bucks, beckoning Trapper deeper. With his other hand, he gripped Hawkeye at the waist and pushed all the way in. 

He could tell from the sound Hawkeye made that he had his own fist or arm in his mouth, silencing himself. 

“Y’feel good Hawk. Tight.” Trapper moaned to himself, unsure if Hawkeye could even hear him at that volume. He wasted no time, thrusting into Hawkeye, who he imagined could’ve been anyone. At the moment there was no face and no identifying features to anyone who didn’t know Hawkeye’s body as well as Trapper did. No mop of black hair, no face making lewd or wanton expressions, and on top of that he was muting himself so as to not cause a scene. 

But on the other side of the tent wall, Hawkeye’s face was exposed, whatever face he was making as Trapper fucked him. And maybe his body was being jostled in a tell-tale manner, especially at the speed with which Trapper was ramming his cock inside. If someone walked by, they might know he was being fucked. They’d played at that before, Trapper whispering indecent suggestions into Hawkeye’s ear as he bent him over or backwards or whatever which way they were in the mood for. Look at you… in front of all these people? Don’t you have any shame? You don’t gotta be so loud, baby, everyone can see you, they know you’re enjoying it.

--------

hawkeye gangbang wip

It started just as Hawkeye was innocently brushing his teeth. Trapper had snuck up behind him, ground his morning wood into Hawkeye’s ass and swiftly brushed off the suggestion that they go back to bed.

“Can’t I have you right here?” Trapper had asked, and Hawkeye, as per usual, had been powerless to refuse him.

Why have we never thought to do it in front of the mirror before? was Hawkeye’s last coherent thought before Trapper had, with minimal warning, gone from thrusting at a languid pace to pounding his ass at full speed.

“You look so good like this, honey,” Trapper murmured into Hawkeye’s neck. He had an arm wrapped around Hawkeye’s middle so that he could keep his hips from knocking into the countertop as he thrust into him from behind. They caught each others gaze in the mirror, Hawkeye unbearably turned on by how it felt to be watched by Trapper, who now had his other hand wrapped around Hawkeye’s cock and was stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“You like this? Like being watched?” Trapper grinned against his ear as Hawkeye nodded, whimpering. “Yeah, you love being the center of attention. You’d love for a room full of guys to see you just like this, wouldn’t ya?”

“Trap, Trap, I’m–”

“Go on, lemme see you come for me,” Trapper whispered in his ear, and Hawkeye cried out as he spattered the countertop. Trapper followed soonafter, biting into Hawkeye’s neck as he filled him.

They did eventually make it back to bed, after Trapper had poured his limp and sated boyfriend into the shower for a quick rinse.

“You said that to me once before,” said Hawkeye, clean, dry and lying in Trapper’s arms.

“What?” Trapper asked as he stroked Hawkeye’s shoulder lazily.

“You said you wouldn’t mind watching me uh, service, a man I mean. One that wasn’t you. More than one even.” Trapper had been half-ways asleep but he sensed a certain note of interest in Hawkeye’s voice. That note had been the beginning of the end for many a regular army man who’d gone up against Hawkeye’s razor-sharp wit and motor-driven brain. It had been what had carried Trapper through the war, and what had carried Hawkeye the rest of the way once Trapper had gone.

“How many guys we talking about?” Trapper asked, sluggish mind only clear because Hawkeye had just drained his balls a half hour ago.

Hawkeye twisted around. He rested his chin on Trapper’s sternum and looked up at him. “Two wouldn’t be that much different from the time you and me and Ollie… you remember?”

“As if I could forget,” Trapper sighed happily. “We should call him.”

“I don’t know that he’d go for this.”

“What’s this then?”

"You. Me. Others. Work with me here, Trap."

Trapper thought for a long moment. “Three guys, me included,” he said finally, holding up three fingers. “Then I could watch you get it in both holes.”

“Wait, you’re not one of the two?”

“I come from a big family, Hawk. I know how to share.”

-------- hawkeye and margaret commiserate over lost loves

She waited for him to swallow a bite of his sandwich before saying to him, “It’s different than how it was with Trapper, isn’t it?”

Good thing she’d waited, because he looked like he would’ve choked otherwise. 

He stared at her and wondered how much she knew. 

The laughter, the longing, the stolen glances (Hawkeye’s), the slips of the tongue (Trap’s) - did Margaret know about that? 

Did she know about the sloppy, drunk kiss that had only happened the one time, how he swore it was just the one time? She didn’t. Couldn’t have. 

She couldn’t have known about the way Hawkeye had cried until he was empty three days after Henry’s plane had crashed, when the dam had broken and all of Hawkeye’s pieces had come rushing out. She couldn’t know how it was only Trapper who’d kept him anchored to the shore - Trapper’s arms wrapped tight around him while he sobbed, lest he drifted out into some dark ocean, like Henry… 

No, Margaret couldn’t have known all that. But she definitely knew something and, Hawkeye thought, it would be nice to finally confirm what had existed between himself and Trapper. Maybe it would feel less like a faraway dream if he did. 

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I did,” Margaret’s voice dropped low and bitter and it switched off the reel of memories of Trapper crackling through his mind, “I knew about everything.”

Hawkeye seemed to get a little smaller at that. His shoulders drooped further than she thought was possible - it seemed he did have some shame after all. 

“You don’t think I would do anything about it do you?” 

“Margaret, Major Margaret. You’re so orderly. It’s not the kind of thing that you-”

“You can’t just say ‘Major Margaret’, it’s Major Margaret Houlihan, or Major Houlihan. Or Major.”

“Thanks for proving my point. You’re a stickler for army rules, and in the army it’s more acceptable to kill your fellow man than to… ” love your fellow man, he trailed off and sunk further. Any lower and he would be resting his upper half on the table, she thought. 

---------

commitment to the bit to lovers

When Trapper is gently shaken awake, it’s still dark outside, and Trapper’s looking at Hawkeye’s front rather than his back – up close and a little too personal. Trapper would’ve never known that Hawkeye’d been upset at all the night before, what the big, goofy grin on his face. And he’s so close that Trap can count the teeth in his grin. 

“I know I’ve been gone a long time Louise but you know… you’ve changed,” he remarks.  

“I knew you’d understand.” Hawkeye’s grin grows larger and that much more maniacal. “You get me.”

“Not sure I do, Hawk.”

“I could be your second-wife.”

“One’s more than enough, thanks.” Trapper grunts as he sits up, and he sees that Hawkeye has moved their nightstand out of the way and pushed their cots side-by-side. Trapper glances nervously at Frank, but he seems to be sleeping soundly, so Trapper says in a loud whisper: “Start from the beginning.”

