#and sometimes long after you're 'supposed' to have gotten over it
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#sometimes grief hits you in weird ways#and sometimes long after you're 'supposed' to have gotten over it#it's been two years#and I still get upset when I get ads for cute cat vests#I miss you buddy
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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)
hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!
summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam
warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!
word count: 2,925
nsfw after the cut!!
You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.
...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.
Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.
Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.
"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.
"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"
His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.
"Use your words," he demanded.
"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.
"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.
"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.
"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.
He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.
“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.
“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.
“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”
With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.
“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.
“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.
“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.
“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.
“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.
“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.
“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.
“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.
“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.
“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.
“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.
“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.
When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.
#josh hutcherson x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt imagine#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson fluff#josh hutcherson imagine#mike schmidt smut#olderbf!mike
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The Nation of War
Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: Upon stepping foot in the Nation of War, Aether and Paimon offers to give you and the men a tour around the beautiful nation. However, during the exploration/tour of the nation, you all meet Aether and Paimon's friends from the Pyro Nation. One friend in particular captures your attention— and it is not human. Also, are you allowed to have... pets (?) at the abode?
Note: Since the little Tepetlisaur Whelp we meet in Genshin doesn't have a specific given name, I decided to name the Saurian "Dakarai" for this fic and any future fics he makes an appearance in. I named my Saurian companion because it's fitting, and I don't have the heart to change it to something else. If you're not a fan of the name I picked for this fic (and future fics if he makes an appearance), then feel free to change it! :> Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of 🤔 Natlan characters are probably out of character. Zhongli and Neuvillette being jealous again (hehehe)
Word Count: 5.4k
“Remember to stick close to us so you won’t get lost. We’ve been to Natlan many times and would hate for you to get lost.” Paimon says, looping her arms around yours as you, Paimon, Aether, and the others enter the Nation of War.
Is Paimon referring to the time when you got lost in Fontaine and Wriothesley and Neuvillette were the ones who found you? If so, she didn’t need to call you out like that. Sometimes, your sense of direction is great! Other times… not so much, but not once has it gotten you killed!
You look at your surroundings in awe. Natlan is a beautiful nation— wait, is that a dinosaur? You snap your neck to look at the others, pointing at the tall creature with eyes the size of saucers. Aether chuckles and pats your head. “I had the same reaction when I first saw the long-necked rhino,” Aether says.
“Is there a reason why you brought us to Natlan? Not that I’m complaining, I’m rather curious.” Diluc says, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a step closer to you in case a Fatui Agent decides to attack.
You rub the back of your neck before raising your hand. “It’s my idea to go to Natlan, actually.” After hearing countless stories about Natlan from Aether and Paimon, it makes you want to visit the nation. A nation that has roaming dragons— also known as Saurians, how can you not want to visit?
“What are we going to do in Natlan aside from exploring?” Gorou mutters, looking at his surroundings curiously, his ears twitching at the littlest unfamiliar sounds around him.
Aether and Paimon shrug while you continue to look at the wild Saurians with excitement. There are so many of them roaming around! And some of them have human companions by their sides! From a distance, a small roar pulls you out of your thoughts. You turn to see a small Rex Lapis-looking creature charging at your group at full speed.
Itto stretches his arm out in front of everyone, glaring at the approaching creature. “Don’t worry, everyone! I’ll protect us all from this tiny menace!” Itto announces.
In the blink of an eye, the creature burrows into the ground, disappearing from sight. Itto blinks and lets his arm fall at his side, confused about where the little creature has disappeared off to. The small creature hops from the ground, roaring almost cutely. It waddles towards Aether and Paimon, bouncing with excitement.
You cover your mouth, suppressing a squeal. “Who is this cutie?!” You coo.
Paimon props her hands on her hips and floats beside the adorable creature. “[Y/N], everyone else, meet Dakarai! He is our,” she gestures to her and Aether, “traveling companion! He’s a Tepetlisaur Whelp.”
Dakarai, the Tepetlisaur Whelp, looks at you curiously, tilting his head to the side. You quietly squeal, taking a few steps toward the Saurian and holding your hand out for him to sniff. Is that what you’re supposed to do when introducing yourself to a creature? Dakarai leans toward your hand, sniffing your hand while gazing at you curiously.
“You’re so cute, Dakarai,” you whisper, continuing to examine the adorable Tepetlisaur Whelp. “Can I bring you home with me?” You pet the adorable Saurian as he excitedly roars.
Your heart feels like it can burst at any second because of how cute Dakarai is. He’s half your size, so you don’t think you can sneak him back to the abode if you did try to bring him back. Are you even allowed to take Saurians out of Natlan? It’s not a crime, is it?
Thoma sighs, crossing his arms over his chest while shaking his head, pouting. “I can’t believe that I’m jealous of a Saurian,” Thoma mutters, chuckling to himself.
Ayato chuckles, watching you and Dakarai interact with each other. The Tepetlisaur Whelp examines you from head to toe curiously, shuffling from side to side to get a 360 view of you. You did the same, cooing over the littlest thing Dakarai does. You’re almost in tears over how cute the Tepetlisaur Welp is, holding back the urge to bring him into a crushing hug and take him back to the abode.
Ayato leans towards Thoma, not taking his eyes off you and Dakarai, whispering, “We should keep an eye on [Y/N] in case they try to Saurian-nap Dakarai.”
Thoma hums, nodding in agreement with the Kamisato Heir. Dakarai turns around, wiggling his tail, when you notice the orange-yellow handkerchief wrapped around it. Paimon and Aether tell you the backstory of the said handkerchief.
After explaining the backstory, the journey to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame continues. Of course, Dakarai tags along. Instead of being by Aether and Paimon’s side, Dakarai sticks by you while you continue to fight the urge to snatch him up.
Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head while he watches you pet the top of Dakarai’s head. “It looks like another dragon has captured [Y/N]’s heart,” Kaeya comments, glancing at Zhongli and Neuvillette from the corner of his eyes (eye?) with a teasing smile.
Zhongli and Neuvillette huff, looking away from Kaeya’s teasing gaze. Dakarai is adorable, yes, but is he powerful enough to protect you from harm's way? Probably, but Zhongli and Neuvillette digress! There’s a dark aura surrounding both Zhongli and Neuvillette as they watch you fawn over Dakarai. You stop in your tracks and snuggle the Tepetlisaur Whelp after getting approval from Dakarai. Dakarai is more than happy to be on the receiving end of your affection, wrapping his arms around your waist while you hug him tightly.
Thunder cracks in the distance as dark, ominous clouds roll in, replacing the once-sunny sky. Everyone freezes while Dakarai tilts his head, trying to process where the sound is coming from.
You slowly release the Tepetlisaur Whelp, looking at your beloved boyfriends worriedly. “I didn’t know it was going to rain today,” you say, propping your hands on your hips as you listen to thunder clapping in the distance.
Rain has yet to pour, thank the Archons, but you and everyone else still have a long way to go. You turn to Neuvillette, who has a stoic look on his face. You two make eye contact, and he quickly diverts his attention elsewhere. You frown and look at Zhongli, who shakes his head with disapproval before walking towards you.
Zhongli sighs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “No need to fret, dearest. I came prepared for situations like this,” Zhongli says, pulling out an umbrella.
Dakarai roars softly, staring at the umbrella curiously. Zhongli holds the umbrella towards Dakarai’s direction, watching the Tepetlisaur Whelp sniff and analyze the contraption. After sniffing and analyzing the contraption, Dakarai takes a step back and looks up at Zhongli. Zhongli smiles and presses his hand on Dakarai’s head, gently petting the creature. You squeal, pulling a Kamera out of your satchel, and quickly snap a photo of Zhongli and Dakarai together. Zhongli and Dakarai freeze when the light flashes, blinking at you.
Childe clears his throat, wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulders. “Snookums~! I understand you love taking pictures of things that make you smile, but I think we should continue our journey to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, or else we’ll get rained on,” Childe says, gesturing to the even darker sky.
Scaramouche rolls his eyes, muttering, “For once, I agree with this idiot.”
Childe ignores Scaramouche’s comment and proceeds to drag you towards the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. Everyone follows closely behind, and of course, Dakarai is by your side. Occasionally, you will bring your Kamera out to snap pictures of nearby Saurians from a safe distance. As much as you want to run up to one and snatch one up for yourself, seeing the fully grown Tepetlisaurs scares you, and you don’t want to be tossed around in front of your beloveds and the Tepetlisaur Whelps.
“Aether! Paimon! Is that you!?” A girl hollers from a distance.
Aether stops in his tracks and turns to see two girls and a boy barrelling toward him and your group. The two girls stop in front of Aether and Paimon, tackling them into a hug. Aether and Paimon greet the two girls while you and the other men awkwardly stand there.
An obnoxious voice interrupts the sweet reunion, “Aw, how sweet! A reunion between friends from afar! Barf!” You turn to see a small floating creature— what is he exactly?— approaching your group with a bluish-black-haired male following behind.
The man rolls his eyes, giving your group an almost sympathetic look. “Ignore Ajaw. This is how he usually is,” the man says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh? I’m surprised you have this many friends, Aether. Is it hard to tolerate someone as annoying as him?” Ajaw asks, snickering.
Everyone stares at Ajaw, unsure of what to say. You, on the other hand, look at Ajaw from head to toe. For someone as small as him, he sure is bold. You’re not sure how the man beside the small creature tolerates that much annoyance. Noticing your stare, Ajaw flies towards you, floating really close to your face.
“Hey, you! You look interesting out of the bunch— or should I say, you look boring compared to the rest of the group! Ha! What makes you so special, huh?” Ajaw asks, flying around you like an annoying fly. “Everyone has a vision, minus yourself! Heh, I bet you’re not—”
“Alright, that’s enough, Ajaw,” the bluish-black-haired man interrupts the creature.
The creature— Ajaw, gapes at the man before sputtering incoherent nonsense, thrashing his tiny arms around. Without a single word, the man brushes Ajaw away, sending him into the air before disappearing. Everyone shields their eyes, searching for the flying menace, only to no avail.
The man sighs, shaking his head. “I apologize for Ajaw’s behavior. I would say that he wouldn’t do it next time, but…” he trails off, rolling his eyes.
Paimon clears her throat, nervously laughing. “Let me introduce you all to each other! This can take some time.”
Both Aether and Paimon take turns introducing each person to their friends from Natlan. Ajaw definitely doesn’t need an introduction, and thankfully, he’s not present throughout the entire introduction. The introduction itself doesn’t take as long as you thought it would. However, after the introduction, Ajaw did return, much to your dismay.
“We can show you around Natlan if you’d like! Although I’m not sure where you guys are headed to…” Mualani trails off, stroking her chin.
Venti shrugs his shoulders. “We’re okay with going anywhere! We initially plan on going straight to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame! But we’re open to going anywhere since Windblume has been taking a lot of pictures!” Venti says, throwing his arm over your shoulders.
Kachina’s eyes light up, excitedly running up to you. “Oooh! What did you take pictures of? Can I see?” Kachina enthusiastically asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
You smile and happily show the collection of images you took while exploring the Pyro Nation. Most of the pictures are of Saurians— Tepetlisaur Whelps, to be more specific. They’re just so cute that you couldn’t resist taking photos of them from a safe distance. One photo that stands out from the rest (your favorite photo) is a selfie of you and Dakarai.
Kinich looks up only to see you attempting to carry the Tepetlisaur Whelp. Dakarai squirms in your arms, looking around quizzically. You place Dakarai on the ground, panting. Archons, it’s like holding a mini boulder.
Mualani giggles and covers her mouth. “It looks like you’re incredibly fond of Tepetlisaurs! If you’d like, I can show you a spot where many of them are usually gathered,” Mualani offers, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “The skies have cleared up, so they should be around!”
Your eyes light up. “Ooh! Can you?” You squeal.
Mualani and Kachina giggle, grabbing hold of your wrist before dragging you in the opposite direction with the others watching. Xiao looks over at Zhongli and Neuvillette from the corner of his eyes; the two men look displeased. The once-gray skies have cleared up, but it looks like the rain clouds will be showing up in a moment.
The group follows you, Mualani, and Kachina to where the Tepetlisaur site is located. Once everyone arrives at the site, there’s a lot of Tepetlisaur and Tepetlisaur Whelps roaming the area, minding their business and not knowing what’s to come.
Mualani turns to you. “You can admire them from a distance! I don’t recommend getting close to them because they can and will attack you if you come any closer,” Mualani instructs.
You nod, pull your Kamera out, and start taking pictures of the Tepetlisaur and their Whelps. Neuvillette watches you take pictures of the Saurians, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh. The light gray skies gradually become darker as time goes by. Wriothesley clears his throat, patting the Iudex’s shoulders.
“It’s alright, Monsieur Neuvillette. I’m sure [Y/N] doesn’t love the Tepetlisaurs as much as they love you,” Wriothesley reassures the Chief Justice of Fontaine.
Neuvillette ignores Wriothesley’s comment and continues to watch you fawn over the Saurians. Neuvillette glances at Zhongli, who seems content compared to himself. Zhongli looks at the sky, then at Neuvillette. The two of them stare at each other, communicating through body language.
You squat on the ground, taking various images of the Tepetlisaurs. While you’re distracted with capturing images of the adorable Saurians, you fail to notice one Tepetlisaur Whelp approach you from behind. The small creature tilts its head to the side, looking at you from head to toe with curiosity.
The Tepetlisaur Whelp lets out a small roar, startling you. You turn to see the Tepetlisaur Whelp gaze at you, waddling from side to side to get a better look at you. You’re not sure if you should be afraid or coo at the Whelp. The small roar of the Tepetlisaur Whelp catches the attention of other nearby Whelps. They slowly migrate towards you, making you a little anxious. It’s not that you’re afraid of them potentially attacking you, but you’re more worried about the adult Tepetlisaurs charging at you for being in the same vicinity as their babies.
Tighnari’s ears perk up with alertness, looking at the others worriedly. “Oh, dear. We need to get them out of there, or else they’ll become an easy target for the adult Tepetlisaurs,” Tighnari says.
“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” Cyno mutters, gesturing towards your direction.
Everyone’s heads snap in your direction only to see a hoard of Tepetlisaur Whelps surrounding you. Thankfully, none of the Whelps are attacking you or charging at you. They stare at you curiously, some roaring cutely and others shuffling around you. Dakarai waddles toward you, only for you to realize that Dakarai is a bit bigger than the other Whelps.
You squat, holding your hand out. The Tepetlisaur Whelps sniff your hand, blinking at you. One Tepetlisaur Whelp, in particular, nudges its head against your leg. You stare at the Saurian, wondering if it's trying to attack you. It didn’t seem hostile— or, at least to you, it seems harmless.
You randomly pick up one Tepetlisaur Whelp, holding it out in front of you. You and the Whelp stare at each other without saying a word. The Tepetlisaur Whelp blinks at you, tilting its head to the side curiously. You softly squeal, refraining from hugging the adorable Saurian. The Tepetlisaur Whelp tilts its head back and lets out a soft roar.
You turn to look at the others, nearly dropping the Saurian in your hands. Everyone has their weapons drawn, and you realize you have a shield around you— thanks to Zhongli. You place the Tepetlisaur Whelp back on the ground, unsure of what to do next. Do you continue taking pictures of the Tepetlisaur Whelps, or do you run for your life in case the adult Tepetlisaur charges toward you?
Kaveh clears his throat, cupping his hand around his mouth, shouting, “[Y/N], darling, slowly make your way towards us. Try not to draw attention to yourself!”
“Since you decided to become a megaphone, I highly doubt the Tepetlisaurs will be paying attention to [Y/N] after that,” Al Haitham comments, shaking his head.
You slowly walk toward your beloveds and new friends without looking back to see if the Whelps are watching you. Dear Archons above, you sure hope the adult Tepetlisaurs didn’t notice the swarm of Whelps around you. Who knows what will happen if the Whelp’s parents notice their babies being so close to a human?
Once you stand in front of your beloveds, Paimon, and new friends, you notice they’re not looking at you anymore. In fact, they’re looking behind you and at the ground. The shield around you disappears, and you feel something nudge at your legs. Just as you’re about to look down, Mualani launches at you.