“They think I’m a military man do they–”

“They do not. I’m surprised you keep walking right in their trap, what with how hard they’re pulling your leg.”

“They wouldn’t let up. Not for an hour in the mess tent.”

“They would if you’d stop being so obvious ‘bout it botherin’ you.”

“That’s not enough, Trap.”

Trapper looks unconvinced.

“When has that ever been enough?” Hawkeye smirks. “We need to bother them right back.”

“We.” Trapper rolls his eyes, even though by default he’s always on board with whatever loony idea Hawkeye’s come up with. Riling up the Majors was as good a morale boost as anything else, and Hawkeye’s delighted grin is a nice bonus. “What did ya have in mind?” 

“They’re not gonna let this up until we force them to. Hot Lips has got it in her head that she can get under my skin like this.”

“And she’d be right about that.” Trapper nods. “How do we force them?”

“By performing an act of such degeneracy, in their eyes, that they’re forced to give up any and all facade of–”

“Respect for you.”

“Exactly!”

“That’s not gonna be easy. You’ve strolled through the mess tent naked. You climbed up the pole holding up said mess tent screeching like a baboon. You’ve cozied up so close to Frank... Frank! Even my eyebrows were raised–”

“Oh Trap. You’re so close.”

“Close to what? What new heights of degeneracy haven’t you achieved?”

“We. We haven’t achieved.”

“I’m not walking naked through the mess tent until I get my orders.”

“Save the best for last.” Hawkeye winks, momentarily distracted. 

“You understand.” 

“You haven’t asked why I’m in your cot yet.”

“I assume it has something to do with your plan.”

“It does.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

Hawkeye looks down, at what, Trapper isn’t sure, but he sees Hawkeye’s eyelashes twitch against his lower lashline. “What if we…”

“Hawk, it’s 3 in the morning, out with it or you’re sleeping on the couch.”

Something about the way that comment rolls so easily off Trapper’s tongue puts Hawkeye back on track again. “You’re the best friend I've got over here. We do everything together, right?”

“Sure.”

“Well, what if we did everything together?” Trapper’s about to ask him what he means by that, but Hawkeye’s arm comes up loosely around him then. He rests the bend in his arm over Trapper’s elbow. 

Trapper scoffs and jerks his body so that Hawkeye’s arm is shaken off. “You can’t be serious.”

[thevibraniumveterans]

《The Mandalorian》『SEASON 3 : Episode 8 - Chapter 24』-「THE RETURN」

SPOILERS!

Thoughts on rewatch……

This episode picks up where last episode leaves off. Did not expect the jetpack to last that long for Axe; given that the fleet was just outside atmosphere.

Bo Katan has a plan. Normally, her plans (just like anyone else’s plans) don’t quite go as intended. But she’s confident, and sends Axe up to the ship.

Ever the leader, she charges in but brings up the rear, setting a detonator charge to buy her some time.

Din is bound between two troopers, and we get a first-person POV from inside his helmet. I’d assumed one’s line of sight from inside the helmet wasn’t much, but I’m wrong.

Din asks Grogu, “You with me?” The music soars from the drums (important later), straight into the theme music.

Din contacts Bo-Katan and lets her know he and Grogu are okay for the time being, and tells her what he’s doing. She updates him on her plan, and tells him to “stay safe”. No surprise, the camera immediately cuts to the Captain, and the crew leaves their current predicament.

Next scene is the TIE/IN Interceptors. They hang upside down like bats, and they drop and take off like them too. It ups the scary factor, as they can launch with little notice. We also see bombers screaming skyward to the flagship. The shot of numerous TIE fighters shooting out of a hole in Mandalore’s surface is just… something else to see.

Gideon puts on his helmet, and when he says “I’ll take care of them myself”, he sounds a lot like Darth Vader.

The shots of R5, Din, and Grogu sneaking around the base feels A LOT like the sequence in A New Hope where R2D2, Kenobi, Han, Luke, and Chewbacca are sneaking around the Death Star. It’s also interesting how Din speaking to Grogu is sort of a meta-narration, so we learn the details the same time Grogu is hearing it.

Axe notifies command, and sends all his troops down to the planet. He orders them to leave the capital ship. At this point I’m thinking, “Axe is crazy! That’s incredibly self-sacrificing!” But then I remember loyalty is one of the best traits any Mandalorian has, so it’s no surprise he’s willing to do what it takes to help defeat Gideon and his army. Axe’s troops head down to the waiting Gauntlets, and they dive toward the surface. The Gauntlets are accompanied by several smaller fighter ships. I really love the shot where the Gauntlets descend to the planet, the camera lingers above the clouds, and not a few seconds later, the TIE Interceptors shoot out from beneath the clouds and up to the capital ship. The Mandos going down, and the Imperials going up, it is a foreshadow for a later scene, but I’ll explain that later. How ships of both parties never hit each other is beyond me, but smart of the Mandos to use the cloud as cover.

Axe trying his damndest to stay put in the pilot’s seat is a feat in and of itself. He’s fighting the fight/flight instinct. I’ve never seen anything like it.

The scene where Din instructs R5 to keep opening the laser shield doors one at a time is pretty intense, it’s like each door he passes, the level of difficulty goes up. The first pair of guards Din fights, he grabs a knife and fights with it momentarily and throws it at one guard, and he tries to get it back, and he fails. He doesn’t let that stop him. He gets another knife from the first downed guard and tells R5 to open shield #2. The weapons get bigger, and the guards get tougher. He fights messy, but acquires an electro-staff and an actual shield. He instructs R5 to open shield #3. He loses the knife, acquires a blaster. R5 gets intercepted, but does not back down, and opens shield #4. Din loses a shield, but retains the blaster; he shoots the last few guards a few times for good measure. Din now has two blasters. He went from being weaponless to being fully-armed. After all, weapons are part of his religion.

Din and Grogu pass clones of Gideon. This might be a bit of a canonical throwback, but the fact that Gideon has been able to clone himself kind of points to why the Empire, years ago, was looking for Omega from the Bad Batch. She was one of the special ones. Even so, last episode, Gideon says that cloning was not his obsession; clearly that was a lie, but also a misdirect, since he did say about his beskar armor, “the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it.” That, was not a lie. It was a foreshadow. Din shuts down the tanks, which explode, and he and Grogu leave.

Even though Bo and her troops arrive at their very temporary shelter (as they leave literally right after this), it’s not simply just worldbuilding. The Captain explains that though he and his crew have had to cultivate the plants, it was a giant metaphor for just how stubborn Mandalore and its people are. The Empire bombed the planet until it looked like there was nothing left, and yet, and YET people, plants, and animals clung to life. Life on Mandalore does NOT quit. The Captain says, “Life persists.” Bo admits, “I’ve only ever seen gardens in the domed cities.” To which the captain replies, “All they need is room to grow.” Fitting metaphor for the Mandalorians themselves.

Bo’s troops go up, Axe’s troops go down, and they reunite as a single deadly fighting force. Bo takes out the Darksaber - as she believed that it is only with the blade she can reunite her people. This is not really true, and I’ll explain why later. The Mandalorian troops head back down into the planet, and are met with ascending Imperials. Remember the foreshadow earlier when the Gauntlets went down then the TIEs went up? That was a foreshadow for this scene! And what an aerial battle it is. I have never in my life watched a jetpack battle between people in Mandalorian armor. It’s a really awesome scene. The reason why Bo can actually wield the Darksaber is because her goals and feelings regarding her people and her planet are very, very clear - she may not want to rule Mandalore, but she sure as hell wants her home planet and her people back. We hear the frantic but controlled alto instruments, but also the bass line of the Mandalorian theme song playing as the clash begins.

Gideon thought he could “[isolate] the potential to wield the Force” (that’s what he wanted from Grogu a season or two back), but the Force is not something you “get”, it’s something you have. You either have it or you don’t. If you don’t have it you can’t wield it. Gideon’s movements are calculated, controlled rage. His movements sound like there is a robot behind the suit rather than a human, making him seem more menacing. He lets Din face the Praetorians alone. Much like their real world counterparts, Praetorians are elite guards. When Grogu becomes a target, the Guards rush after him. Din tries to run after Grogu, but gets repeatedly downed by Gideon. We see an unnamed Mandolorian warrior make use of her knee blasters. The battle rages on three fronts: The Praetorians are attacking Grogu, Gideon fights Din, and the Mandalorians exchange blaster fire with the Imperials. Bo Katan spears one through the midsection with the Darksaber - brutal, but necessary. She comes in with a flying kick, aided by her jetpack, and downs Gideon. She tells Din to get Grogu. Bo fighting with a saber is definitely NOT the first time we see a non-Force sensitive person wield a saber (see: Han in ESB (briefly), and Sabine Wren in Rebels). Also love how Grogu is just casually using the Force to aid Din, and Din doesn’t even know it (maybe he does).

Meanwhile, the capitol ship is on a downward trajectory that cannot be corrected: this is intentional; Axe meant for this to happen. He will crash the ship into the base, the only way to hurt Gideon where it matters most. Gideon knocks her down, but Bo is furious, gets back up, and lunges. Gideon destroys the Darksaber, removing the one thing Bo thought she could use to reunite her people. Suddenly, she is alone again; in the sense that she theoretically loses authority. Gideon states, “You’ve lost everything.” For context, Obi-Wan had told Anakin in AOTC that a saber is a very precious possession, and extremely meaningful to one’s life. To lose it is tantamount to losing one’s life and meaning. So, to Bo, it’s like she lost everything, all over again. Gideon taunts her, saying “Mandalorians are weak once they lose their trinkets.” This is not true. Last episode, Din told her he’s not loyal to some weapon. The Darksaber means NOTHING to him, and now Bo realizes this. She’s had enough of the power grabs and divisions that the Darksaber has caused between Mandalorians, and she fires back: “Mandalorians are stronger together.” Which is her journey so far. She realizes this only now because if not for what had happened to her, she would not have known this otherwise. The Darksaber is but a mythical weapon, ultimately meaning nothing. Bo has stated last episode, “Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat. It is always our own division that destroys us.” Meaning, the Darksaber is nothing but a curse; without it, the Mandalorians come together NOT BECAUSE OF A BLADE, but to retake their damn homeworld once and for all. Bo did not have to worry about some blade. To nobody’s surprise, the moment she utters this, Din comes marching in with Grogu, blasters firing.

The ship is still going down; at this point I’m thinking, “Axe is on a suicide mission!” But then, right after I finish the thought, he shoots out a window and escapes, free to fight another day. His and Bo’s troops evacuate the base. The ship crashes into the base; Din, Gideon, and Bo face off. Din gets hit on the wrist, and Bo comes to his rescue, shielding him. The place explodes around them, Grogu uses the Force to disadvantage Gideon; Din rushes to protect Grogu, and Bo rushes to protect them both. The flames engulf everyone. It looks like they might not survive this, BUT BUT BUT! Grogu saves the day! He is using the Force to create a bubble to shield Din and Bo. This scene feels so familiar because it feels like a heroic inversion of that one scene in S4E8 of Rebels, “Jedi Night”, where Kanan uses the Force to hold back an explosion to save the Ghost crew but sacrifice himself; here Grogu saves both Bo AND Din from the flames. Bo is astonished; she looks from around her, to Din, and finally down at Grogu, like she can’t believe she’s alive. The flames around them dissipate, and both Mandalorians stand up, and we cut to black. It’s not over.

Remember the drums I mentioned earlier? The Mandos are at the Mines of Mandalore, where Ragnar finally gets to be properly baptized, as his last attempt didn’t go so well. Din practically adopts Grogu right there and then, and the Armorer approves. Someone mentioned once that it took so long for Din to call Grogu his son, because he started off a mission but now Din has grown close enough to basically be a dad. It was about time that happened.

So the thing with names- “Din Grogu”, right? I’m thinking, what if, if “Grogu” is a first name, and “Din” is something like a last name, only put before his first name “Djarin”? Therefore “Din Grogu” would make sense on a lastname-firstname basis. It’s not the same with Bo-Katan, or Axe Woves, or even Sabine Wren, for that matter. If Din and Grogu are a Clan of Two, then clearly it should be called Clan Din. It only makes sense that way, that in Clan Din there is Djarin and Grogu. This is the way names work, I think?

The Armorer states, “You must leave Mandalore and take your apprentice on his journeys, just as your teacher did for you.” And why, you might ask? This is the fulfillment of the Hero’s Journey: the Hero returns to whence he came, after a call to adventure, where he meets supernatural aid and comes across guardians, mentors, and friends; he reaches a revelation, a rebirth, after which he transforms, atones, with the gift of the “Goddess”, and returns. Din had started his journey on the call to adventure, and meets Grogu, his supernatural aid. Greef Karga is his mentor and friend. Bo is also his friend and ally. Din’s revelation is sort of him removing his helmet; his transformation, he changes because of how he feels toward Grogu. However, he must atone for that, so he requests that Bo guide him to the Mines so he can baptize himself in the Living Waters to atone. Then he returns to Mandalore to help fight Gideon, and subsequently also returns to his starting point, as a gunman and bounty hunter for hire.