“I don’t recommend looking down! While the Saurian is nudging at your legs, it’s completely harmless! However, our time is up! I want to show you another area that has two other types of Saurians! Have you ever heard of Koholasaurs and Yumkasaurs?” Mualani asks, looping her arms around yours as she quickly pulls you in the opposite direction.
You shake your head, allowing Mualani and Kachina to pull you wherever they desire. They both lead you to the top of the mountain, showing you the beautiful landscapes Natlan has to offer. While being able to view almost the entirety of Natlan is a wonderful opportunity, you can’t help but feel nauseous after seeing how high up you all are.
This new area is different from where you were prior. There’s a sizeable body of water where the Koholasaurs and Yumkasaurs are roaming around, living in harmony. There are a couple of Whelps scattered in some areas of the Teticpac Peak, though you hardly see any of the Koholasaur Whelps. The Koholasaurs remind you of sharks but with arms and legs and are oddly muscular.
“Are you sure it’s safe to be in this area?” Baizhu asks, pulling out his first aid kit just in case.
Kachina giggles and nods. “Of course it is, Doctor Baizhu! As long as we keep our distance and don’t come too close to the Whelps, we should be safe here!”
“That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you want to make it,” Heizou laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
Capitano sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll keep watch of [Y/N] as they take pictures of the landscape and creatures.” Capitano doesn’t leave room for protests as you nod, grabbing hold of Capitano’s hands and pulling him to an area where you can take pictures of the Saurians without disturbing them. Capitano stands close to you, scanning the surrounding area.
Kinich eyes Capitano before turning to look at everyone, who seems to also be on edge, while the other three look pretty content with the Harbinger being so close to you. Kinich sighs, eyeing the Harbinger from head to toe.
“You don’t have to worry over anything, boy. With Capitano around, [Y/N] is safe.” Pierro says gruffly.
Kinich analyzes each man in the group— every man has their eyes glued on you and nothing else. Of course, they will check the surroundings to make sure nothing is creeping up on you and Capitano (mainly you), but Kinich can’t put his fingers on it. Kinich clears his throat to grab the group’s attention but to no avail. These men are not taking their eyes off you at all, and seeing how they immediately drew their weapons when the Tepetlisaur Whelps surrounded you says so much without being blatantly obvious.
“What is [Y/N] to all of you?” Kinich asks, finally grabbing everyone’s attention.
Kazuha chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “[Y/N] is someone very precious to us all. We love and cherish them and will protect them at all costs,” says Kazuha, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink.
Kinich raises his eyebrows at Kazuha’s answer. Kinich understands what Kazuha is implying, but he doesn’t want to make an assumption out of an innocent answer. But he is right, though, right?
Noticing the strange look on Kinich’s face, Dainsleif sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “[Y/N] is our partner,” Dainsleif says, almost rolling his eyes.
Ajaw’s jaws drop at Dainsleif’s response, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. It’s almost comical to everyone. Mualani and Kachina glance at each other, shrugging their shoulders. Hey, if it works, it works. Who are they to judge?
Kinich strokes his chin. “How does that work? Aren’t there issues with sharing a partner?” Kinich mutters, raising his eyebrows at the men before him.
Albedo shakes his head in response to Kinich’s question. “We learn to make it work between us all. There are many things to learn and get used to, but it works. We all share something in common aside from our love for [Y/N],” Albedo explains, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What’s so appealing about someone so… bland? There’s nothing special about them at all!” Ajaw snarks.
Pantalone chuckles, smiling at Ajaw. If people look closely, there’s a dark aura surrounding Pantalone as he tries to remain calm and polite. How much longer can he keep up his facade with a little shithead like Ajaw around? The little floating menace to society constantly insulting you just for existing has been getting on everyone’s nerves since the meeting.
“I would keep my comments to myself if I were you, Ajaw. You disrespecting someone important to us will get you nowhere,” Pantalone says, clenching his jaws.
Ajaw bursts out laughing, relishing the fact that he manages to get on every person’s nerves. All he has to do is insult you and question these men’s choices. Kinich sighs and apologizes to the men for Ajaw’s behavior before temporarily banishing Ajaw.
“If you cannot keep your companion’s mouth shut, I think it’s best for you to keep your distance from [Y/N]. We wouldn’t want someone like Ajaw near them,” Xiao states, crossing his arms over his chest while staring at Kinich with disapproval.
The tension is cut by the sound of you gasping. Everyone’s heads snap in your direction to see you and Capitano surrounded by Koholasaur and Yumkasaur Whelps. You look at the others with wide eyes; they can’t tell whether it’s from fear or excitement. You mouth something to them, but they can’t decipher what you’re trying to communicate.
“Can someone tell me if I’m hallucinating? Those creatures behind [Y/N] are Tepetlisaur Whelps, correct?” Lyney asks, turning to the men.
Dottore turns to Mualani and Kachina, raising his eyebrows at the two girls. “I thought Tepetlisaurs aren’t in this particular area,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.
You and Capitano are surrounded by Tepetlisaur, Koholasaur, and Yumakasaur Whelps— though the Tepetlisaur Whelps outnumbers the other Saurians. The Tepetlisaur Whelps roars around you, waddling and gazing at you curiously. So far, none of them have yet to attack you and Capitano. If they were to try to attack, you know Capitano would not spare any of the Whelps, no matter how cute they are.
Paimon strokes her chin, scrutinizing the Tepetlisaur Whelps. “That’s odd. If this area doesn’t have Tepetlisaurs around, then how did these little guys end up on the Teticpac Peak?” Paimon exclaims, propping her hands on her hips as she bobs up and down in the air.
Capitano looks down at you after feeling you lightly poke his arm. “Yes, what is it, [Y/N]?”
You clear your throat. “You’re not going to attack the Whelps, are you? They’re little babies, and I don’t think they can cause that much bodily harm, right?”
Capitano sighs. “I will not harm them, [Y/N]. However, if they inflict harm on you, I have no other choice but to protect and defend you from any harm heading your way,” Capitano replies.
While you want to protest against hurting the Whelps, you can’t help but feel giddy over the fact that Capitano is devoted to protecting you. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you look away from Capitano, feeling his eyes burn holes into the back of your head. Dakarai roars softly, tugging on your pants while looking up at you with curiosity. Now that you have Dakarai beside you, you realize that he’s a little bit bigger than the other Tepetlisaur Whelps.
Dakarai roars again, almost like he’s asking you if you’re okay. You smile and squat in front of him, gently petting his head. Dakarai nuzzles into your hands, closing his eyes with contentment.
“I’m alright, Dakarai. There’s no need to worry about me, little fella.” You reassure the Tepetlisaur Whelp.
Dakarai roars softly, flapping his arms around. The other Saurian Whelps around you watch the interaction between you and Dakarai curiously. To them, it’s strange to see a species like them interact with a human— one they are not companions with— so effortlessly. A human such as yourself interacting with an overgrown Tepetlisaur Whelp is foreign to them. Usually, a human with no vision or Saurian companions steer clear.
A much smaller Tepetlisaur Whelp waddles up to you and stands beside Dakarai, softly roaring to get your attention. The Whelp tilts its head at you, blinking. You and Dakarai trade looks with each other before you slowly reach forward to pet the Tepetlisaur Whelp. The Saurian closes its eyes and leans into your touch. You lightly scratch behind the ears, watching it start kicking its feet— almost like you found the perfect spot to itch. You hold back a squeal, watching the feet kick become faster before it tips over and stumbles into your arms.
Zhongli hums, stroking his chin. “The Tepetlisaur Whelps must have followed us to the Teticpac Peak by burrowing under the ground the entire way here from the previous location,” Zhongli murmurs, watching you interact with the Whelps that surround you and Capitano.
Kachina giggles, clapping her hands. “That’s correct, Mister Zhongli! And given by the body language and expressions of the Whelps, they seem to really like [Y/N]!” Kachina squeals, grinning from ear to ear.
The Whelps that surrounds you and Capitano ignores the towering figure of the Harbinger. Their focus is on you, staring at you expectantly. You make sure to give each Saurian Whelps attention, not wanting any of them to feel left out. The Yumkasaur Whelp purrs as you pet its head, rubbing its body against your arms, reminding you of kittens. Kittens do that, and so do dogs. As for Yumkasaur Whelps, they remind you of kittens with their mannerisms. They hiss when they see something unfamiliar or try to intimidate something they deem a threat to their safety.
While most are hesitant to be around you (who can blame them?), their worries are quelled when you respect their space after one of them hissed at you. Capitano isn’t too pleased that you’re friendly with the Whelps, but hey, as long as they don’t hurt you, he will tolerate the (admittedly) cute interaction between you and the Whelps.
“Do you guys have any pets by any chance?” Mualani asks, not taking her eyes off you.
Aether shakes his head. “We don’t, but we do have a Paimon,” Aether replies, gesturing to the floating girl beside him.
Paimon gasps and exclaims, “Hey!” She stomps her feet in midair, glaring at her blond companion, “Paimon is not a pet!”
“That’s why he said ‘a Paimon,’” Venti interjects, chuckling at the fuming girl.
Rapid footsteps approach the group, grabbing their attention. You stand before them with one Tepetlisaur Whelp dangling from one arm and a Yumkasaur Whelp on the other, smiling at them eagerly. The Koholasaur Whelp is draping around your neck, resting on your shoulders while gazing at familiar faces with curiosity.
You hold up the Whelps, gazing at your beloveds with sparkles in your eyes. “Can we keep them?”
“Absolutely not,” Neuvillette immediately shoots down your question. Neuvillette stares down at the Whelps in your arms (and around your shoulders), a dark aura surrounding him.
The once blue skies in the Teticpac Peak gradually turn into an ominous dark gray, thunder cracking in the distance. Mualani, Kachina, and Kinich rub the back of their necks as they watch the scene in silence. You pout and hold them close to your face, giving Neuvillette and the other men puppy dog eyes.
Wriothesley chuckles, rubbing your head affectionately. “I don’t know about that, dollface. Do we have the space for Saurians to roam in the abode?” Wriothesley asks, propping his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows at you.
“But they’re so cute!! Look at their little faces!” You coo, snuggling up against the Saurian Whelps. “How can you say no to them?” You pout.
Childe hums, stroking his chin. While the Saurian Whelps are adorable, letting them reside in the abode isn’t the best idea. It’s not like Childe doesn’t want to deal with dragons— he already has to deal with Zhongli and Neuvillette. What’s the difference?— he doesn’t want those little scaled creatures to steal your attention away from him!
“They are adorable, but…” Childe trails off, reaching forward to pet your head. “If we let them live with us, the other two dragons will become jealous and territorial.” Childe gestures to both Zhongli and Neuvillette behind him.
“If Zhongli represents Tepetlisaurs and Neuvillette represents Koholasaurs, then who represents the Yumkasaurs?” Lyney asks, scanning the crowd of men around him while stroking his chin and tapping his right foot on the ground.
Cyno points at Tighnari. “I believe Tighnari is the perfect representation of Yumkasaurs if you ask me.”
Tighnari sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Tighnari’s not one to play into this shenanigan, but he can see it. Mualani clears her throat, gesturing to Kinich without making it obvious (she failed; Kinich notices her gestures almost immediately). Kinich rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Kinich’s not sure if he wants to get involved after seeing how overprotective these men can become when it comes to you. Besides, he doesn’t see you in the same light as the other.
“A dragon would never explode, but a dino might…” Cyno mutters, pressing his lips into a thin line to suppress the shit-eating grin slowly appearing on his face.
Tighnari groans, shaking his head. “Cyno, please, let’s not joke about this right now,” Tighnari pleads.
You look at Zhongli and Neuvillette, giving them puppy dog eyes as you continue to get the Whelps cling to you. Zhongli and Neuvillette scrutinize the creatures surrounding you, their arms crossing over their chests— their chests puffing out, almost to assert dominance over the Saurians.
“Dearest, as much as I hate to decline your requests, I believe it is not a good idea to take Saurians outside of Natlan,” Zhongli says, hesitantly reaching forward to pet the Tepetlisaur Whelp in your arms.
Your eyes water for a dramatic effect, forcing your bottom lips to quiver. “But Zhongli, look how cute they are! They even followed us here!” You’re not hurt or offended over the fact that you’re not allowed to bring Saurians back to the abode. You’re only sad because the Whelps are incredibly adorable, and you can’t bring them back because they’re wild creatures, and you can’t have them as a companion.
Neuvillette huffs, looking away. “You have us. Why would you need another draconic companion?” Neuvillette mutters.
Dakarai roars, almost agreeing with Neuvillette. You place the Whelps on the ground, making sure to pet Dakarai’s head before turning to Neuvillette and Zhongli— both visibly pouting. You grab both their hands and gently squeeze their hands, giving them a reassuring smile.
“I’ve never seen them this pouty before,” Thoma mutters to Xiao.
Xiao rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You should see those three alone. It’s almost pathetic.”
Neuvillette and Zhongli glare at Xiao and Thoma, shutting the two up. Zhongli and Neuvillette proceed to drag you away, with Dakarai and the rest of the men trailing after you three. So much for getting a tour around the Nation of War. Maybe next time, the tour won’t be interrupted by Saurian Whelps crowning you as their leader (and you trying to bribe the men to let you bring Saurians to the abode).
Note: Before I typed this fanfic out, I was planning on having the reader be the creator, but I ended up changing my mind. For those who have been asking me in the inbox about Kinich being part of the harem, here is your somewhat answer! He made an appearance! However, I'm not too sure if I'll add him to the harem. As long as he's an adult, then yes, there's a chance he will be added to the harem. The only issue is my portrayal of Ajaw because I don't have Kinich, so there's a possibility of him and Ajaw being out of character. Anywho! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
I'm doing taglists again! If you don't want to be on the taglist, please let me know so I can remove you from the list :) Taglist: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @rubyninja1, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr
Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
#Genshin impact x reader#Arataki Itto x reader#Gorou x reader#Thoma x reader#Kaedehara Kazuha x reader#Xiao x reader#Albedo x reader#Zhongli x reader#Childe x reader#Venti x reader#Diluc x reader#Kaeya x reader#Kamisato Ayato x reader#Dainsleif x reader#Scaramouche x reader#Baizhu x reader#Aether x reader#Heizou x reader#Al Haitham x reader#Tighnari x reader#Cyno x reader#Kaveh x reader#Pantalone x reader#Pierro x reader#Dottore x reader#Capitano x reader#genshinluvr#Wriothesley x reader#Neuvillette x reader#Lyney x reader
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Keeping it quiet
Paring: Innocent!reader × dads!friend!Nat
Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that
Warnings: SMUT, (legal) age gap, amab!nat, oral, fingering, p in v, pet names, implied aftercare, secret relationship, breeding kink, unprotected sex, no use of Y/N
Word count: 1.2k
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!
AN: sorry for the long wait but here I am
Masterlist
Today was supposed to be a normal BBQ like your family had had so often in this warm summer months but ever since your father invited his collegue over to join something changed. Ever since you met Natasha Romanoff about 3 months back you couldn't stop thinking about her. She might have been old enough to be your mother and a friend of your father but you couldn't denie the fact that you were attracted to her like flies to the light. She was a true charmer excatly knowing what to say and to do. You never felt uncomfortable around her even though she blatanly flited with you. Her touch somehow always lingering on your skin when the two of you were alone. It was only a matter of time until you ended in Natashas bed legs widely spread as she savoured your taste. So the time flew sneaking around your parents watch as you kept your illicent affair hidden falling head over heals for the older woman. Today was one of those days where Nat came over to your parents place and just couldn't keep her hands of you.
Like always Natashas steps were light on the cold tiles of the french villa your family owned. Sometimes you thought she was an actual spy. You didn't hear her standing in the kitchen in skimpy clothing preparing something for dinner as you mindlessly hummed along whatever Taylor Swift song was currently on the radio. "What are you doing bunny" She sneaked up behind you pressing her front into your back her crotch againt the swell of your ass. "Just doin' a salad you know" She humped checking out the area to see if your parents were around before doing anything further. Her hands came up to your hips pulling your behind harder against her crotch. "Natty please" you whined as she smirked pressing her nose against your neck smelling the expensive perfume she had gotten you. "We can't not here" your breathing was heavy uneven "What if my parents see?"