Bo, the Armorer, and the rest of the Mandalorians meet at the Great Forge, finally able to reclaim Mandalore after so many years. The Armorer hands Bo-Katan Kryze a torch, and she lights the Forge. It roars to life, symbolic of the Mandalorians being one once more. The Mandalorians have finally come home, UNITED, and it wasn’t even a blade that reunited them.

Din returns to the rebel base. Some time passes, and he returns to Nevarro. Greef Karga gifts him a home for between assignments, and Din gifts Karga his IG-11 droid back, but improved. For what is perhaps one of the few moments in his life, Din has peace. He sits outside his new home, his N1 parked just outside, and watches Grogu practice his abilities.

===

FINISHING THOUGHTS:

1. I loved this episode, largely in part due to the aerial fights and carefully planned shots. The characters I theorized last week could show up, didn’t, and that’s okay. They didn’t, because they didn’t need to.

2. I also loved the foreshadowing, the visual references, the metaphors. I also loved how the Darksaber is no more. Don’t get me wrong, it is an AWESOME weapon, but it has plagued the Mandalorians for far too long, and has been one of the things that divided them. Struggles for power and all that, all for a blade. It took ages of infighting, division, it took Din telling Bo that the blade didn’t matter to him; it took Gideon finally destroying the very thing that divided the people of Mandalore, for Bo-Katan Kryze to finally, FINALLY, realize that Mandalorians are stronger together. It’s not that she didn’t know, it was that she chased after the blade like her people before her did; now that she doesn’t even have it, she doesn’t even need it! And she is still able to unite her people! WITHOUT THE BLADE!

3. Something about the Great Forge being “the heart of our civilization” (per Axe, last episode), and the Mandalorian creed vows about the words being forged into their hearts, I’m not quite sure how to put into words this association but there’s certainly something there.

4. More thoughts on the Hero’s Journey and episode titles of The Mandalorian:

- S1E3Ch3 : The Sin (“Temptation”/“Threshold”)

- S1E7Ch7 : The Reckoning

- S1E8Ch8 : Redemption

- S2E3Ch11 : The Heiress (“Goddess”)

- S2E6Ch14 : The Tragedy

- S2E8Ch16 : The Rescue

- S3E1Ch17 : The Apostate (“Transformation”)

- S3E3Ch19 : The Convert (“Atonement”)

- S3E8Ch24 : The Return

5. Overall, excellent episode, very much looking forward to Season 4. Which might take place either concurrently to, or after the events of, the Ahsoka series. I guess we’ll find out eventually.

[muslim-flint]

its so funny how i knew virtually nothing about christian slater when i started watching the show except from the vague fact that he was in heathers so i started digging a little watching and reading recent itws and stuff and i was like oh hes a nerd white dad gushing abt star trek on national tv and making silly little jokes hes cute :) AND THEN A RANDOM ARTICLE POPPED OUT. to inform me that he used to be insane sjfjdjjs mans got arrested in the 90s for trying to hop on a plane with a GUN. A FIREARM. did all kinds of hard drugs and was a literal alcoholic AND a slut who got arrested mutliple times djfjdj that shits his PUBLIC past . and now u watch him and hes a shy-ish dad giggling on random talk shows abt the life-size stormtrooper he has in his home its so fucking funny

[elysianslove]

congrats on 5k omg !! this event is so cute <3

but yah, can i have 3:45am with issei + car seggs

please & thank you!

i hope i did this right :p

i missed his birthday yesterday, but this one’s still for you issei :( also thank you so much, and thank you for requesting!! <3

5k Followers Event! — matsukawa issei and car sex

[3:45 am]  

it’s cramped, so fucking cramped and tight and suffocating in this car, but it doesn’t really matter, and you can say with full honesty that you’ve thought of that fact only once in total since issei had dragged you out of iwaizumi’s home and drove off into an empty parking lot.

there hadn’t been anything specific to tick him off, nothing that really explains why he’d grabbed your wrist in such a hurry and rushed to ravish you as soon as he could, like you’d disappear by the time you would’ve arrived home. but really, there doesn’t need to be an explanation. sometimes, issei’s just so fucking horny for no reason, and you genuinely can’t say much for yourself, because being with someone like him has your sex drive impossibly high. being with someone that’s so effortlessly attractive, that a small smile and the cock of his head has your thighs rubbing together, and an innocent stretch of his arms upwards, revealing a tiny portion of his stomach, the dark trail of hair that leads downwards has your lungs collapsing in on themselves. 

so, in order to remain honest with yourself, you can’t simply blame him, and him only. 

your lips are slightly numb as issei harshly kisses you, mouth pressing down so hard it barely even feels like a kiss. but you welcome him anyways; your hands snake their way around his neck and your fingers reach for his hair as you scratch and pull, while he hovers above you, hands wandering freely along your body, touching and kneading and grasping tightly. it can’t be comfortable, the position he’s in. issei’s not only tall, but he’s big too, in every aspect. but with the lack of complaints coming from him and the deep, throaty groans that leave you trembling beneath him stop you from saying anything.

when his hands lower to exactly where you need them to be, you’re suddenly impossibly grateful you wore a skirt.

“’sei, ‘sei,” you chant, as his lips fall from yours to kiss at your neck instead, his fingers rubbing at your clothed clit, your underwear drenched through embarrassingly. he places an open mouthed kiss at your neck, sucking and licking lightly at your skin. “issei, fuck me, please, please.”

the words he says next seem almost painful for him to admit. “baby i can’t just— i’ll hurt you.”

you whine desperately, pleadingly, hips rolling up, brushing against his bulge. “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care— want it to hurt.”

maybe you’re the unreasonably horny one.

it’s a blur of shit you can’t jus’ say things like that and fine, i’ll fuck you real good, before he pushes your underwear aside, stretching them so much that you hear a snap and a crack at the pull, and then he’s sinking into you, ever so slowly because he physically can’t move any faster. you’re so tight around him, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice, walls spasming around his thick length as you take more and more of him. you’re a trembling mess beneath him, chest heaving, mouth messily swollen and wet as your tongue lolls out dumbly. 

god, the things he does to you. 