"They're in the garden trust me bunny" She whispered her strong hands trialling up your sides to your chest. Even though your body was betraying you leaning into her touch seemingly begging for more you couldn't give in just yet. You wanted to show her how you infact could be stronger than your most animalistic thoughts. "Natasha not now" she groaned into her hear making you feel the wettnes betwen your owm legs. "Fuck bunny I can't wait to feel your tight little pussy pulsing around me begging me to let you cum. And then after you had your sweet sweet release I'm gonna breed you're dripping with my cum" she whispered into your ear before pushing herself from the counter leaving into the garden. Of course she wouldn't actually get you pregnant you where on the pill and you weren't sure if she was even fertile. It was more of her kink she had explained to you.
The rest of the night you two kept your play up. Acting asif you couldn't care less what the other was doing in front of your parents. Still you couldn't help but admire her beautiful features as she had some boring converstaion with your father about politics or what ever. What really interested you would be the time spend between the sheets with her as she would show you all her passions and desires. After what seemed like hours you finally snuck your way into the guest room. She was spread wide on the comfortable mattress only wearing a wifebeater and her chequered boxers. "There's my bunny eh" she turned her head towards you as you made your way over to the bed swinging your hips . You sat down deside you before turning to kiss you roughly slipping her tongue into your mouth as you shifted to strangle her waist feeling her growing erection as you rolled your hips against her crotch.
"Fuck Bunny" she breathed out as she gripped onto your hips stilling you in place. "let me get you ready first" she whispered flipping you to lay under her as she kissed your neck down reamoving your cami top in the process. She took on nipple in her mouth slightly sucking on it before her big hand started playing with your other nipple rubbing over it. You let out quiet whippers as she switched sides. After what she deemed to be enough attention to your chest she kissed her way down to your panties nibbling on the skin of your hips. She made sure to leave hickeys in her way. You tried your best go keep it quiet but when Nat did her thing it was hard. Natasha kissed your clit through the soaked through panties pulling them down only to revel your sticky heat.
She made a bold lick from the end of your pussy right up your puffy clit swirling her trained tongue around the erected nub. Her scarlet lips attached to your clit sucking on it making you cry out as you tried to close your legs around her head but she kept them spread. She slowly inserted two of her long fingers into your clenching hole as you quietly cried out for mor and more. Natasha moved her fingers roughly and fast not giving you time to adjust. "Fuck your so tight" she groaned pumping her fingers even faster. “Natty ‘m close so close“ You felt your release close enough to grab but then Nat pulled her dripping fingers from your heat leaving you high and dry. “W-What?” You mumbled out opening your eyes again only to see Natasha smirking down at you “I want some fun too honey“ she smirked flipping you to your knees pushing your hips up as you arched your back showing off both your tight holes to her.
You heard her removing her boxers she already was rock hard for you her reddened tip leaking with pre cum as she expertly spits on her shaft spreading the slick over it. She moved closer pushing her tip to you clit enjoying the sight of you bucking your hips desperately trying to find your pleasure. “Ngh Tasha please” you begged making her listen slowly pushing in making you gasp at the feeling of being stretched out like that. She gave you time to quickly adjust before picking up pace fucking you hard and rough as she had a death grip on your hips. You couldn’t care less about the bruises as you pushed your face into the pillow muffling your sounds. With Natasha whimpers and the sound of skin slapping your moans filled the hot summer night air hoping your parents couldn’t hear you.
You kept clenching down on Nat she grabbed onto your shoulders. “Fuck ‘m gonna breed that little pussy ngh… I’m gonna make you so full of my cum“ you whined out before the coil in your stomach snapped and you came hard Natasha following soon releasing her white seed deep inside your whomp. She proceeded to help you through your orgasm even cleaning you up before cuddling you to sleep her arms tightly around your smaller body.
:)
#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff smut#black widow x reader#natasha x reader#natasha x you#natasha romanoff
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" THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER " — garrus vakarian.
MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | sexual content | age gap | making out | grinding | size difference | overpowering.
DILF!GARRUS VAKARIAN who thought the basis of human attraction depended on youth. Imagine his surprise when you not only couldn't stop staring at his aging body like he was a fully equipped armory before a mission, but you showed genuine interest at the prospect of his superior amount of experience.
Here you are, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, fresh from hopping ship to ship serving with your parents until you were brave enough to go at it on your own. Now you follow him around like a lost puppy, constantly questioning his motives just to hear him talk, asking him to explain a calculation over and over again. He notices how you squirm when he talks down to you, so to speak. He's positive you're not incapable, but he's not going to refuse a request from so eager a learner. Even if you're not going to learn how to do advanced calculus, he tells himself it's still valuable to hear it. Even if you demonstrate how little you're listening when you chew on the end of your pen at him, and bat your long lashes. Nod slowly through hooded eyes, letting them generously trail down his figure in his suit.
It's enough to make him trail off, clear his throat, adjust his neckline as he glances away to break the tension he's inadvertently fanning. "Run along now." he sometimes tells you so you'll get away from him, so he'll have some room to breathe, so he's not constantly reminded of what a low-life he is when he's around you. Instead, that phrase sends you crazy, biting your lip at him over your shoulder as you sway out of the room.
"Bye-bye, Vakarian~" you purr, and scamper off.
Garrus feels shame when he lets you win. He's supposed to be older, know better, protect someone like you. But when you're clinging onto him, inclining him down to your soft lips, he can't imagine being anywhere else. Tucked away in some dark corner of the Normandy, you guide his hands to touch your young body through your clothes, riding up the material so his touch sets what little it grazes ablaze. After months of dancing around each other, finally you're granted a little relief. And his face burns hot from the contact however brief.
"I'm... I'm not... usually like this.." Garrus confesses, breathless, heart racing. The possibility of you two being caught together, tangled in embrace in a precarious location... there'd be no way to talk his way out of it. Everyone would think of him as some Turian predator, can't get a date unless it's with a girl half his age. And he's not beating the allegations as his claws dig into pliant flesh, drawing you closer to press your hips into his. As if gravitating towards your sex, heavenly bodies bump clumsily as you reconnect with his mouth. Apparently, you're not interested in hearing his protests, claiming he's not "usually" like anything, because right now he's showing you how much he very much is like this. His grip on you is not one of a Turian with doubts.
You've never kissed his species before, and at first his mandibles were hard to get used to—and it felt like he wasn't used to it either—but once you realized he's much more relaxed with his tongue, everything else fell into place. His lack of lips is an obstacle to kissing, but irrelevant when making out. Meeting in the middle, that tongue is long in reach and eager in attitude, coiling around yours in a way a human's would never be capable of. Reptilian in nature, his sulcus is defined, allowing his muscle to fold in on itself, elongating to the thinner apex.
Your palm that cups his face, draws down so your fingertips dance along the grooves of his scarring, coming to trace the line of his mandible. As long as you've known him, you've never gotten this close, and when he massages your tongue with his deft one, an embarrassing whimper emits from your parted lips. Instinctively, you rear your head to break the kiss—if you can even call it that. But Garrus is unyielding. A strong arm around your waist arches you into him, as if possessive over this act you've introducing him to. Confirming your suspicions with an annoyed growl and his tongue venturing further into your mouth, a wave of pleasant tingles washing up from core in response to such behavior. Your knees are weak, held up by his overpowering strength as he takes what he wants.
Playfully, you scold him by banging your fist against his chest piece. He retracts an inch, and you're allowed a second to breathe even if you're crushed against him. Panting through your grin, you nuzzle him with the tip of your nose, and he speaks against your lips. "You were trying to run away from me." he muses, curling his frame around you so it's truly inescapable. "I like that little sound you made." his mouth grazes yours as he talks into you, recycling air, "Make it again."
#tw age gap#indy: drabbles#ch: dilf!garrus#garrus vakarian drabble#garrus vakarian x reader#garrus vakarian smut#garrus vakarian x fem reader#garrus vakarian x you#garrus vakarian x y/n#garrus vakarian imagine#garrus smut#garrus x reader#garrus x fem reader#garrus x you#garrus x y/n#garrus imagine#reader insert#mass effect smut#mass effect x reader
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Spencer coming home from a long case only to find reader has unexpectedly adopted a bunny? ("Look Spence!! This is Doctor Bunny Reid :)")
thank u for ur request ♡ gn!reader
Your apartment smells strangely like straw.
Spencer creeps inside quietly. It's five AM, too early for him to feel good about waking you up, but he hasn't seen you in eight long days, so he had to come over. He's hoping he can dump his stuff and slide into bed beside you without waking you, content to be close to you, assured that you're alright.
He shucks off his jacket and his bag of dirty clothes by the door and unlaces his shoes. Hand pressed to the wall, Spencer walks down the short hall, past your living room and kitchen, to your bedroom door.
"No, Doctor!" you say in a hushed shout from behind the door. "You can't eat that, that's one of his favourites. Woah, that tickles."
Honestly, the first thing Spencer thinks is that you've gotten so bored you've found yourself enacting odd role play. The second thing he thinks is that you've found someone to do it with, and he quickly backtracks the first thing. He doesn't like the sounds of it, but he can be into it if you're into it. Probably.
"Y/N?" he asks, pulling down the handle and opening the door.
You're sitting on the floor by your bed in strange attire. His t-shirt (that, while he appreciates the sentiment, does not fit you even slightly) under an old soft sweater with a huge hole in the collar. Black sweatpants, one sock, and a pair of white bunny ears perched in your hair.
"You're not supposed to be back until seven," you say, shocked.
"That was my seven, not your seven… Surprise?"
"Spence, I'd totally run at you right now, but," —you point at your lap— "I'm occupied."
Spencer is disappointed, doubly confused by what you're pointing at. The soft lump at your abdomen isn't your tummy after all, but a moving grey creature of the same colour.
"A rabbit?" he asks, eyes widening as the bunny in question nuzzles your sweater for petting.
"Doctor Bunny Reid," you say, avoiding Spencer's eyes, a sheepish tinge to your admission. "To be precise."
"Your sock?" he asks, moving down onto his knees adjacent to your own.
"He took it. I don't know where it went."
Spencer quirks a smile. "He's cute. I don't think I can compete, really."
You put your hand on the bunny's back and lean forward. "You compete," you say, pouting gently, "you're adorable."
His smile turns to pleased surprise as you kiss him. Twice in quick succession, before you arm curls behind his back for a loose hug over your new pet.
Spencer breathes in your smell. Or, attempts to. "The hay and ammonia is a lot."
"I know. I'll figure it out, I promise… I missed you, Spence."
"I can sort of tell." Spencer isn't sure he needs to be a profiler to realise that adopting a bunny and naming it after him while he was gone is the sort of thing only a very lonely person would do. "How's he so calm?"
"He's, um, four years old, he's used to handling. I got him at the pound. His owner died last week."
"You have all the stuff for him?"
"Of course I do," you say, leaning back to meet his eyes. "I didn't mean to get him just 'cos I was lonely, I promise I actually read up on it before I decided. He's handsome, isn't he? You wanna feel how silky his ears are?"
Spencer doesn't doubt you care, or that you're responsible, he's just surprised. You hadn't mentioned wanting a rabbit before. Petting the rabbits ears softly, he asks, "You know they live for eight to twelve years? Sometimes longer? The oldest rabbit ever documented was eighteen years old."
You frown. "I know, Spence, it's a commitment. I should've asked you first, but I–"
"No, I mean. It's not about that, I hope we get longer than eighteen years together. But are you sure Doctor Bunny Reid is the name you want to choose?"
Your face floods with relief. "Well, his real name was Mr. Patterson. Which one do you like better?"
The bunny has enough of your lap, hopping down onto the floor and bolting for what appears to be a big wooden house you've set up for him. There are black partitions for an enclosure leaned up against the wall. Spencer can guess exactly how he'll be spending the day, and it involves less cuddling than he thought.
Spencer takes your empty lap as an opportunity to hug you again, a protective hand cupped behind your head. "Definitely Mr. Patterson," he says, resting his nose against your cheek.
You laugh infectiously, leaning back under his weight.
"I missed you. I'm glad to be home," he murmurs.
You hug him tighter. "I missed you, too."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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Datura
Summary: This was supposed to be a Rhysand x Reader Calanmai One Shot and boy oh boy did it spiral into a whole, multi chapter AU fic 🤷🏼♀️ It’s now a what if Rhys’s mate was someone other than Feyre and they both end up Under the Mountain together fic
Content Warnings: Eventual Smut, Some Suggestiveness because Rhys is here, I mean look at him everyone wants that male; canon typical violence, UTM. Each chapter will have listed content warnings.
Part Two is here
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“Stay inside, away from the windows. Make sure the doors are locked.” It’s the same speech every year, the same frantic, worried rant about staying away from those types of parties and the trouble they could bring. Never mind that you’re an adult, have been for awhile, and are perfectly capable of making the decision on your own and had decided years ago that Calanmai wasn’t really your scene. A party in a library sure, but an outdoor orgy in what was basically the High Lord of Spring’s backyard was about as opposite of you as you could get.
“I’ll be in the attic, organizing my books,” you swear and your uncle’s graying head bobs with a heavy sigh of relief as he shuts the door. Some of the livestock have gone missing--most likely the result of several visiting fae whose scene definitely is Calanmai--but he couldn’t make complaints to the High Lord until he was sure they hadn’t simply wandered out of the padlock on their own. He’s taking all three of the farmhands with him, leaving you alone in the house.
It would be a blissful couple of days. The house quiet. You plan to make tea and practice the new bread recipe you’d found tucked into one of your carefully preserved books from two centuries before. You’ve accumulated quite a collection of things in the years of your uncle’s ceaseless wandering. He’s never stayed anywhere long.
If you could focus on it, that is.
Calanmai might have never been your scene, but it did something to you every year you couldn’t explain. It had started a couple years ago; a strange whispering on the wind at first, a voice begging you to “Come. Come and see.” The next year, after being ignored the voice had come with phantom drum beats, an echo of the ones that would sometimes crest the hill between your farmhouse and the High Lord’s estate; the voice more urgent, the drum beats like a pulse in your skull. The following year the visions started. You’d go to sleep and find yourself drifting through the air, wings beating above you, shadowy hands holding you as you flew over the bonfires and beating drums, bodies writhing and merging beneath you, before depositing you in the darkness of what you could only describe as some sort of ancient cave. When you’d woken up you found yourself half way up the hill in your sleep clothes, unsure of how you’d even gotten out of the house. You’d never mentioned it to your uncle, he was prone to worry, but it was becoming clearer and clearer every year that there was something out there that wanted you out on Calanmai. True to form, you’d started hearing the drum beats upon waking this morning, their beat a steady pulse in your temples.
Still, whatever beckons, you're not interested in meeting. You’d seen a couple priestesses and gotten a sleeping tonic that would knock you out for the night, all you needed to do was pass the time until nightfall, take the tonic, and in the morning, all would be right again. Never mind the ache in your chest you’d feel in the morning, the blaring loss a living thing in your soul, as if your decision to stay away had torn something apart in you. It was a manageable wound, for your family’s sake. Memories of your parents had been hazy at best, it had always just been you and your mother’s brother. He’d said something had happened in your home court, that he’d had no other choice but to take you and run, never any other details. Your powers were a strange, unmanageable thing that prowled beneath your skin, a restless beast you couldn’t tie to any court to try and figure out where you’d come from. They weren’t seasonal, not ice or flame or wind; you’d imagined as a kid you’d gotten them in the Night Court, the darkness that sometimes sparked from your fingertips unruly enough to make it plausible, but there was nothing definitive. And your parents, for all the good things your uncle said about his sister, had never tried to find you, leaving all questions unanswered. Left you alone with your uncle and your constant moving with his job. He worked hard to make a life for the two of you, you owed it to him to not cause any trouble, to stay inside and cook and read and help him with his trading business as best you could. Whatever it was out there that beckoned, it was not worth seeing the pain on your uncle’s face. He’d escaped something, that much was clear, you would not damn him to something else, even for your own peace of mind.
This year feels different though, and you can’t deny it. The voice more urgent, the drum beats louder. You find yourself rubbing your temples, a headache building, as you try and fail to read the recipe in your hands. The words blur, a swirl of indistinguishable colors and shapes. You pinch you eyes closed, shake your head as if to clear the voice, trying again and again to make the words make sense, but the drums won’t stop beating.
You hurl the book across the room, knocking a picture off the wall, glass shattering on impact.
“Leave me alone!” You hiss at no one, teeth bared. Talons form at your fingertips, dark shadows whispering over your skin.
“Come. Come and see,” begs the voice.
You draw a breath, then another, and another until the shadows disappear and the talons retract. If you blow the roof off the house, like last time, you’ll have to move again. Beyond your uncle’s disappointment there’s the issue of… her. The war bands, the bogge, the Attor, always a threat looming over your travels, pushing you further and further away from busy cities, all enough on their own, but the Blight adds another layer. Your Uncle said the war she helped wage against the humans was devastating, but the one she could bring here? Sometimes you wonder if she’s the reason you move so much, as if your uncle has been trying in vain all these years to escape the war path closing in on Prythian. He’d never dare delve into the Human Lands, but Spring is one of the few places she has yet to ravish. You can’t risk another move.
You focus on controlling your breathing as you sweep up the glass, and leave the picture of you and your uncle on the table. You’ll find a new frame tomorrow, for today, it’s best if you take that sleeping tonic and avoid any further outbursts.
You make quick work of double checking the locks before changing into your sleep clothes and climbing into bed. It’s only just starting to get dark, the last few rays of sunlight fighting to break through your worn curtains. The priestesses didn’t mention how long it would take to work, or how long it would last, but the drums are still so loud, and the voice won’t stop pleading. It’s a nice voice, if your honest, but you can’t go out there. You won’t.
The vial in your hand is cold, the glass pitted like it’s been used before, it’s contents a bright blue color that glitters even in the darkness. You down it in one gulp, the taste like bursting, overripe fruit. The effects are immediate, you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillows.
The house is strange, twisted; the wooden walls thorny, gnarled like old tree trunks, the wind howling through the gaps of what used to be the windows. Fire light flickers through the gaps, casting shadows across the space as you stumble from the bed, bare legs caught in sheets suddenly made of vines.
It’s wrong, all wrong.
You stumble on legs that don’t quite work right down the stairs, slashing yours hands open on the thorns that had sprouted out of the railing alongside dark, night blooming flowers.
“Come. Come and see.”
The flowers bloom at the sound of the voice, the violets petals glowing in the darkness, leading you like wisps out the front door, now covered in vines and leaves. Disoriented, you follow the flowers out into the night, the stars dazzlingly bright overhead.
The world outside is not the one you know, the rolling hills now scorched and burned, the trees gnarled and twisted. Dark shapes with glowing eyes sit on the dying branches, starring only at you, some growling, others hissing.
There’s a single line of flowers, twisting away from the leering eyes and you race after them.
“Come. Come and see.”
You’re running before you know it, scooping up flowers as you go.
Something behind you still growls, it’s footsteps rattling the ground behind you. No matter where you look, you can’t see it, like it’s wholly veiled in the darkness. It has your heart pounding in your chest, the beat steady like drums. You push yourself faster, following the flowers over the ruined hills.
The flowers lead you into another wooded area, the trees still barely clinging to life here, their fallen leaves crunching under your bare feet. Branches tug at your shift, tearing the thin materiel, clawing at your exposed legs. Still, the thing behind you prowls closer, it’s breath hot as flame as it chases you.
The flowers wind around trees, deeper, deeper, into the dark, the only light the stars and the flowers; it’s your only chance at escaping. You push, going as fast as your legs can carry you, the drum beats of your heart still echoing in your ears. Soon enough the flowers direct you in a straight line, directly into the mouth of a cave. It feels wrong, going into a cave with some sort of beast snapping on your heels but what other choice do you have?
You reach the mouth of the cave, hand brushing the rough rock, gasping for breath. The darkness beyond beckons, “Come. Come and see,” but there are no flowers here. No stars to light the way, only the darkness of night and shadows.
The thing beyond you roars in challenge as you set one foot in…
You jerk awake like your soul is coming back into your body.
Maybe it is, because you’re not in your bed. There’s half a dozen cuts across your bare legs, staining the bottom of your torn shift, mud splattered across your legs. It feels like you’re wading through soup as you assess yourself, your mind muddled, unable to process where you got the glowing, violet flower in your hands. When you finally have the presence of mind to look up, you are in fact starring at the cavernous mouth of a cave you’ve never seen before.
Somewhere in the distance, the drums pound. Firelight dances among the treeline behind you. You’d gotten outside. On Calanmai. The tonic not only failed, it had left you so horribly vulnerable and queasy you were shaking. You need to get back home, back inside where it’s safe.
From somewhere in the shadows of the trees not far from you, a voice says, “I’m pretty sure I saw her go this way!”
Ice shoots through your veins, feet freezing in place.
The flower seems to warm in your hands, as if reminding you it was there, of the dream that had brought you here. You glance at the cave, the darkness beckoning. It might be a safe place to hide, if those voices are in fact looking for you. They are clearly male, and a few of them at that, and alone in a shift on Calanmai…
The cave might be a terrible spot, you’re pretty sure you had heard something about High Lords and caves, specifically on Calanmai, but the drowsy effect of the tonic has not entirely worn off, and with the voice drawing closer you don’t have time to try and remember what it was.
You step into the darkness, praying it isn’t the worst mistake of your life, and the darkness envelopes you like a caress. It’s almost as if it… moves, shadows and night itself twining around your legs, your arms, brushing along your spine with feather light touches. As if darkness is acquainting itself with the feel of you. You shiver, nervous, but the touch is not unwelcome.
Voices sound outside, but they are muffled, veiled.
Another step, then another, the flower still clutched in your hand blooms, glowing a little brighter. The scent of jasmine and citrus flows from it, fills all your senses.
The cave descends, the ground sloping a bit, and then you have to duck to follow the worn path. There should be loose rock along the path, but it is smooth, like sand beneath your bare feet, like someone had come along and swept out the debris. There’s nothing there to hinder your progress towards what you can only assume is the heart of the cave.
Perhaps this is all a part of your strange dream, that would certainly explain the flower, but what other choice do you have no but to keep going? From behind you, those voices from the woods sound again, as if they have stepped into the cave too.
“You’re sure she came in here?”
“Where else would she go out here?”
“Do you think Mistress will let us have a little fun before she gets her hands on her?”
Its that that makes you freeze, all thought eddying from your head.
The flower shrinks in your hand, the light dimming, even as the darkness of the cave twines itself around you, the caress like a cat rubbing against your legs, as if it’s trying to soothe you, calm you. You can’t move.
The sudden shift in the air of the cave is palpable. Goosebumps raise on your arms as the temperature drops, as the darkness deepens.
“What the fuck?” One of the men hisses.
And then the screaming starts, the blood curdling cries rattling the walls.
Still you can’t move, can’t see, can only stand there in the company of the shadow still rubbing soothing circles into your back while the earth trembles and dust rains down from the cave roof.
Just as quickly as the screaming starts, it stops, the only sound know the subtle drip of something wet hitting the floor. Your senses are sharp enough for you to scent the cooper tint of blood in the air, but even your keen senses can’t pick up what caused it. You can’t hear anything either, no footsteps, no fighting. It’s over.
You exhale a shaky breath, hands still trembling around the flower. Until it suddenly dies, the petals falling from your cupped hands. You’re strangely attached to it now, hands scrambling to catch the petals in the dark when that same glow appears around the bend in the cave.
Another flower, a way out!
You step towards it, not stopping to ask yourself why this one is smaller, so far away from the ground. Its not until you’re nearly upon it, nearly slamming into it, that you realize it’s not a flower at all. It doesn’t truly click into place until a firm set of hands grabs hold of you, stopping you from slamming right into the owner of that glowing set of violet eyes.
You might have screamed, were it not for the voice that says, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”
The world tilts before you as it clicks into place that you know that voice. It’s the one that called you out here.
#rhysand x reader#rhysand x reader smut#acotar#rhys acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar smut#fic series#my fanfic#my writings#utm!rhys#rhysand x reader angst#future hurt/comfort
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The Weekend Getaway {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: Martial strife, anxiety, financial issues, mentions of drug issues, mentions of depression, mentions of therapy/counseling
Comments: Things are the best between you and Frankie, but your birthday is coming up. Giving him an opportunity to set things back on the right path with a weekend getaway.
🎉🎁🎊Happy Birthday @wardenparker!!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day and I love you so much! 🎉🎁🎊
|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
It’s hard for Frankie to talk sometimes. The easiest thing for him to do is cross his arms and stonewall with the blank expression on his face that those who don’t know him read as unapproachable. The furrow of his brow hides the worry that edges his eyes. The downward pull of his lips distracting from the rounded shoulders as he sits quietly as the conversation floats around him. He doesn’t know what to say, how to say it. Not even when it’s his own friends. Men he considers brothers.
“Frank?” His elbow moves, jarred by Benny’s bony one and it wakes him from the distracted fog that seems to settle over him when he’s preoccupied. “It’s next weekend, right?”
“Huh?” His frown deepens, having no clue what the blonde is asking him about and Benny says your name. “It’s her birthday coming up, right?”
Shit. A doomed sigh passes his lips and he squeezes his eyes shut as he realizes that he’s let your birthday sneak up on him again. The guys chuckle, murmurs that are supposed to be ribbing him are sounded around the table in the bustling little bar, but he doesn’t even hear them. His mind goes from almost blank to panicked like he’s just fucked up again.
You two aren’t doing so well. You aren’t fighting, but….he can see it. You’re tired of his shit. You’ve put up with so much. The deployments when he was on, the worry about him not coming home. Then the fucking drug charge he had gotten wrapped up in. The catalyst had been South America.
He had promised it would be just a quick trip. An easy payday to help with the bills that seem to pile up after his license had been yanked and he had been unable to fly. A grounded pilot didn’t make jack shit and appealing this entire thing has been a long and expensive process.
He had come home way past the expected time, without money and even more broken than he had left. It’s honestly surprising that he hadn’t come home to his shit in garbage bags on the porch and the locks changed, but the frostiness of the welcome home had proven exactly how deep in the dog house Frankie was. You didn’t really talk to him unless you needed to and even then, it was with a resigned aplomb. Like you were talking to the coworker you hated but had to interact with. He didn’t know how to change things. “Fuck.”
“Damn, Fish, you forgot?” Benny whistles under his breath and his own beer is down to the last dregs, the third one of the night, so the exuberance of the evening had tempered down into a slightly more relaxed countenance on the human golden retriever. “You’ve got a week.” He offers helpfully. “Get her something nice.”
Frankie shrugs, not even sure that a present would be welcomed right now. Not that he has a ton of spare cash lying around for a present in the first place. “I don’t know what to get her.” He admits.
Pope snorts, the quick grin that he hides behind his own beer bottle tells Frankie that his suggestion is dirty. Something you definitely aren’t interested in. There hadn’t been any of that since before he had left for South America. “You know what to get her.” He huffs. “Give her that di-”
“Not that.” Frankie rolls his eyes, sighing and pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “We- we aren’t doing great.” He manages after a long moment of silence from the table. He knows without even looking that Pope, Benny and Will’s eyes are all trained on him with laser sharp focus, like they are being read in on a mission brief. They don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue and that’s when it’s honestly the hardest for Frankie to talk. He knows what to do on a fucking mission. There’s a clear objective. Marriage is a fuck-ton harder. The only rules are don’t cheat and make you happy. He’s been good about the first one and he’s failed miserably with the second. His snort of annoyance at himself rocks his body in the chair and it’s a fucking saving grace that the waitress comes by to check on them so he has a minute to pretend like he didn’t just open up Pandora’s box.
Benny orders him another round, along with his own beer and Will and Pope decline, their beers still half full. Waiting until she bebops to another table and this time Pope doesn’t even watch her ass as she walks away. His frown is focused on Frankie as he hides behind his hand with the brim of his head seemingly lower than before on his head. “Frank?” He had been leaning back in his chair, but now all four legs are on the floor and he’s leaning in. “Talk to us.”
The dreaded words. Ones that he used to hear from you almost daily. In every single tone he could imagine. Exasperation, pleading, anger, until now those words don’t come anymore. You don’t utter them, and he thinks that might be worse than when he thought he was going to die on that fucking mountain.
He could try to wait them out, out stubborn them, but they are almost as hard headed as him. Maybe even more so in Benny’s case. Sighing, his elbows drop to the table and a hand comes up to push at his hat. “I don’t know, man.” He huffs. “We just….don’t talk.”
Benny snorts, huffing out a derisive sound that sounds suspiciously sarcastic. “You don’t say?” Yep, definitely sarcasm. He spears the younger man, the one who has never been married, with a narrow look.
He can feel Will’s eyes on him, waiting for more. It’s like a hot laser being focused on his face and he shifts. “It’s not- not all about that trip.” He admits after a moment. “I don’t think it is, but it didn’t help. She’s just-” He shrugs. “I’m fucking grounded, bringing home shit for money. Disappeared for nearly two weeks and came home again with no money. She’s tired of my shit. And I can’t-” He breaks off for a moment, pushing down the regret that threatens to expand in his chest when he remembers the shocked look on Tom’s lifeless face. “I can’t tell her about what happened. I don’t even know if she would listen.” He admits, feeling slightly mournful at that revelation.
“Damn.” Pope frowns, looking down at his beer and his own guilt is evidence in his uneasy expression. This all leads back to him, to that fucking plan that had seemed so goddamn easy when he had first plotted it out. He had been so fucking smug and one of his friends is dead, and another is suffering because of it. “Have you thought about….counseling?”
None of them liked to talk to counselors. It was a point of pride when they were younger. They were invincible. Nothing would get to them. Then they understood the implications of letting a counselor in their heads. They could be stood down. Removed from the duty roster and declared unfit. Unable to operate and do what they were trained to do. When ordered to attend any therapy, they pretended everything was okay, even when it wasn’t. Bottling things up and pushing them down. It’s always the healthy way of dealing with things, right?
Frankie winces, shaking his head slightly and blows out a sigh. “I thought about bringing it up, but…..I don’t know.” He feels lost, adrift. For so long you had been his anchor, even if he hadn’t appreciated it at the time. Now it feels like the rope is fraying and you are about to cut him loose. Leaning back, he drains the rest of his beer and thumps it down on the table. “So I don’t know if she wants me to do anything for her birthday.”
Will leans forward, his own arms resting on the table. “Listen man, even if you aren’t in a good place, she will want you to do something.” He promises Frankie. “Show her that you give a damn. She hasn’t left, so try to breach that divide before she does.” His own engagement had ended because he wouldn’t open up and he didn’t want to see that happen to you and Fish. He knows that his friend loves you.
“How about you get away?” Benny suggests. “Take her someplace for her birthday.”
“We are barely paying the bills.” Frankie admits, closing his eyes. “Some fancy weekend away isn’t in the cards.” Guilt settles into his gut again, feeling like a failure more and more every day. If he hadn’t promised you that he wouldn’t touch the coke again, he would be drowning himself in it. He sighs softly and wonders what the hell he can do.
A look passes between the two blonde haired men. Blue eyes communicating with words and there’s a small nod from Benny.
“You know….” Will shifts in his seat, drawing Frankie’s attention from the bubbles that were popping in his beer. “We have that cabin in the mountains.” He makes it sound casual, like an off hand comment, but it’s clear to see where he’s leading.
“I can’t do that-” Frankie shakes his head, feeling even more guilty for making his problems his friend’s problems too.
“You can and you will.” Benny snorts, making Will roll his eyes.
“You’d actually be doing us a favor.” Will explains. “It’s been awhile since we’ve used it. We need an excuse to air it out.”
It’s probably a lie, and an inconvenience, but something has to change. “I don’t know…..” He sighs. “It’s hard to do anything with the baby.”
“I’ll babysit.” The offer comes from the most unlikely source. Every man’s brow lifts as they turn back towards Pope. “What?” He shrugs. “I like kids. I’m good with them.” He huffs, like he’s offended that they don’t believe that he could watch over a kid for a few days. How hard could it be? “We could all pitch in.” Will adds, aware that there's safety in numbers. “Take the baby, let you two get away.” Frankie still looks like he’s going to refuse again, so he leans in to drive the point home. “Fish, you need to fix this. You need time together, just the two of you. Take it. Reconnect with your wife.”