“relax for me baby,” he urges, a palm pressed to your lower stomach. it makes you squirm underneath his touch, but all that does is shift his half sheathed cock within you, making you whine and clench down even tighter around him. he hisses, groans, palm pressing harder down on you in warning. “relax.” 

you choke out a moan, gasping out fervently as he begins to move again, pushing more of him inside of you. “god, fuck, there’s more?”

at this, issei laughs, but it’s strained. “you can take it, can’t you?” he wonders, and although he tries to make it sound like genuine worry for you, all he manages to tone it as is mockery. it’s just a rhetorical question, aimed at making you even more obedient for him. and you listen, of course you do. you sigh and nod and shift your head sideways, shutting your eyes tightly as he finally bottoms out. “m’gonna fuck you now.” 

it’s the only warning you receive before he pulls out, and fucks back into you deeply with one single, harsh thrust. it makes you scream, your back arching up in reflex. he pulls out again quickly, thrusting back in, creating a rhythm. he’s fucking you faster than he ever has before, one hand remaining on your lower stomach, maintaining the dizzying pressure, while the other scrambles up to find purchase on the car door. he grips it tightly, uses it as leverage to fuck into you faster. 

he’s breathless and strong and big and fucking gorgeous above you. even if you’re in a dark, empty parking lot, even if you can barely see him, you see enough of him. and you know it too. you don’t have to see it directly to be able to tell that there’s literally not a hotter sight to view. his skin is glistening slightly from the sweat due to the exertion and the tight space of the car, and if he were to lean close enough, you’d see the pink dust tinting his cheeks, and you know it’d be the perfect addition to his skin tone.

everything about him is so fucking intoxicating, that even just thinking about how attractive he is has you embarrassingly close to orgasming.

“i’m gonna cum,” you cry out, voice high pitched and so small. 

“i— shit, i know,” he groans, his nails digging into the skin of your stomach, his palm pressing down even harder, and you keen. god, is he in your stomach? his cock’s reaching parts of you you always think is impossible ever time he fucks you like this— every time he fucks you, ever. he grazes along every sensitive spot within you that’s borderline painful, yet so addicting. “you’re tightening ‘round me like crazy.”

you sob again, arms reaching for him and pulling him closer. willingly, he falls on top of you, barely able to hold himself up from fully crushing you. “i’m gonna cum,” you squeal out, arms squeezing at him, legs shaking around him as he presses his hand down just once more, before you’re sent over. “fuck, hngh, fuck— issei.”

your screams are dissolving into quiet cries and sighs as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, your body’s trembles dying down. “you’re so— so fucking good to me,” he gasps, head buried in your neck as you pat at his sweaty hair, his hips rocking into yours slowly yet efficiently, riding out his high. 

in response, you only moan appreciatively, combing softly through his hair as you momentarily shiver, your brain still clouded over from the rush of your orgasm.

“baby,” he mumbles into your neck, turning his head slightly to kiss and nip at your ear, at your jaw, your neck. “can we fuck again when we get home?” 

you laugh loudly, turning your head to press a firm, gentle kiss to his temple. “over every surface,” you agree. 

when he lifts himself up, he’s grinning cheekily, leaning down to ghost his lips directly over yours as he continues for you, “starting with the bathroom sink, then the shower, then the floor...” his grin doesn’t falter as he leans to press his lips on yours, and you hum a laugh against his lips. “every surface,” he adds, before he’s kissing you again. 

every surface, you recite, if you manage to even leave the car. 

[mandoalorian]

For some reason I really need to read Maxwell fucking reader in their luxurious walk in closet that’s basically a room of fuckable surfaces.

Blinding Lights [Maxwell Lord x F! Reader] SMUT

Warnings: 18+ smut, f recieving oral, fingering (guys it’s so intense i’m obsessed okay), cunningless, squirting, over stimulation, orgasm denial,  unprotected p in v,  pre-established relationship, soft Max but rough sex.

Word count: 3100>

Author’s Note: This is honestly one of my favourite smuts I’ve written in a long time. I’m proud of the detail (is that weird?) and I just hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, reblogs are appreciated. <3

Masterlist

Maxwell’s mouth was insistent, that much wasn’t a surprise. He always kissed you as if it was out of desperation. Hot and passionate -- like it might be his last chance kissing you forever. He savoured every moment, the taste of your tongue and the way your soft lips fit perfectly against his. You could faintly taste the vanilla lip balm he was wearing and couldn’t contain the wanton moan that escaped your throat when his big hands began caressing your body. They finally settled on your hips, and he dug his ring glad fingers into the soft skin there, offering you a playful squeeze.

When you squirmed beneath him, he chuckled, feeling a familiar heat flood his body. He nudged the curve of his nose against yours when you broke away from the kiss, but once he was satisfied that you had caught your breath, his lips came crashing down onto yours again. Maxwell took a few steps forward, pushing you into his walk-in closet and propping you against one of the shelves. He’d thought about this -- a lot.

You pulled away from his mouth once more and looked around, taking a second to process that you were no longer in his bedroom, but in his walk-in closet. It was enormous, and absolutely extensive in size. There was no reason, absolutely no reason whatsoever, for Maxwell to have this many power suits. Each one had been pressed and ironed perfectly before getting hung up. It was colour coordinated, but make no mistake, it looked like a rainbow. Racks on racks of shirts and ties and pocket squares, waistcoats, belts and suspenders, a display of cufflinks -- it honestly looked like a department store.

“Are you okay?” Maxwell asked, resting his forehead against yours. 

You fixed your gaze back onto his lust blown brown eyes and smiled. “I’m perfect,” you reassured him, and your heart swelled with joy as you watched his face light up. “I can’t believe we’ve been together for a year and I’ve never seen your closet.”

Maxwell dramatically cleared the shelf behind you of his shoes and knocked them all the ground. It didn’t go quite as smoothly as he imagined. It was something he’d seen in a movie once. He cleared his throat before finally speaking.

“Yeah,” he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. So you hadn’t seen his closet… so what? He’d shown you everything else. You’d literally travelled the world with him -- and you were fixating on the fact you’ve never seen his closet. To him, it wasn’t a big deal. But to you, it just showed that your boyfriend still somehow managed to be an enigma. You weren’t mad or upset, if anything, you found it endearing. In a way, it was nice that you were still finding things out about Max, even though you’d already known him for so long. “But I’ve wanted to fuck you in here since I first brought you home.” Maxwell grumbled in admittance, leaning in to pepper kisses along your neck and down your collarbone.

He needily tugged on the hem of your dress, making it clear that he wanted it gone. You pulled the thin material over your head and dropped it to the ground.

“So perfect,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to caress as his chaste kisses deepened down to the valley of your breasts. You felt his free hand snake behind you as he fiddled with the clasp that held your bra together. “May I?”