It makes him stop, looking around at the men that he calls brothers, family. Men who would and have put their lives on the line for his and that he would do the same for in a heartbeat. Men who know what is hidden in his heart, even the things that he’s not been able to share with you. They are still here beside him, still believing in him.
“Okay.” He nods, looking down at his hands for a moment and then back up at them. “Thanks.” A simple thank you will never be enough, but it is.
****
“Are you really not going to tell me what we are doing?” Frankie winces slightly at the rough tone to your voice, wondering if you are really annoyed or if he’s just overly sensitive to anything when you talk to him.
“I thought it could be a surprise.” He shrugs and instead of walking to the driver’s door of the smaller, practical SUV that you had bought when you realized you were pregnant, he moves to the passenger door to open it for you.
You seem so surprised by the move, something that makes his heart ache, wondering how deeply he has hurt you over the years with his selfishness if you seem so suspicious of the simple gesture. He wonders when he stopped opening the doors for you, when he stopped trying to show you in the small ways that he loves you.
He shuts the door behind you and circles the front of the SUV, hoping that you don’t hate the getaway. Hoping that it might spark some conversations, some kind of connection between the two of you.
“Are you sure that they will be alright?” You look worried, that little crease between your eyes when you are upset deep and he nods as he closes the driver’s door and reaches for his seat belt.
“Oh yeah, the guys have it covered.” He promises, chuckling slightly. “They outlined their objectives this weekend like they were working up an op.” He shakes his head. “Pope has a fucking binder.” You don’t say anything, but he hears a small snort. A good sign, probably the first little sound of amusement that he’s heard in months and he wants to reach over and take your hand but he concentrates on starting the car and pulling out of the driveway.
Benny had driven up to the cabin yesterday, making sure that it wasn’t too dusty and to put clean sheets on the bed in the main bedroom. He had even told Frankie that he was stocking it with some groceries and refused to take any money for it. Making Frankie both ashamed of his inability to really pay him back, and proud that he has a friend who cares so much.
The interior of the car is silent, but not exactly in that oppressive, tense kind of silence. You are on your phone, the radio is on. Turned to the easy, classic rock station that both of you like, turned down a little lower than he would normally listen to if it was just him in his truck. The blue sky is clear with the exception of the puffy white clouds and the sun shines brightly to make it a gorgeous day. Maybe a day that both of you need.
It takes a couple of hours to get there, Frankie concentrating on the road as you put your phone away after checking with Will on the baby. Taking the exit from the highway and turning off on a little country road. He’s been here before, a fishing trip with the guys and it’s a gorgeous little spot. It’s isolated, the lake down in the valley about two miles away, but the view from the large back porch is the real winner. It looks out over the valley, across the lake and the surrounding mountains. It's serene, calming. The best kind of place to sit in a rocking chair and have a cup of coffee as the morning light fills the valley.
You shift in your seat when he pulls off onto the long road up the mountain, your head turning as you look out the windows. The road is only paved about halfway up, then it’s good that your little crossover has all wheel drive. Frankie slows down and turns to look at you, watching your curiosity get the best of you as he climbs the little road up to the cabin.
You’re quiet when asphalt gives away to gravel. The crunch of the surprisingly smooth graded road is loud under the tires as he slows down a little more. He can feel the questions that are practically vibrating off of you, but you still don’t ask. Waiting, anticipating. He wonders if it’s a nervous thrill that is curling in your stomach like it is his. If you are wildly speculating what could be at the end of this road. Hopefully you aren’t disappointed.
He hears it the second you see the small cabin nestled among the trees. The sharp inhale of breath, the yearning. You lean forward into his peripheral vision as you inspect the clearing. “Frank….” Your voice is soft, making his heart skip a beat. It’s been a long time since he’s heard that tone. The one that says that you are both happily surprised and impressed.
He puts the car in park and presses the button to turn off the engine. Looking over at you and opening his door to get out. “Come on, sweetheart.” He urges as he unfolds himself from the seat and gives a little groan as his back pops.
Getting into the cabin is easy, Frankie produces the key with a small grin when you frown, opening the door with the duffel bags on his shoulders and pushing it open. “Here we are.” He offers, letting you go inside before him.
It’s rustic, but you’ve never claimed to need five star accommodations or 1000 thread count sheets. There is a comfortable looking plaid couch with a coffee table, board games underneath the wide wooden top. A small bookshelf off to the corner with a surprising number of paperbacks stuffed on its shelves. There’s a fireplace, logs already set in the grate even though it’s probably too hot to light it. Although it might cool down once the sun goes down, it is cooler up here on the mountain that home after all. Cozy. That’s the word and he glances over at you to see what you think.
“It’s- we’re staying here?” You ask softly, looking around and absorbing with a look that Frankie can’t quite decipher.
“Yeah.” He shuffles, wondering if you are disappointed by the lack of grandeur. It’s not whisking you away to Paris or splurging on some fancy excursion. “I thought we could-” he breaks off and shrugs slightly, feeling a little raw. “Just relax.” He finally murmurs.
“Just relax.” You rock your jaw as you contemplate his answer and look around the cabin, nodding slightly. “I can’t remember the last time that happened.” You admit.
“We have all weekend.” Frankie adds. “There’s groceries in the fridge, nothing to do except what we want. Oh…uh, give me a second.” He turns around and drops the bags before he hurries back out to the trunk of the car to get the little cooler he had put in there. Despite Benny stocking it with everything you like, Frankie had wanted to bring one thing himself.
The cooler in his arms, he hurries back inside. Bringing it over to the counter and setting it down before opening the lid to pull out a beautifully decorated cake that protected from the ride in its plastic container. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” He offers shyly, setting it down on the counter and looking over at you nervously. “I know it’s early, but this is your weekend.”
He watches, waiting for you to say something, anything. Hoping that not everything is lost and there’s still a small ember of love that you have for him. Something that he can nurture and fan back into the flame that still burns in his own chest for you.
“Frank…..”
****
“Good morning.” You look out from the cozy chair you are curled in. The nip of the morning air doesn’t dispel the almost magic of the dew and haze of the low lying clouds hovering over the mountain. A cup of coffee appears in front of you, smoke curling into the air and its strong fragrance teases your senses. Waking you up out of the almost dreamlike meditation to reach out and take the offering.
“Good morning.” Your lips curl into a soft smile, even as you bring the cup to your lips and your eyes slide up to find Frankie’s. It’s perfectly doctored to the way you like it, making you hum in approval as he slips into the chair beside yours. “Thank you.” You offer.
His own smile is gentle, a flash across his face, but it lingers in his eyes as he looks out over the valley. “Of course.”
This weekend has been good for you. Good for both of you. The hard conversation had come that very first night. The surprise of being thought of turning into tears. Tears turning into pleas for you to talk to him. So you had.
You had laid out all of your disappointments. All of your hurt. Telling him exactly why you had pulled away and started to rely more on yourself than you did him. Why you had honestly started to pretend that you were a single unit. A single parent.
Both of you cried. Especially when Frankie had finally talked to you. Opening up and laying his heart bare, to tell you the things that haunted him. Following him around like a spector and made him close himself off.
Things aren’t perfect. They never will be. That’s not the way that life works, but there is hope. There will be a path to forgiveness for both of you. Counseling will help, both of you going and working together as well as individually. Working on improving your communication and the issues that aren’t magically fixed because of a sweet gesture.
After talking, healing can happen. Has been happening. Sleep helps. You have been so sleep deprived, you had started to think that you would never sleep a full night ever again. Intimacy slowly starting to become more than a distant memory.
Smirking slightly, you unfold your legs and stand up from your chair so you can move Frankie’s arm and slip into his lap with your own coffee still in your other hand as you loop the other arm around his neck. His eyes immediately find yours again and still have that deep, loving look that you have always loved even when you weren’t sure that you still loved him.
“Thank you.” You hum softly, leaning in to press your lips to his. “You already thanked me, sweetheart.” He reminds you, huffing a soft chuckle. “You like the coffee that much?”
You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not for the coffee.” You hum, kissing him again and curling into his chest. “For this. For loving me.”
Frankie sighs, leaning his head against yours and closing his eyes. “Baby, you don’t ever have to worry about that.” He promises. “I’ve always loved you. Always.”
Things aren’t perfect, but with a weekend getaway and a little open and honest conversation, you both know that you will get back to where things are easier. “Happy birthday to me.” You murmur, knowing now that everything will be fine.
#pedro pascal#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales imagine#catfish morales x reader#francisco catfish morales
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Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.
Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!
A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!
Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.
I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.
So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.
Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.
The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.
Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.
I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.
There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”
Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.
Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.
Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.
During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.
Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.
Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.
As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.
Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.
Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭
Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.
Read this post.
This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes
“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.
And I was successful!
This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.
Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.
Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.
Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.
Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!
I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”
Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.
Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.
And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.
The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.
I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.
Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.
I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭
I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...
“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.
But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??
Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)
instagram
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happy holidays! siat asim and lucius please
There's a soft trilling coming from his fireplace and Asim almost doesn't answer it. It's late and he's just come back from a shift that was hell and sometimes he wonders if he's doing any good at all or if he's just there so people can suffer differently before dying painfully.
There are so, so many ways to hurt people and often only one way to save them. He knows too much of the former and not enough of the latter.
His fireplace makes another enquiring trill and he taps the brick with his wand.
It's Lucius.
He only ever calls him for one reason.
Asim accepts the call and is unsurprised to see his fireplace empty. He's likely not in any condition to be crawling on the floor, not that his sort ever do that sort of thing. There's a reason that fireplaces tall enough to stand in are almost standard in magical homes - no one is interested in getting on there hands in knees when they could just lean forward.
He steps into the flames, finding himself spit out in the townhouse in France that Lucius started living in after graduation. It's not much distance from Abraxas, but he'd been glad of it anyway.
There can never be enough distance from Abraxas, which he's reminded of when he looks over to see Lucius laying shirtless on his stomach on the chaise, his head resting on his left arm and his other arm drags to the ground where his hand is gripped around a glass of firewhiskey.
His back looks like hamburger meat.
It's nothing but long cuts and blood, more exposed muscle than should exist outside of a butcher.
"Sorry," he slurs, eyes hazy as they slowly meet his. "Potions took care of the little stuff."
He's known Lucius long enough that he flinches at the idea of what he considers the little stuff. He's more than aware enough of what it has to be, considering the caliber of healing potions he has access too.
Broken bones take a lot. After that, healing potions can get a little confused. There's a reason bones are better healed by a spell. It was probably that, but he knows better than to ask.
Asim shoves down familiar anger and says, "How long were you waiting? You could have called another healer."
Lucius doesn't say anything even as he starts, running a diagnostic spell then beginning the time consuming process of healing every laceration separately. If he doesn't, Lucius's body just stops accepting the magic, not reacting well to broad application.
Overexposure, probably, but it's not like he can just be left bleeding. Abraxas wishes Lucius would let him add it to his chart.
His breath hitches at a particularly deep wound, then he says, "You're the only one that doesn't talk."
Asim hates people sometimes. There are trustworthy healers out there, but he supposes they don't do house calls without asking questions. He probably shouldn't, either.
But he just can't leave him bleeding.
"You should be more careful," he says instead. He knows it's not an accident, that this can't be an accident, but they never talk about what it really is. They never talk about Abraxas.
Lucius smiles, which is shocking enough that Asim stops mid-spell. "I knew this would happen. It's a price I'm willing to pay."
This is more than he's ever gotten from him before. It's oddly disconcerting. "Lucius?"
"I got engaged," he says.
Asim waits for more, but when Lucius just keeps silent and smiling as he continues to work on his back, he says, "Congratulations."
A wife of Lucius's choosing rather than Abraxas's. Maybe she can do some good.
Anyone he loves enough to go through this to have won't sit back and watch as her husband suffers. He hopes.
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Too Sweet
Part One | Part Three | Part Four
Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader
Words: 6,162/26,525
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, lots of awkward flirting in this part, smut in part 4
Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.
A/N: Okay, I think I have the rest of this fic pretty much set, except for the final edits to the smut. Part 3 will be up on Wednesday and part 4 next Sunday!
Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist
A week passes, and the wound in his shoulder heals without any complications. There's no need to see you again, and Fox is relieved. The more time that passes, the easier it is to forget about the interaction, and he soon manages to put it out of his mind entirely. He’s far too busy to dwell on things that don’t matter, and he has better things to focus on.
He still thinks about you, though.
It’s hard not to. He passes GMF every day, and sometimes he finds himself staring at the building wondering if you're working. You'd seemed to enjoy your job, and he finds himself hoping that you're doing okay. But then he reminds himself that it's none of his business, and he walks away.
Another week goes by, and the stitches dissolve, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Fox isn't sure how to feel about it. It's not the first scar he's gotten, and he doubts it'll be the last, but for some reason, he can't stop looking at it. It's strange. The wound was minor, and the injury is no longer bothering him, but there's something about the scar that intrigues him.
He doesn't like it.
It's a reminder of his failure, and the fact that he had been injured by a common criminal. It was embarrassing, and the fact that he still remembers your smile only makes it worse. It shouldn't have happened, and he was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to be the best, and a scratch like this should have never occurred.
He spends his days obsessing over the incident, trying to figure out where he went wrong. There had to be a way to avoid a repeat performance, and he's determined to find it. The new security system has arrived, and he throws himself into his work, spending hours studying the plans and the documentation. He ignores his brothers' concerns and pushes himself harder than ever before, refusing to accept anything less than perfection.
After a week, he's finally satisfied, and he announces the changes to the Senate guards. He receives several confused looks, but no one questions his orders. He's the commander, after all, and if he wants things a certain way, that's the way they're going to be. It doesn't matter what the others think, as long as the job gets done.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?" Fox asks, looking up from his datapad to find Thorn standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face.
"Don't give me that."
"What's the problem?"
"The problem is you," Thorn says, pointing at him. "You've turned the Senate building into a fortress."
"So?"
"You've doubled the number of guard patrols," Thorn continues. "We've already had to reroute half the traffic, and people are getting mad. You can't just keep making these changes without talking to us first."
"It's my job," Fox says, his voice cold. "And you're not in charge, I am."
"Don't pull rank on me," Thorn snaps.
"Then don't question my decisions."
Thorn glares at him, his expression hard. He's clearly angry, but Fox doesn't care. He's doing his job, and his brother doesn't have the right to tell him how to do it. He's the one who has to answer for the safety of the Chancellor, and he's not about to let Thorn interfere.
"What's gotten into you?" he asks, his shoulders dropping, and the anger in his voice is tempered by concern. "You're acting weird."
"I'm not," Fox says, frowning.
"You are," Thorn insists. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "I know we don't see eye-to-eye all the time, but something's up with you."
"There's nothing wrong," Fox says, his tone flat. He looks back down at the datapad, hoping that Thorn will take the hint and leave. There’s already a new message from the Chancellor, and he wants to get started on his report.
"You've been acting weird ever since that incident," Thorn says.
"What incident?" Fox asks, not looking up.
"The knife attack.”
"There were lots of knife attacks," Fox says, his voice flat. "You're going to have to be more specific."
“The one where you got stabbed, di’kut. It was two weeks ago, remember? When we had to go to GMF—“ Thorn stops abruptly, his eyes widening.
"What?" Fox snaps. He doesn't like the look on Thorn's face. It's the same expression he gets when he's solved a case, and it never means anything good. "What is it?"
"I just realized something."
"Realized what?" Fox asks, his patience running thin. He's tired and hungry, and the last thing he wants to deal with is another of Thorn's conspiracy theories.
"Why didn't I think of this sooner?" Thorn says, ignoring him, and he chuckles to himself. He walks over to the window and looks out, his expression thoughtful. "It's so obvious."
"Thorn—"
“This is about the doctor, isn’t it?”
Fox stiffens, and he stares at Thorn, his mouth falling open. He hadn't expected his brother to be so blunt, and the question catches him off guard.
"What?"
"Don't play dumb," Thorn says, giving him a look. "You've been obsessed with that incident ever since it happened, and I know for a fact that you've been avoiding the medical center."
"No, I haven't."
"Yes, you have," Thorn counters. "I've seen you turn around three times when we've walked past it, and you keep finding excuses not to go there."