“Yes,” you breathed out needily, and within a second, your bra was gone. Now just in your panties, you nodded in the direction of your boyfriend. “Your turn.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes but couldn’t escape his grin as excitement filled him. You loved seeing him smile. Not that fake, forced television smile -- but his real, genuine smile. You knew it was real because he had this little dimple in the left of his cheek that always popped out. You felt so lucky that you were one of the only ones that got to see him like this. You were one of the only people who could make him smile -- and make his heart blossom with so much love and adoration. To Maxwell, you were truly a figment of perfection. He was an esteemed, intimidating businessman. But you were like an angel; soft and delicate. You made him a better person without even trying.

It took him a little longer to undress -- discarding the jacket, and then the tie, and then his suspenders, and then unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off his shoulders. The second he was shirtless, you did what you always did. You reached out and wrapped your arms around him, relishing in the heat of his broad and tan chest. You nuzzled your head into him and he began to softly smooth out your hair.

“I love you so much.” he uttered softly, pressing a kiss into your hair. His stomach erupted into butterflies when he felt you smile against his skin.

“I love you too.” you sighed into admittance.

When you pulled away, he cupped your face and his thumb brushed the height of your cheekbone. You were half expecting another deep kiss, but his lips barely brushed against yours.

“Get up.” He ordered, pointing at the shelf he’d just cleared of his shoes. You turned around in surprise but followed his demand, hopping up and sitting on the shelf. Your feet were dangling off the edge. You were only a few inches from the ground, but it truly felt like you were sitting on a cloud.

He adored your body and he made sure you knew it. He spent a few minutes gawking, and if it was anyone else, you would’ve felt uncomfortable. But you were so madly in love with Max Lord, you let him look for as long as he wanted. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to get shirtless, as he had an air of insecurity about his body, but the two of you trusted each other one hundred percent and being around Max (and Max being around you) gave you both a significant boost of confidence. 

“You’re so amazing.” Max breathed out, shaking his head incredulously and clasping his hands together in awe. It almost looked like he was praying.

You tossed your head back and Max felt his cock jump in his tailored pants at the way you exposed the column of your neck, just for him. “Stop,” you groaned. You were glad your head was thrown back so Max couldn’t see the flush of heat that crossed your cheeks. “You always say that.”

“But it’s true!” he exclaimed before taking a step forward and bringing his hand to your neck, giving it an experimental squeeze. 

“Max please,” you whimpered, crossing your legs together as you felt the arousal pool in your panties.

“Please what?” he asked, his warm breath fanning over your ear lobe.

“You know.” you drawled out as his hand cradled your breast again. He dropped his hand down to your stomach and let it linger just above the hem of your lace panties.

“I want you to say it.” he hissed, making your cunt clench around nothing. Gods -- you needed him. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You gasped out, and a wicked smirk crossed Max’s lips. His eyes were almost black at this point, and his dark blonde hair that was once perfectly styled, was now disheveled, with little waves falling out of place.

A small hum of acknowledgement left his lips as he rubbed his middle finger and index finger over the material of your panties. Max grunted at the feel of your clit through the lace material.

“You’re already so wet and I��ve barely even touched you,” Max praised, bringing his finger up to the bright closet lights and revelling in how your arousal glistened on his digit.

You needily rubbed your knee against his erection and he groaned, hating how confined he felt in the fitted suit pants. You loved to hear him. The noises he made during sex were sweet like honey and they turned you on so much. “I have to taste you.” Max announced finally, dropping to his knees and pulling your panties down.

He threw them haphazardly to the floor, in a puddle amongst yours and his other garments of discarded clothes. Just the vision of him on his knees between your legs was enough to drive you crazy. It was like he was worshipping you. Max softly began to palm at your knees as he spread you open. He leaned in, pressing hot, wet kisses into the softness of your inner thighs where it felt like cream.

The curve of his nose nudged against your clit and you tried holding back a cry as a jolt of pleasure ran through your core. He was taking his time, making you wait -- ever the tease. You brought your hands down to the back of his head and let your fingers tangle in his soft locks of hair. You gently pushed his face further into your core, hoping he’d get the message.

It was like he read your mind. He licked a hot stripe between your folds and the simple movement had you already seeing stars. You bundled his hair up into a fist and waited for him to lap at you again. Though this time, he changed his technique. He blessed you with short and fast kitten licks, and everytime he skillfully maneuvered his tongue over your bundle of nerves, you felt yourself near climax.

“Oh Max,” you moaned, not even realising the way your legs had clamped around his head. The wet noises that echoed through the confines of the box shaped closet were obscene, and you might have once been embarrassed, but quite frankly, in this moment, you had other things on your mind.

The tip of his tongue began to flick in and out your entrance and you let go of his hair at the sudden intrusion. You cried out, having no reason to care about how loud you were being. It was just you and him. “Oh fuck Max.” 

His tongue increased speed, faster and faster, and it felt like your body was about to fall off a cliff and into a tingling sea of ecstasy. But he suddenly pulled off you when he sensed how close you were, denying you of an orgasm and leaving you a heaving panting mess. 

You wanted to smack him. You wanted to get your revenge. How could he do this? You were so close. You were so close to cumming, literally just from his tongue. When you finally gained the energy to open your eyes, you’d mentally prepared yourself to say something but you were greeted with the image of Max and his pretty puppy dog eyes blinking up at you. And immediately all your thoughts were lost. His lips were shining with your wetness and curled up into a smile.

“You know I’m just preparing you for what’s to come, right?” He quizzed, raising his eyebrows. Okay, he had a point.

“Could’a still let me cum.” you grumbled, pouting your lips to sign your disapproval of the unfair nature of his game.

Max furrowed his eyebrows together and frowned. “Baby, what have I taught you?” He asked, and when you didn’t answer, he sighed. “To be patient.”

His gaze didn’t leave yours once, but still, he managed to bring his thick, ring clad finger back down to your core and push it deep inside of you. He didn’t take it slow, like the softness in his eyes might’ve implied. He thrusted his index finger as deep as he could and immediately located the special sweet spot inside of you -- the one he had memorised so carefully. 

Instead of adopting his usual routine, he did something that took you by surprise. He didn’t remove his finger, it wasn’t an ‘in-and-out’ type of thing. He scraped the tip of the digit against your g-spot, his finger curling inside of you as he did so.  It was ethereal. You’d truly never felt an intensity quite like it, and he wouldn’t stop. It was rapid and hard and the sensation you felt was blinding. The pleasure burned through your body like wildfire, and it didn’t take long at all before you had completely submitted to him. You couldn’t take anything in, you couldn’t process his actions anymore, it was too overwhelming. Overbearing too, but in the best way imaginable. He was stimulating you persistently, and no matter how much your thighs shaked or your cunt clenched around his finger, he just kept going. 