"I'm not avoiding anything," Fox grumbles. He knows that Thorn isn't going to drop the subject until he answers, and he lets out a sigh, setting down his datapad. "It's not about the doctor. It's about the injury."
"I don't buy it."
"You don't have to."
"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. He looks at Fox for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing, and then lets out a breath. "But for the record, I think you're being an idiot."
"So you've said."
"Yeah, well, maybe you'll listen this time."
"I doubt it," Fox mutters, and he picks up the datapad again. The screen is blank, and he taps at the controls, trying to remember where he'd left off.
"Why are you so set on torturing yourself?" Thorn asks. His voice is quiet, and the question takes Fox by surprise. He looks up at his brother, frowning, and he sees that Thorn is watching him with a worried expression. "You can't keep going like this, Fox."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not," Thorn says. He walks over to the desk and sits down in the chair across from Fox, his elbows resting on the surface. "You're working yourself to death, and it's not going to make a difference."
"It will," Fox insists. "If we can—"
"It won't," Thorn interrupts. "I know you're worried about the Chancellor, but he's not going to disappear overnight. He's not in any more danger now than he was a week ago."
"We can't afford to let our guard down," Fox says, his voice strained. "You know that."
"I do." Thorn nods. "But you can't keep going like this. At least take a break. Go to a bar. Relax."
"There's too much work to do."
"I'll cover for you."
Fox sighs and looks down at the datapad again, the words blurring together. He can't focus, and the report isn't going to get done anytime soon. Thorn is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He's been working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. But the thought of stopping makes his chest tighten, and he feels a surge of anxiety. If he stops, what's going to happen? What if something goes wrong, and he's not there to stop it? What if—
"Fox."
"Yeah," he says, letting out a shaky breath.
"Just take the rest of the night off." Thorn leans forward and gently pries the datapad from Fox's fingers. "You need to rest."
"Fine," Fox says, and he feels his shoulders slump.
"Good."
"But not a word of this to the others," he warns.
"I won't." Thorn smirks and stands up, walking over to the door. "Just promise me you'll try and have a little fun, okay? No matter how boring you think it is."
"Yeah, yeah."
Thorn leaves, and Fox lets out a sigh, sinking into his chair. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples, and closes his eyes. The darkness is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves.
He's been feeling off for a while now, and the conversation with Thorn had only made things worse. The stress is starting to get to him, and he knows that he needs a break. But the thought of stepping away from the office, even for a moment, fills him with a sense of dread. He's afraid that something will happen, and he'll be too far away to stop it. But deep down, he knows that Thorn is right. He can't keep going like this. Something's got to give.
Fox’s stomach growls, painfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten all day. The sound snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, blinking. He's been sitting here for hours, and the sun has gone down. It's late, and his body is screaming for food and sleep.
He stands up and stretches, his back popping, and heads for the door. The mess hall at the barracks has long since closed, and his stomach grumbles again, louder this time. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if there's a ration bar left in his locker. Probably not. Maybe if he takes a walk, he can find something. There's bound to be a 24-hour café open somewhere, and if he’s lucky, they'll have something edible. He hasn't eaten actual food in weeks, and the thought of having something hot and fresh is almost too tempting to resist.
He steps out of his office and makes his way down the corridor, passing the rows of empty desks and abandoned terminals. Thorn’s office light is still on, and when Fox passes by, his brother gives him a thumbs up and a smile. Fox rolls his eyes, and he keeps walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the exit.
The night air is cool and refreshing, and he takes a deep breath, letting the chill seep into his bones. The streetlights are on, and the traffic has thinned, but the city is still bustling with activity. People are milling about, and he can see a few clusters of troopers on patrol. It's a familiar sight, and it brings him some comfort. At least here, he knows what to expect.
He walks for a few blocks, keeping his head down and his eyes forward. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, and the last thing he needs is another confrontation with a citizen. He's tired, and the thought of having to explain himself is enough to make him cringe. It's better to just avoid it altogether.
Fox rounds a corner and pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd. There's a small diner tucked away between two buildings, and the smell of spices wafts out from the doorway. His stomach growls again, and he walks towards the entrance, pushing the doors open.
The diner is small and cozy, and there's only a handful of people inside. They're scattered throughout the room, and most are seated at the counter, chatting with the droid serving them. Fox takes a seat near the door, as far away from the other customers as possible, and pulls off his helmet. His hair is sticking up, and he quickly runs his fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. He's not sure why, but he suddenly feels self-conscious, and the feeling unsettles him. He's usually more composed, but today has been rough, and he doesn't want anyone to see him like this.
He orders a cup of caf, and as soon as it’s placed in front of him, he downs it in a single gulp. It's strong and bitter, and the warmth spreads through his chest, calming him. The exhaustion is still there, but at least the headache was starting to fade. He orders a second cup, and he sips it slowly, letting the steam warm his face as he turns his attention to the menu.
Most of the dishes listed are foreign to him, and he’s so absorbed in trying to decipher the strange names that he doesn't notice someone settling one stool over from him. The smell of lavender is subtle, but unmistakable, and a flash of white has him turning his head before he can stop himself.
It’s you.
Fox nearly inhales his caf, and you look up from your datapad, startled.
"Commander?" You blink a few times, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see you. The surprise on your face quickly morphs into concern, and you frown. "Is everything alright?”
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Fox says, taking another sip of caf to cover up his embarrassment.
"Are you sure? You look a bit...frazzled," you say, eyeing his hair.
He winces, and his free hand shoots up to smooth down his unruly curls again. Your gaze follows his movements, and then you smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut.
"Just a long day," Fox mutters, glancing away. He stares down at his cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger, and tries not to think about the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t believe that of all the places in the city, you’re here, and the realization that you'd seen him make a fool of himself again has him wishing the floor would swallow him whole.
"I understand that," you say. Your smile fades, and you let out a sigh, tapping the datapad. "Unfortunately."
He glances over, curious, and sees that the screen is filled with rows of data. There are charts and graphs, and what appears to be an inventory list. It doesn't look like anything fun, and the thought that you might have a stressful job, too, intrigues him.
“What brings you out this late?” he asks.
You look at him, your eyebrows raised. For a moment, he worries that he's overstepped, but then you smile, and his worry melts away.
"Same as you, I suppose," you say, and he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. You sigh and set down your datapad. “My shift doesn’t end until 0400, but I needed a break from the medical wing. Sometimes, the smell of bacta gets to me."
Against his will, a laugh bubbles up from his chest. It’s short and rough, like gravel under his boots, but he can’t help it. He tries to cover it up by taking another sip of his caf, but you don't seem offended, and when he looks at you again, you're smiling.
"I hear that," Fox says, his lips twitching. "Something about it just..." He shudders, the thought of the thick, gel-like substance making him gag.
"Exactly," you say, nodding. "It's like melting plastic."
"Or glue," Fox says. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing, and he shakes his head. "Actually, maybe it is glue."
You laugh, and the sound is so bright and clear that it startles him. He didn’t think he was capable of making anyone laugh, and the fact that he had made you do so twice is baffling.
"Oh, stars, don't remind me.” Your nose scrunches up, and you let out a soft groan. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to peel my scrubs off and throw them away after a long day."
"I can only imagine," Fox muses, trying to picture you without the scrubs. His mind goes to a place h didn’t expect, and his cheeks heat up. He looks away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the countertop.
"I suppose it’s not so bad," you continue, oblivious to his distress. You tap your fingers on the counter, and then turn towards him. "You know, I heard a rumor that you were afraid of medics."
"I am not," Fox scoffs, frowning. He looks at you, and your expression is serious, but there's a twinkle in your eyes that tells him you're not entirely sincere. "I just have a healthy respect for those who can take me apart and put me back together again.”
"A healthy respect," you echo, grinning.
"Yes."
"Is that why you ran out of GMF like you were being chased by a Nexu the other day?" you ask, and there's a teasing note in your voice that makes his stomach flip.
"No," he mutters, looking away.
He can feel his face burning, and his embarrassment is only making it worse. You'd noticed. Of course you had. And the fact that you'd actually thought about it, that you'd cared enough to bring it up, is both flattering and mortifying. He'd been hoping that you would just forget the entire incident, but apparently, you were more perceptive than he'd realized.
"Right," you chuckle. "Well, you're braver than most, I'll give you that. Most troopers don't set foot in the med center unless they're dragged there by their brothers."
He can't help but chuckle a little at that. If only you knew how close to the truth you were.
"So, if you're not afraid, do you mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing toward the empty seat between you. “I promise not to dissect you, Commander."
Fox hesitates, his stomach clenching. You're asking to sit next to him. Why? It doesn't make any sense, and he's not sure what to say. It's a simple question, but it feels like there's a hidden meaning behind it, and he can't figure out what it is. But, the hopeful look on your face and the inexplicable need to please you is making it hard for him to say no.
You must mistake his silence for refusal, because your smile fades, and you pull back a little.
"It's okay if you don't want to," you say, and your tone is apologetic. "I just figured, since we're both here..."
"No, no, I'd like that," Fox says quickly, scooping up his helmet and setting it on the counter beside him. He gives you a small smile, and you beam back at him.
"Great!"
You stand and move to the seat between you, and Fox finds himself leaning back a little, not wanting to be too close. But when you settle into the stool, the scent of lavender is stronger, and he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy it.
"I thought maybe I was bothering you," you admit.
"You’re not," Fox says, and he means it. Your presence is actually calming, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell, and then realizes what he's doing and quickly stops. He picks up the menu and studies it intently, trying to distract himself.
You don't say anything, and he can feel you watching him. It's unnerving, but the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, and he allows himself a few more seconds before he looks up at you again. When he does, you quickly turn away, a light flush dusting your cheeks. It's oddly endearing, and Fox has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
The waitress droid returns and pours you a cup of caf before refilling his. You thank her as she leaves, and you pick up the cup, taking a sip. You let out a sigh, and your eyes close, a satisfied smile forming on your lips.
"This is perfect," you murmur, taking another sip. "I needed this."
"It's a necessity in my line of work," he says, his tone dry. "I'd be dead without it."
"You're telling me," you say, smiling at him, and you rest your chin on your hand. "I had to get three cups before my shift started just to feel human again."
"Three?"
"Don't judge," you say, laughing. "It's been a rough week."
"I wasn't judging," Fox smirks. "Those are rookie numbers, doctor."
“Rookie, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And how many cups would you say a seasoned pro could drink, Commander?"
"At least four." His smirk widens, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. But your smile never falters, and Fox feels a little surge of pride.
The way you seem so relaxed around him is surprising. Most civilians are put off by his presence, his harsh demeanor and stoicism, the fact that you aren't afraid of him makes him happy, and the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, filling him with a strange sort of euphoria.
"Well, I think we've established who's the true caffeine addict here," you tease. “You better eat something, or your heart is going to explode."
“Is that your official medical opinion, doctor?" he asks, his tone dry.
"It is," you say, giving him a pointed look.
He can't help but chuckle at your seriousness, and the way your brow furrows as you pretend to scold him. It's cute, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he should.
He shouldn't be so comfortable around you, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Something about you just draws him in, and the longer he spends in your company, the less he wants to leave.
"Then, I guess I'd better order something," Fox says, smiling.
“You better," you say, and the sternness in your voice is ruined by the way your eyes sparkle.
The two of you lapse into silence, and Fox takes the opportunity to study you. Your eyes are fixed on the menu, and you’re chewing on your bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Your hair falls around your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand behind your ear. You're beautiful, and the thought comes unbidden, but Fox doesn't try to fight it. It's true. You are beautiful. And you're talking to him, of all people, even after how he treated you.
It's surreal, and the fact that you seem so content, so happy, to be in his company is baffling. He can’t stop the questions from swirling through his mind. Why would someone like you want to spend time with him? What could you possibly get out of it? Surely, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, some scheme or plan. Maybe you were spying for the Separatists, or working with the Black Sun, or—
"Have you eaten here before?" you ask, interrupting his thoughts.
"No, I haven't," Fox admits. "I don't really eat out much."
“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” you say, and you grin at him. The gesture is so sincere, so full of warmth and joy, that his heart skips a beat. "They have the best seallia sandwich here. I've been coming here since I started working at the GMF."
"I'll have to try it, then," Fox says, returning your smile.
The droid returns, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence settles over the table again, and Fox fidgets, not sure what to do. He’s not normally one for small talk, or any talk, really, but something about your presence makes him want to reach out, and the fact that he doesn't know what to say is frustrating.
He glances over, and the look on your face is thoughtful, almost sad. You're staring at the counter, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, and the corners of your mouth are turned down.
You look exhausted, and the sudden realization that you're probably as tired as he is hits him like a bolt of lightning. He has no idea how much longer your shift lasts, or how long it's been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of you suffering fills him with a strange sort of guilt.
"Long day?" he asks hesitantly.
"Yeah," you sigh. "I've been trying to get this grant application finished, but it's not going very well."
"Why not?"
"Well, the money is for a new surgical wing," you say, and you shrug. "But the bureaucrats at the hospital board don't seem to think it's worth the effort."
"What's wrong with the old wing?" Fox asks, frowning. He's familiar with the building, and the idea that it might not be up to par is unsettling. If it's not safe, then the lives of his men could be at risk. "Is it not up to code?"
“No, no, nothing like that," you assure him, and he lets out a relieved breath. "It's just...not very modern."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the equipment is outdated, and the space is cramped," you explain. “With the amount of refugees flooding the planet, we're already at capacity. It's only a matter of time before we hit a breaking point, and if we're not prepared..." You trail off, a frown on your face, and you shake your head. "I don't even want to think about it."
"I see," Fox says, and his stomach twists into knots. He's seen the crowds of refugees, the lines of injured people waiting outside the medical centers, and the thought of what would happen if things got any worse is terrifying. There’d already been one riot, and the city was becoming increasingly unstable. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.
"Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining," you say, giving him a small smile. "I know you've got a lot on your plate."
"It's alright," Fox says, his voice soft. The guilt he feels whenever someone mentions the state of the planet is starting to build, and he has to resist the urge to apologize. He knows it’s not his responsibility alone, and yet, the burden is his to carry.
"Thanks," you murmur, and the gratitude in your voice is startling. You offer him a warm smile, and the knot in his stomach loosens, and the guilt recedes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually get to talk about this stuff."
"Why not?"
"My co-workers aren't really interested in listening to me complain about the state of the medical system. They think I’m being paranoid." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "And they're probably right. We're doing everything we can, and there's only so much we can do with what we have."
"No, I understand," Fox says. His own brothers aren't much better, and he can't count the number of times he's had to deal with their complaints and gripes. The fact that they can't see the bigger picture, the danger lurking just beneath the surface, frustrates him. "Trust me."
"It's nice to hear someone else agree," you say, and there's a wistful note in your voice that makes his heart ache. You sound lonely, and the urge to reach out, to comfort you, is nearly overwhelming. But before he can do anything, the droid returns with your food, and you sit up, smiling. "Thank you."
The food is placed in front of them, and Fox stares at his plate, a little taken aback. The sandwich is massive, and it smells amazing. His stomach growls, and he takes a large bite, closing his eyes as the flavors explode in his mouth.
"Good, right?" you ask, grinning.
"Yes," he says, and he lets out a sigh. The sandwich is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten, and he quickly devours it, savoring every bite. You seem amused, and you watch him with a faint smile on your lips, eating your own food much slower.
The silence between the two of you is comfortable, and Fox is surprised by how easy it is to just sit and enjoy the moment. Every once in a while, you look over at him, and the way your gaze lingers sends shivers down his spine. He can't help but stare back, and the two of you exchange small smiles before returning to your meals.
It's silly, and a little childish, but the warmth in his chest grows with every glance, and soon, he's actively trying not to grin like an idiot.
"So," you say, wiping your mouth. "How's the arm feeling?"
"It's fine." He glances down at his pauldron, and then back at you. "You did a good job."
"That's what I'm here for," you say, laughing.
"I'm sorry I didn't stick around," Fox says, wincing internally at the memory. "Things were pretty hectic that day."
"Don't worry about it," you say, waving him off. "I'm just glad you're okay."
Fox looks at you, his eyebrows raised. You're staring at him, and your expression is genuine. There's no anger or resentment in your eyes, only concern, and his throat tightens. No one's ever looked at him like that before, and the thought that you care so much about his wellbeing is shocking.