Somewhere down the line, your eyes had snapped shut.

“Look at me,” Maxwell growled. You whimpered and squirmed, pretending like you didn’t hear him. To be fair, his voice was just an echo in the background, your feelings of how good this felt were at the forefront of your mind and Gods, why had he never tried this before? “Look at me or I stop.” He warned.

You didn’t know if he’d actually stop, but you knew for a fact you didn’t want to risk it. So it took all your might, but you managed to open your eyes, your gaze pleading with him, begging him to keep going.

And he did.

Had you cum yet? Surely you had. It felt like you’d cum a thousand times over, your body aching and tired. When he brought the thumb of his free hand to your clit and began to circle it, you wanted to scream. Maybe you did, you didn’t even know anymore. You couldn’t see clearly, everything was just like white noise.

That was it. That was the final straw. The lower portion of your body was a spasming mess and you had completely lost all focus. There was no going back. Until, his finger doubled out of you, lightning fast, as bolts of pleasure zapped through your body.

“Holy shit!” Max hissed, his eyes wide as he took in the sight before him.

You still weren’t entirely sure what was going on, until you felt… wet? Wetter than before. Significantly wetter than before. 

“Oh fuck baby,” Max whispered, and you managed to catch a blurred glimpse of his face before he plunged his finger back inside of you. His face looked wet too. “You’re perfect. So perfect.” he praised.

“Wh-- what-- wh--” you could barely even find words as he continued to finger you. Despite his actions being slow this time, the overstimulation was killing.

“You squirted, princess.” Max smiled proudly, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“I-- what-- I did-- what--” You were still in disbelief. So that’s… that’s what that was. It felt like a molten hot tornado ripping through your body -- and you’d never felt anything like it before but there wasn’t a chance you’d trade the feeling for the world.  “I’ve never done that before.” you confessed, relishing in your post-orgasm haze.

“I’m glad I could make you do it then.” Max said before removing his finger and placing it on his tongue, moaning at the taste of you.

He gave you about a minute as you came down from your high, and as you did so, he unbuckled his belt, pulled it through the loops of his pants and got completely naked in front of you. You were still on cloud nine when you felt the bulbous tip of his cock press against your core.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Max whispered, leaning over your body and nibbling at the skin of your neck. “Just like you wanted, okay? And I’m not going to be gentle.”

Well, at least he warned you.

He thrusted deep inside of you, his movements relentless. You clenched around him, desperate to milk him for all he had. It was amazing, the feeling of every ridge and vein of his cock rub against your walls. He was going to make you cum again, you were sure of it, and you knew it was going to be soon.

The way his length throbbed and twitched inside of you -- you knew he was close too. You were so insanely wet from squirting, you could even feel your juices drip down the curve of your ass. You couldn’t imagine the mess you made, probably sitting in a puddle of your own arousal right now. 

You wished the moment would last forever, but he rested his head in the crook between your neck and shoulder and bit down on you. “Gonna cum.” he gasped, fucking you even harder. Faster. Deeper. You were a shaking mess.

“Cum inside of me, Maxie.” you begged, tugging on his locks of hair and giving him just enough motivation to let go.

“Almost there.” He groaned before gasping out as his salty seed spurted inside of you, roping your walls filling you up.

He stayed inside of you until he softened, hugging you tight and kissing you softly. “I love you so much, so so much.” He’d confess in between kisses. “Never leave me. Please never leave me. I love you too much.”

You could feel his heartbeat against your own as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I’m never leaving you Maxie, I promise.”

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 2

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasn’t even remotely focused on it.

My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.

“Are you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?” The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.

I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.

They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If they’d asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldn’t mind.

But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.

Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.

The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.

“y/n? Are you alright?”

I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, “I’m um.. I’m fine, sorry.”

I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didn’t seem too convinced.

I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.

Until the man’s wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.

I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.

“Jesus y/n, what’s gotten into you?”

I’m asking that same question, mom.

“Nothing, I uh- think I’m just tired,” the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, “I’m just.. I’m gonna go shower for the party later.”

I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Well that was smooth, dumbass,” I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me.  

That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I haven’t even had a single conversation with him.

I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.

This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..

I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.

Act like it didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen.

____________

Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls weren’t thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.

Of course, my dad’s annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldn’t be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.

As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when I’ll probably end up being one of those people.

I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.

While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to get much yet again.

With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.

The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.

It was a blessing that the noise didn’t affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.

With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.

Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, I’m bombarded by my mother.

“Hey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!” her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.

Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.

Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.

After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.

I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.

As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadn’t seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.

The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.

They had all gotten so close to one another, that they’d have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.

While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.

Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.

I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathan’s reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.

I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.

As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.

There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the others’ heads. Though, I still couldn’t get a proper look at his face yet.

I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.

I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.

Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.

From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nate’s banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.

The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

By this point I would’ve  been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But  fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape.  

“Oh my god y/n?” My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.

Well great.

I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.

“Elena, it’s so good to see you,” I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, “especially when I’ve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.”

I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.

“What are you two laughing about? What’d I do this time?” Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.

“Oh nothing, Nate,” Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.

Even with Elena and I’s pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.

Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Crash.”

Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift. 

“It’s been too long, Aku.”

We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.

I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown. 

“So who’s this?” I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.

But silence continued to radiate around us. 

They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat. 

That is, before Nate finally spoke up, “Y/n, this is Sam,” he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, “Sam Drake.”

I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. 

“Is this your-” I pointed between the both of them.

“He’s my older brother.” Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck. 

My face fell even more if it was even possible.

Wait.

Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make Sam…

I looked at Sam’s face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were. 

Great. Not only was I checking out Nathan’s BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.

Fuck.

[lomlwintersoldier]

“Mine. Mine to Me.”

Word Count: 1494

A/N: jfc I have missed writing- tfatws has reignited my love for marvel and for Bucky so hopefully I can push out a few more oneshots/drabble/chapters in between classes. Although for the time being, I only want to write stories where Tony, Steve, and Natasha still exist :( as far as I care, endgame didn’t happen. 

This one was inspired by the line from the new Jungle book :)

97 days.

That’s how long you’d been on this mission, one long, painfully unbroken stretch of time. 97 days without seeing home or any recognizable face except for Natasha’s. And the days seemed to stretch longer and longer as time went on and at this point, you couldn’t wait to leave. 