"I appreciate it," Fox says, his voice low. He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "And thank you, again, for not dissecting me."
The words sound ridiculous, even to his ears, but the joke seems to work. You snort, and the sound is so unexpected that he has to bite back a laugh.
"Well, I did promise," you tease, grinning.
"That you did."
The two of you fall silent again, and this time, it's more noticeable. The noise of the diner fades, and the sounds of traffic from outside are replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears. The warmth in his chest is still there, and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his meal instead.
He's almost finished when a thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.
"I could help you.”
You look up at him, confusion written on your face.
"With the grant," Fox continues, his voice growing strained. He hadn't meant to offer his assistance, but now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. The ideas are pouring out of him, and the need to please you is making his skin prickle. "I know some people, I could put in a word for you."
"Commander—"
"Fox."
"Sorry, Fox." You let out a nervous laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking," Fox points out.
"True, but..." You trail off, and a crease forms between your brows. He can tell that you're hesitant, and he wonders if perhaps he'd crossed a line.
"Forget it," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"
"No, no, it's not that," you interrupt, shaking your head. "I just don't want to take advantage of you. You have a lot on your plate, and I don't want to add to your workload."
"It's not a problem," he assures you. "My duty is to the people of Coruscant, and if there's something I can do to help, I should do it. It's my responsibility."
"You're not responsible for the whole city, Fox," you say softly. Your brows knit together, and you look so sincere, so earnest, that he can't stop the wave of affection that crashes over him. "You can't fix everything."
"I can try," he shrugs. "And I think the Chancellor would agree with me. It's a good cause, and it could benefit a lot of people."
"The Chancellor?" you ask, blinking. "You'd talk to the Chancellor?"
Fox tries not to scoff. Of course, he'd talk to the Chancellor. He talked to him every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was talk to him.
"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear about the medical center's needs," Fox says, his voice flat.
"That's..." You pause, and the look of surprise on your face melts into something else, something softer, and his chest tightens. "You're sweet."
"I'm not," he mutters, his face heating up. Sweet? What did that mean?
"Yes, you are." You laugh and lean forward, a playful smirk on your face. "And if you insist, I'll take you up on your offer."
"Okay," he says, nodding. He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his caf, hoping that it will hide his blush.
"I'll send you my contact info," you say, smiling at him. "And maybe we can get dinner sometime. To discuss the proposal, of course."
"Of course."
"You pick the place," you add, your eyes sparkling. "And this time, don't run off."
"I promise," he says, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.
The two of you exchange frequencies, and the conversation quickly turns to lighter topics. The stress of the day, the exhaustion, and the anxiety seems to fade away, and Fox finds himself relaxing. He's actually enjoying himself, and the knowledge that it's because of you is both comforting and frightening.
It's late by the time you finish eating, and the streets have emptied. You pay for your meal, despite his protests, and the two of you step out into the cool night air. The moon is high in the sky, and the traffic has quieted, but the city is far from silent.
"I guess I should be going," you say, letting out a sigh. "I need to get back."
"Right," Fox says.
The two of you stand in front of the entrance, and Fox fidgets, his hands gripping the edges of his helmet. He's not sure what to do, and he's surprised by the sudden reluctance he feels. The thought of saying goodbye, of walking away, and not seeing you again for who knows how long, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Let me escort you," he blurts out.
"I...what?"
"It's not safe for you to walk alone this late," Fox explains. He gestures towards the street, and the faint shadows between the street lamps. “The city is dangerous at night."
"Fox," you say, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."
"I know," he says, his voice soft. “But it would make me feel better."
"If you insist," you chuckle.
"I do."
"Well, how can I refuse, when you ask so nicely," you tease, and he gives you a small smile.
The two of you walk side by side, and Fox's eyes are drawn to you. The streetlights catch in your hair, and the faint glow highlights your face, casting shadows on your features. You look radiant, and the urge to reach out and touch you, to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheek, is nearly overpowering.
But he doesn't. Instead, he tucks his hands behind his back and follows along, trying to memorize every detail.
The GMF isn't far. Soon, the two of you are standing outside the entrance, and he's almost disappointed. The walk had gone by too fast, and the thought of going back to the barracks alone, back to his empty room and his empty life, makes his chest ache.
"Well," you say, and he's startled to find that the two of you have stopped. "I guess this is where we part ways."
"Looks like it."
You turn towards him, and his breath catches in his throat.
"I had fun tonight," you say, smiling up at him.
"So did I," Fox admits. He hesitates, and then adds, "I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. It's not often that civilians are so...welcoming."
"Well, it's a shame," you murmur. You step closer, and the smell of lavender surrounds him. His heartbeat picks up, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. "They're missing out."
"I wouldn't be so sure," he says, his tone dry.
"I would," you say firmly. You reach out and touch his arm, your hand warm even through his armor, and the contact sends a shock through his system. "Thank you, Fox."
He swallows thickly and nods. "Anytime."
"I'll comm you about the grant," you promise, and you squeeze his arm. "Have a good night, Commander."
"You, too," he manages, and then you turn, and disappear through the doors.
He stands there for a moment, watching the door, and a strange sense of longing fills him. It's not the first time he's felt lonely, and the feeling is familiar, but there's something else, something new, that accompanies it. He can't quite name it, but the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.
Maybe Thorn was right. Maybe he'd just needed to take a break. But the way you'd made him feel, the warmth and joy, was something that had never happened before, and it's a feeling that he can't let go.
Maybe things are starting to change.
Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia
@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak
@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario
@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano
@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear
@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777
@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean
@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus
@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark
@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland
@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish
@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207
@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive_shark
@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently
#fox x reader#commander fox x reader#commander fox#the clone wars#marshal commander fox#tcw fox#clone commander fox#clone x reader#roy writes#fox is such a disaster#i love writing him like this
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LOVE LANGUAGES!
a/n: thanks 🎥 nonnie for requesting sm! means a lot! hope i do ur requests justice 🙂↕️
also i read throu this once and saw how much i did acts of service/gift giving LOL
and nonnie if you're seeing this i'll most likely do the other request you asked for!
featuring: Megumi, Nanami, Toji, Yuta, Toge, Yuji, Satoru, Suguru
warnings: breeding kink in suguru's, fem!reader in suguru's and gn!reader everywhere else!
MEGUMI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
quality time with a sprinkle of words of affirmation!
✎ it's no secret Megumi prefers the idea of "together alone", aka just sitting in the same room each of you doing different tasks or even just scrolling on your phones. (you don't even have to be near each other, honestly-)
✎ one of his favorite activities to do with you is when it's later at night and you're sitting nearby him while he just rambles on about random facts he finds interesting.
✎ the fact you'll just sit there, smiling at him like an idiot while you hold him close to you as you listen to every word he says- even asking him questions about whatever it is he's talking about makes him feel all fuzzy.
✎ at this point you know every little thing that's going on in his book he sometimes likes to read outloud to you, saying his theories or random things that happen to contradict themselves in whatever it is he's reading currently.
✎ a lot of the time he'll awkwardly just clear his throat and apologize for rambling, but each and every time you compliment him by saying you love his voice as he speaks about anything he's passionate about he thinks he falls harder for you(if that was even possible-)
NANAMI'S love language would be🥁🥁
acts of service/gift giving!
✎ Kento really appreciates coming home from a long day and being surprised by the fact the kitchen was clean when he was supposed to be the one doing it- or the smell of something cooking in the kitchen flooding his nose the second he opens the front door just, he just. he really likes it, ok?
✎ He knows he isn't able to be there for you a lot of the time (missions, teaching, ect.) so if you ever come home and he's somehow there before you you best believe there's some sort of little trinket on the table waiting for you.
✎ He's not one for pda all that much but you bet your ENTIRE ass that if he sees you after a long day he doesn't care where you two are because he is about to just hide in your arms while you rub at his back.
✎ And god forbid if he ever returns home and sees how excited you get to show him some random trinket you saw in the store- handing it to him and claiming it reminded you of him. He's literally teared up before over this- (don't call him out though he'll deny it-)
✎ Has an ENTIRE shelf just dedicated to random shit that you've gotten him, and if anyone even looked at it wrong he'd almost get offended (once again, don't call him out-)
TOJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
acts of service and gift giving! (home made gifts bc bro BROKE!)
✎ ok so we know the dude's kinda a jackass but he does NOT skip out on just randomly giving you just absolutely HIDEOUS homemade gifts.
✎ like? how does he even MAKE them so ugly ?? isn't he good with his hands....??
✎ anywayyy, he'd probably kill anyone(like, actually kill them-) if they ever tried insulting the fact you gave him an ugly stuffed animal that you said reminded you of him
✎ like "why does a grown ass man have a stuffed animal of an ugly monkey...?" then boom, they just got punched in the face
✎ do NOT interrupt this dude when it comes to anything you need. he may be pretty 'cold hearted' but he strikes me as the kinda guy to just stand in front of you if you even slightly squinted from the sun.
✎ he'd get a fucking plank of wood if there was a puddle so you don't ruin those new shoes you've been so excited to get.
✎ so tldr; he'd grovel for you for SURE- and if anyone questions if he loves you they're going home with a black eye 🥰
YUTA'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation/physical touch!
✎ ok let's be completely honest here- the dude's just everything starved. So when the two of you started dating (with A LOT of long months of convincing Rika to not obliterate your entire bloodline-),
✎ he was basically just all over you- though it did take a while for him to actually realize it was OK to want to touch you, that you actually liked it, that you weren't just pretending to enjoy it to spare his feelings or something.
✎ as much as he loves going out on dates with you (he'd spend all the money in the world just to see how your eyes sparkle whenever he buys you a new dessert you've been wanting to try-)
✎ his ideal thing would just be the two of you- his head on your chest listening to your steady heartbeat as you caressed his hair- your nails scratching at his scalp every now and then.
✎ and there's been MANY times he's just started crying into your chest while you hold him- just because you remind him how much you love him, how proud of him you were- you would go on and on for hours if it's what he needed to hear.
TOGE'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation!
✎ he just needs to know it's okay that he can't talk to you- that it's okay that at night when the two of you are alone holding each other close that it's enough that he's just there with you.
✎ toge loves whenever you compliment him- especially when it's about the marks on his face/tongue.
✎ the way you'll pull down the zipper of his uniform just to plant a kiss against each of his cheeks makes him melt.
✎ compliment him on literally everything please! he loves it so much and it means so much to him- like way more than you could imagine
✎ sometimes(ok, basically nightly-) he'll just be laying in bed, flushed face in his hands while he repeats the compliment you'd given him that particularly made him want to just get on one knee and propose on the spot
✎ I stg this guy is just a big baby- hold him and tell him it's ok and that's all he needs to make his day better tenfold.
YUJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
physical touch!
✎ I feel like it's so obvious that if you spot him from the corner of your eye you better believe he's about to full sprint to you in excitement and squeeze the ever loving SHIT out of you
✎ he's a spinner for sure- picks you up, spins you around just to hear how you giggle before complaining about how he's making you dizzy
✎ there's rarely a moment where he doesn't just want to squeeze the hell out of your cheeks, and he just fuckn LOVES to squeeze both his and your cheeks together while he tightly hugs you.
✎ if you're in bed together his face is always buried in your shoulder, laying gentle kisses against your skin.
✎ if he isn't being gentle and loving with his kisses he just grabs you by your cheeks and just SMOTHERS your face with kisses.
✎ also he thinks it's really funny to steal some lipstick from either you or nobara just to run up to you and put a FAT kiss against your forehead- leaving a hard to get off mark lasting for hours
✎ he insists on using the waterproof ones because he thinks it's funny to see you walking around with a mark on your forehead because of him-
SATORU'S love language would be 🥁🥁
gift giving(as if that wasn't obvious enough- rich lil asshole)
✎ he does NOT care where you are, what you're doing- NADA
✎ he's runnin' up to you just to shove a shopping bag in your face and proudly putting his hands on his hips while he waits for you to open it.
✎ a few times you were too busy to open one of his gifts and he literally just opened it right in front of you and went "LOOK! LOOK, IT'S THAT BRACELET YOU WANTED- LOOKKK!" like a toddler trying to get his mom's attention.
✎ it always ends in a giggle and a "you need to stop buying these things, you're enough of a gift as is."
✎ he'll pretend to listen but at this point you know better than to believe he'll genuinely stop giving you random shit that reminded him of you.
✎ like what do you mean this ugly shirt that was WAYY too expensive that's also too big reminded him of you??
✎ what do you MEAN you had a mental breakdown because the shirt is a light color and you spilled wine on it and there was a stain that didn't want to come out-
✎ so tldr; DON'T LOOK AT SOMETHING IN THE WINDOW OF A SHOP. HE WILL BUY THE FUCKING STORE-
SUGURU'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation/gift giving receiving-
✎ he's on his hands and knees for you- NOPE- don't care if he's supposed to be the leader of this wacky ass cult- you're the only person who's aloud to even remotely give him any sort of order to do somethin'
✎ he likes to give you gifts also, but barely to the extent of Satoru- he prefers handmade gifts over anything store bought. But that's just because he's used to everyone buying him whatever he wishes.
✎ so it's a really nice change of pace whenever you bring him a new origami animal you've been trying to master.
✎ he even has a little table by where he sits up on the little stage, your little art projects resting on them as "beautiful decorations done by my lover."
✎ ^ that's what he says anytime someone asks them about it. he'll happily ramble about how excited you were to gift him each one.
✎ he's addicted to praise, it's actually kinda crazy at this point-
✎ you made a breakfast a small child could've made? he's kissing the ground you walk on for blessing him with a meal in the morning-
✎ plus- if you ever do anything for the girls just know he's about to give you an amazing gift- that gift being his cock while he overly praises your motherly actions.
✎ maybe he'll make you an actual mother just to see how much your loving actions change..
M.LIST!
#female reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#male reader#jjk x you#fem reader#megumi headcanons#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#fushiguro#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen#megumi#jujustu kaisen#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushigruo x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#fushiguro toji#toji zenin#jjk yuta
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[ 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ]
⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut (18+), Dilf! Aged Up! Stepfather! Jeno, Unprotected Sex, Infidelity, Daddy Kink, Heavy Teasing, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, Size Kink, Slight Dacryphilia, Implied Breeding Kink
What you and Mr. Lee did behind closed doors was nobody's business. What you did with him nearly every day was nobody's business.
Nobody needed to know what you do with your mother's almost ex-husband and nobody needed to know what the Lee Jeno did with his almost ex-stepdaughter.
You beckoned for it—the day the divorce would be completely finalized—the day you'd never have to worry about a single thing other than yourself and Mr. Lee.
But for now, you stayed in his big, nice house—your mother already long gone after what you call “the confrontation”.
You looked back at the college algebra study guide given to you by your professor. So much for taking a class over the summer.
You sighed. Bullshit. You continued working.
Until, you heard the garage door open. Your ears perked up and you immediately sat up. Though, you regained your composure and slouched back down on the couch.
He's home.
Your insides danced around.
You were definitely going to get fucked.
Jeno and you, you and Jeno, you and Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee and you—it was…something.
The moment you met him there was a sense of tension. Too much tension to the point where you can recall the moment like it happened a minute ago. From the moment when he married your mother, you'd always be attached at the hip with him. And, obviously, your mother noticed and didn't like the intimacy all too much.
Nonetheless, Mr. Lee just couldn't keep his hands to himself and the cat was then out of the bag and right in front of everyone a little too much. Basically, your mom caught you.
His footsteps went through the kitchen. He opened the fridge, getting something from it, and his footsteps wandered in to the living room. You're in the living room, studying, making sure to put your education he pays for to good use.
“Hi, honey,” he greeted, stepping right in front of you.
You didn't look up from your paper. It's part of the game.
You both liked to play to play it sometimes. You'd pretend to be so very busy and ignore him until he'd coax you out of it. Or, Mr. Lee would pretend to be oh so busy (honestly, sometimes he was) and you'd sit on his lap, get all up in his space, until he slapped your face and you were on your knees underneath his desk.
“Hi, Mr. Lee,” you dismissed, your eyes trained perfectly on the paper.