You’d spend most of the winter in the harsh mountains of Serbia, gathering intel and running supplies to an abandoned factory building that the Avengers hoped to turn into a base. Tony trusted the two of you to shape the compound in his image but, damn, were you tired of it. Thankfully though, you and Natasha were slated to leave today, both of you anxiously waiting to make the journey home. 

“You doing okay, Y/N?” Natasha asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You give her a wounded smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just can’t wait to go home.” 

“Me neither.” She gives your hand a comforting squeeze as she walks off to check the perimeter, ensuring that the building was still abandoned. 

You continue packing up yours and Natasha’s things, although neither of you had brought more than a few changes of clothes and some basic toiletries. HYDRA had taught both of you how to exist on nearly nothing. 

Natasha strides back in as you finish cleaning up and you wordlessly hand her her pack. 

“Let’s head out,” you state. 

She nods and the both of you make the long hike back to the hidden quinjet you’d left 3 months ago. It was about a day's hike from the base because secrecy was of utmost importance to this mission. 

You’re quiet for most of the miles you two walk but it’s not uncomfortable. Both you and Natasha didn’t need long conversations which was why the two of you had become so close. Words flowed like a steady stream between you but both of you understood and felt comfortable in silence as well. 

By the time you reach the jet hidden in a snowy cave, it’s dusk and you’re wiped. The thin air, gusting winds and snow took a lot out of you.  

“8 hours until we’re home, Y/N,” Natasha says, a smile curving her lips and you return her smile.

“I’m sure Bucky missed you as much as you missed him,” she states as if she could read your mind. 

Your heart pangs. Goddamn, you’d missed him over these last three months. “I just can’t wait to see him again.” 

“I know, hun,” her own words colored with longing. This time, you squeeze her hand. 

“Steve missed you too, Nat.”

Her hands clench the joystick and she nods. “I really hope he did.” 

You lean back in your chair, trying to breathe and allow yourself to feel excitement at the thought of coming home, but you were far too cautious and pessimistic to believe that nothing would go wrong in the eight hours it would take to get back to New York. 

You settle into your seat and try to think only of Bucky. Of his musky, earthy scent and the dark strands of hair that brushed your cheeks every time he kissed you. God, you couldn’t wait to kiss him. Your mind drifts to his lips, plump and soft and your heart jumps as you think of how good it would feel to just feel him in your arms again. 

Eventually you drift off into sleep, the dark clouds you’re coasting over not providing enough stimulation for your brain to keep you awake. You don’t know how much time has passed but when you open your eyes again, a sliver of orange glow hangs on the horizon. It’s nearly morning. 

“Want me to take over?” You ask, your voice hoarse and cracking from sleep.

Natasha glances over and you can see the weariness in her eyes as she nods and flicks on the autopilot switch. You take her place and she takes yours, falling asleep within seconds. 

The sun peeks over billowing clouds as you guide the jet through the sky at speeds normal people could only dream of reaching. Resisting the urge to push the plane faster to reach your destination just a few minutes quicker, you decide to focus on the rising sun. 

Finally, after it feels like forever and a day, the New York City skyline begins to poke through the low hanging clouds and you breathe a sigh of relief. So close. 

You take the jet past the city, into the countryside of New York where the compound was. Where home rested. 

“Nat,” you call out softly, gently raising her from her sleep. “We’re home.” 

You exchange excited smiles as both of you see two hulking figures standing on the landing pad, where you guide the plane down. When the wheels touch down you can barely keep yourself from leaping to your feet, but you remember to power the plane down first. Natasha grabs the packs as you unbuckle and you grip each other’s hands when you hit the button to open the doors. 

Bright sunlight suddenly burns your eyes and you quickly shut them, squinting through the rays as you make your way down the steps. As your eyes get used to the brightness, his shape begins to form in your eyeline.

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt, proudly showing off the black and gold arm he’d received from Wakanda and your heart swells. He used to feel such embarrassment over his HYDRA given arm and to see him stand there, so stoically, gives you pride. 

His face splits into a wide grin as he steps toward you. 

“Bucky,” his name falls from your lips in a hushed whisper as he struts over to you. Your own face hurts and you realize it’s because you’re smiling as widely as he is and you lose all composure. 

Your legs pick up in a run and he stops, spreading his muscular, sinewy arms, ready to catch you. You seem to hang in space, so close yet so far, you can hardly believe he’s real. But before you know it, your body slams into his, his arms coiling tightly around you as a hearty laugh escapes his chest. 

“Hey, dol—“ Your lips crash to his, cutting his words off but you don’t care. You’re drunk on the taste of his love. He returns your kiss, fingers splayed across your back as he gently lowers you to the ground. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, deepening the kiss and you feel his need for you beneath the surface, evidenced by how tightly he’s holding you. He missed you as much as you did. 

“God, I missed you so much!” You exclaim against his lips. He pulls back from your lips but keeps his hands cupped around your cheeks. He takes a breath before he responds, savoring the moment as he holds you in his ocean blue gaze before pulling you close again. His head dips into your neck, stubble scratching the tender skin. 

“I missed you too, love,” he murmurs against you as you entwine your fingers in his hair, eyes closed into the sun. 

It’s rays never felt warmer. 

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

“So how much did you miss me?” You ask coyly as you gaze into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, fingers twirling lazily in his long locks. His metal hand lightly traces circles on your shoulders as a smirk curves the edge of his lips. 

“I thought I just showed you that,” he chuckles, eyes gesturing to your naked body knowingly. 

“Yeah....yeah I guess you did,” you laugh as you nuzzle in closer to him. 

“I really missed you.” You’ve said the words about a hundred times since you got back, just a few hours ago but it still doesn’t feel real to have him here, so close. 

You wrap your leg around his waist, pressing your chest against his and his arms circle around you, as if he’s shielding you from the outside world; it’s just the two of you, no one else but you and him in this bed and in your minds. It’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. 

“I was just counting the days,” he murmurs into your hair. “I was going crazy by the end of it though.” 

You chuckle, “you didn’t find anyone to keep you warm while I was gone?” 

You ask the question tentatively masked by a joking façade but you fear the answer. The two of you hadn’t had the time to really define the boundaries of your relationship before you’d gone and it was still relatively new. His arms tighten over you. 

“Of course not.” He pulls back to look at your face. “You’re mine. Mine to me.” 

Your heart skips a beat at his words. 

“You’re mine too,” you whisper, leaning forward to kiss his nose. “Mine to me.”

“You’re the only one that has me, baby,” he murmurs. “And you’re the only one I’m ever gonna want.”

A small smile crosses your lips. 

Yours. His. Mine.