He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before moving his hand to your chin, lifting your face up to look at him. You could see his other hand, it was a water bottle.
He must've gotten it from the fridge.
Mr. Lee stood large in front of you. He was just very…brooding. But now, towering over you, he appeared huge. Not to mention, his frame was partially covering the light above the two of you, making him seem like a big, bad man, just here to take what he wants.
And typically, that's what he does. Not that anyone minds. Not that you mind.
And, you supposed that what's happening right now.
Mr. Lee's white button-down (folded at the forearms, as always) was nearing tight around his chest. His black slacks were just barely tenting from what you briefly saw.
You looked up at him through your lashes. There was heat rushing to your face.
“Did my pretty girl miss me?”
Your lips formed a thin line before growing into a soft smile, “Mhm.”
“Did you have a good day?”
He caressed the side of your face, running his thumb along your cheekbone before taking a sip of his water.
You watched in great awe as he drank, his throat bobbing when he swallowed.
Good lord.
“Tiring day,” you told him, “m'very busy.”
He cocked a brow and set his water on the coffee table. He came back and stood in front of you.
Mr. Lee placed his hands on his hips. “Are you?”
“Yup” you answered, emphasizing the “P” and looking back down at the paper. “I've got an exam for physics, algebra, everything.”
“Got it; you're in a mood, hm?”
God—he knows you so well.
But god—he’s nearly obsessed with you. The thought of you runs through his mind 24/7.
He sat next to you on the couch before grabbing the remote to the TV.
Mr. Lee tugged you onto his lap causing you to whine.
“Really? M'busy.” You eyes never left the paper, but you obviously weren't studying anymore. Even your eyes couldn't focus. You leaned back against him, your head slightly on his shoulder, back flushed against his chest, fully on his lap.
He turned on the TV and settled on golf. Boring. He thinks it's interesting sometimes. However, you're sure he's not paying any mind to the game—he was never a Tiger Woods fan.
His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you. His nose nuzzled against your ear; then, behind your ear where he knew exactly where it felt good. He mouthed at the spot behind your ear—licking you there, sucking you there.
“Your lips are cold,” you grumbled, tilting your head so he'd stop. “Quit, I really need to study.”
His hold around you grew tighter. His bulge under your ass grew harder. You really wanted to squirm on it.
Mr. Lee's lips traveled to your earlobe making you sigh on complete accident. “Oh there's my girl,” he purred.
“No,” you mumbled with a whiny tone. He chuckled in your ear.
You swore you could turn into putty with him.
With one arm still wrapped around you, his free hand rested right at your lower tummy, right above your cunt. His hand slowly inched to the end of your shorts. He played with the lightly colored lace between his fingers.
“Did you wear these for me?”
You shook your head, “No.”
He hummed. “I think you're lying, honey.”
“I think you're distracting, Daddy.”
He hummed again.
His hand slid to your inner thigh, slowly moving until he reached between your legs. Mr. Lee widened his legs causing you to do the same. He leaned back against the couch leaving you no other choice but to do the same.
You tried your best to lift your paper into your field of vision. You failed the instant Mr. Lee ran a single digit up your cunt.
“I am trying to study.” you tried to say as firmly as possible. But, the man only held you tighter.
“And I am trying to play.” he whispered.
You really had to bite back a moan leading to you accidentally squirming on his lap, feeling the way he was basically pressing his whole hand on you—just cupping your cunt like it was nothing to him, like it was casual to him.
“It's warm here,” he mumbled. “wonder if it's wet too.”
You swallowed thick. "Uh-uh."
“Can Daddy check?” he pressed, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“No, m'bus-”
The hand around your stomach quickly snatched the paper and promptly flung it across the room.
“No you're not, honey,” he said, shoving his hand down your shorts, cupping you there. “Stop bein' so damn fussy.”
His legs widened, so did yours, again. You spread wider and his fingers finally ran up and down your slit. You took a sharp breath in as his fingers ran over your clit, then over your very empty hole.
Jeno relished in the way he could hear your wetness.
He teased your hole, feeling you squirm on top of him with want. He pressed a finger inside only to pull it out and rub your clit. Your cunt clenched around nothing.
“Daddy, I need...I need-” you couldn't even form words at this point. “Study. I need to study,” you sighed out.
“No you don't.” he said softly.
You hummed this time, only shakily.
He rubbed your clit in slow circles. He was pressing down harder than usual. You tried closing your legs, but Mr. Lee moved your thighs more to the outside of his making you open even wider and hook your feet near his calves.
You certainly felt locked.
“Please, Daddy,” you whined, “please lemme’ go back to work. I really need t-to—”
“Shhh.”
He held you close to him while he still, slowly, rubbed on your clit. Your head lulled back against his shoulder leading him to suck and nip at your neck with this teeth.
“Not until you gimme what I want, baby,” he murmured, nearly biting your neck. “So wet. You all wet for Daddy?”
You shook your head. “Nuh-uh.”
You wiggled your ass against him. Mr. Lee groaned against your neck, nipping at your skin a little harder. You whined and squeezed his thighs as you held onto them.
“Naughty fuckin' girl.”
Mr. Lee ran his fingers down to your soppy hole again and circled around it.
You could've lost your mind.
However, he never dipped his fingers inside.
“Daddy,” you accidentally whined.
He hummed, “What? Thought you needed to study, hon’”
His other hand slid up your shirt, lifting up your top above your tits.
You swore his dick twitched underneath you the moment he rubbed your nipple between his finger tips.
“Oh, don't worry pretty baby, Daddy knows what you need.”
His finger slid inside your hole and you nearly lost it. Your hips moved with his finger, fucking in and out of you. He pushed in another finger making you nearly sob.
“N-No,” you whimpered in faux protest. “Study. P-Please, Daddy, I need t-to study,”
But, actions speak louder than words and your hand was on his, making his palm press down on your clit.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked, pulling his fingers out of your pussy. “I thought you needed to study. Why the hell are you using my hand, honey?”
“Daddy!” you squeaked “Please!”
You felt like you were in the filthiest porno someone definitely had to pay for.
“Please just fuck me already,” you begged, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Just fuck me, Daddy, please!”
You were definitely crying.
“You've gotten quite the dirty mouth lately.”
You sniffled, looking at him though wet lashes. “Are you gonna punish me, Daddy?”
“Maybe.”
He slapped your pussy making you cry out.
“Please!” you cried, your voice changing due to the tears. “Just fuck me instead!”
"Thought you needed to study."
You could hear his shit-eating grin.
“Fuck it,” you whined. Tear just kept falling. “Fuck this. Fuck the game.”
“You're very needy, and dirty mouthed; you don't even wanna keep playing.”
“I'm done playing, Daddy, please just fuck me!”
“Whatever my little lady wants.”
You were being pushed off his lap, standing and pulling down your shorts, watching Mr. Lee watch you.
He stared at you with a hungry look in his eye as he unbuckled his belt, taking his cock out of his underwear. It was red and hard with precum at the tip. Good fucking lord.
You scrambled on top of him, straddling him, and kissed him. You tangled your hand in his styled hair, his nose pressing against your cheek. Your hands found their way to the buttons on his shirt, shakily undoing them.
“Such a sweet girl,” Jeno mumbled to no one but himself.
You notched the tip of his dick against your hole, slowly sinking down on his cock. You felt like you could pass out.
The “issue” is Mr. Lee is huge. Massive. You weren't quite sure he'd ever fit inside of you.
He's near unbearably heavy. And you felt it.
Everytime he'd fuck you, Jeno slid in slowly. “Savoring the feeling” he said. He remembers once telling you how much he liked the feeling of plunging his dick inside your tight cunt. He loves the feeling of your walls stretching, pulsing around him. He loves feeling himself fill you.
Your tummy always gets a little pouch.
It's happening right now. He thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’ll ever see. Other than you.
Obviously.
You sunk down slowly, feeling everything as you held onto his shoulders; your mouth agape. Mr. Lee kissed you with no kiss back from you, but he understood because he knew exactly why. His poor baby was too absorbed in him. “Holy fuck,” he nearly whined against your lips.
You sighed the moment you were fully seated in his cock, beginning to move your hips. You always liked riding him, liked the look on his face—like Mr. Lee was about to explode or collapse…or die just from the sheer feeling of you. His hold on your hips were tight, guiding you exactly where he needed you.
Mr. Lee’s eyelids were heavy, his mouth also agape, breathing hard. Your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip at the sight, biting back the urge to scream. Instead, your arms wrapped around his neck and you rested your cheek on his shoulder.
At this point he was fully in control, forcing your lips up and down his cock. All you had to do was, “Relax and take it, honey,” he groaned in your ear. “Take it like the good girl you are”.
You nodded, your whines making Mr. Lee spank your ass just to make you scream so sweetly right near his ear.
In a haze, your hand snaked up to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “I love you,” you whimpered.
Mr. Lee stared at your for a while, blinking slowly, then gave you a wide, lazy grin. Kissing your forehead, he murmured. “I know, honey.” He sucked in hair through his teeth when you tightened around him before saying, “I love you too, sweetie,” there was a pause, more moans escaped his lips, “I love you so…so much.”
God he's perfect.
You whimpered before closing your eyes, letting the feeling of his cock dragging against your soppy walls take over you. There was no way you'd get used to this—no way you'd get used to him. Your lips made it to his throat, your kisses quickly developing into nearly biting his neck when Mr. Lee told you, “Don't be so shy, sweetie.” with a smug tone in his voice.
It wasn't long before his hips were slamming into you, his dick stretching you out with every thrust making him (and yourself) a complete mess. He groaned, his hips stuttering the moment he heard you gasp.
Mr. Lee was so deep inside your cunt you could almost see stars.
He chuckled and kissed the temple of your forehead; wrapping his arms tightly around your waist he continued to fuck up into your like it was almost nothing.
“Aren't you glad you're not studying?” he mumbled.
You hummed, nodding.
“Always rather be fuckin' your Daddy, huh.”
You released your bottom lip from in-between your teeth, panting “Yes!”
You felt him hit a spot so deep you almost cried, instinctually clenching tight around him. Mr. Lee growled, swiftly delivering a harsh slap to your ass. “Don't do that to me, baby,” he sighed, spanking you again “you know I can't fuckin' take it.”
And he really couldn't. Especially when you lounge around the house—his house, his couch, his room, his office, his job. And especially when it was times like this where the only thing he could focus on was you and the way your slick dripped down his balls.
He really can't help it. Especially now that you live with him.
But then your walls squeezed him tightly. He was about to nearly growl a threat in your ear when your whiny tone beat him to it.
“M'sorry Daddy!” you cried, “M'gonna...gonna cum...m'sorry, s-sorry, sorry...fuck!” your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, though not as tightly was your walls wrapped around his cock.
Mr. Lee hissed at the way you felt around him. He could barely move, stunned by you and your little apology for him. He never told you to cum, he never told you that you could cum, but you were just so desperate he didn't quite care.
Once your walls were almost done fluttering around his cock, he took it as a sign to shove his dick as far and as quickly as possible inside you causing tears to fall down your face.
“Daddy,” you panted, crying out of pleasure “slow, s-slow down,”
Though you really meant for him to go faster, harder—your mind just couldn't quite grasp on the words you meant to say.
“D-Daddy, please,” you sobbed, “c-can't-”
He quickly cut you off, his hips slamming into you as he chased his own orgasm. “Yes you fuckin' can, sweetheart.” he stated. “Y-You're just gonna let me fill you up with my cum,” he paused, groaning. “And when I'm all finished, you're gonna say ‘thank you, Daddy’.”
He slapped your ass. You were sure there was going to be a mark.
“M'kay?”
You nodded, “M'kay.”
“Good girl,” he praised before becoming a mess of groans beneath you. You were sure he was close when he let out a string of curses—but it wasn't until he shoved up all the way into that you knew he was coming.
You gasped. “Daddy!”
You could die happily the moment you felt his cum fill your used hole.
Mr. Lee groaned when he came inside you, relishing in the way you'd always gasp at the feeling. He mouthed at your neck, mumbling sweet nothings accompanied by small groans.
It took him a few moments, eventually regaining his senses.
He sighed, nuzzling his nose in your neck before repositioning the both of you on the couch. He laid against the armrest with you on top—cock still nestled deep inside you. Neither of you seemed to mind all the slick dripping out and onto his thighs.
You kissed his jaw over and over again while Mr. Lee simply shut his eyes, catching his breath.
“What did I tell you to say, honey?” he reminded, eyes still shut though his lips were forming a smile.
“Thank you, Daddy,” you said in-between giving him kisses. His lips broke out in a grin. “That's my girl.”
His living room was silent. Your living room was silent. The living room was silent. It was silent for a while. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of Mr. Lee breathing softly.
You broke the silence, softly asking, “What's for dinner?”
Mr. Lee hummed. “Maybe pizza.”
“Can you not get Hawaiian this time? I know you like it but it's a little…off-putting.” you looked up at him, his eyes still shut.
He laughed, finally looking down at you. “Don't worry, honey, I won't get Hawaiian.” he pecked your lips before tapping your ass exactly three times.
“Up.”
You pouted.
“C'mon, honey, get up or else leftovers.”
“But then some of your cum is gonna leak out and, Mr. Lee, you know how I like to be all full.” you whined.
He stared at you for a second. You swore his eye twitched.
“Well I should get you a plug then.”
The way you looked at him—it was almost taunting.
“Maybe you should.”
And you both stared at each other. It was weird. Mr. Lee wanted something. He could tell you wanted something. You could tell he wanted something. You both knew you were fully capable of giving that something. But, you both were aware that right now maybe wasn't the right time. You still had college. He still had to completely finalize the divorce with your mother. But one day. Definitely one day.
“I-I'll get up.” you said, your voice shaky as you moved to get up. But then he looked at you, very seriously, before pulling you back down.
“No.” he stated. “Stay here until I get back.”
He maneuvered from you. Standing, he zipped his pants back up, buttoned his shirt back up, fixed his rolled sleeves, his belt.
He leaned down to kiss your forehead before handing you back your discarded study guide off the floor. His kiss lingered like it never had before.
“Be good.”
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Standard Operating Procedures 1.06 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Eddie’s your boyfriend. Now what?
Previous Part: Disaster Preparedness
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. First Dates and silliness, Sickeningly sweet fluff, miscommunication (not in a bad way), sexual tension, smut, allusion to oral sex, PinV Sex
Note: Here we go guys, the penultimate installment of SMVerse. We only have the finale to go. It's been a wild ride, I'm both ready to move on and give my other stories their attention, and also a little bit loathe to let my babies go. They can always make their little appearances in one-shots in the future if I need them back.
Thank you to @deathbecomesthem and @courtingchaos for looking over a few little things. Your insight is always appreciated.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"Do I show up with flowers?"
"Flowers?"
"What's that voice, you don't like flowers?"
"Not really."
How you got to become friends with Steve Harrington, you couldn't tell for sure. One day, he was just a frantic customer running around in a Scoops Ahoy sailor uniform worrying about cherry chapstick, and then suddenly he was sitting in your store once a week looking for relationship advice.
Like today, as he tried to figure out plans to win back his ex.
Or something like that.
It was hard to tell with Steve. Oftentimes you got a half-finished story, as though you were some omniscient being that was supposed to know the other parts already. Sometimes he'd be an apt listener with the patience of a saint as you gave him whatever advice you could, and sometimes, he would go off on a one-sided tangent, and thank you for something that you didn't even know had come out of your mouth.
He reminded you of Jimmy a lot, which was why you were as patient with him as you were.
It was fine; it was a Thursday in January and the holidays were over, that meant the mall was dead. You'd hadn't had a single customer yet and a mountain of shipment to process. He could stay as long as he wanted, as long as he kept bringing cookies as payment.
"Everyone likes flowers," Steve argued skeptically after a moment of contemplation. "You're telling me Munson hasn't gotten you roses or something?"
Speak of the devil...
The shop bell rang, a chain rattled, and leather squeaked, and before you could answer, your boyfriend--you were still giddy referring to him like that in your head--himself chimed in.
"If I was a jealous man," he started with an exaggerated glare at Steve. "I would say you're here flirting with my girlfriend."
You rolled your eyes at his antics and crossed your arms over your chest, both Steve and your menial tasks forgotten momentarily, but you giggled nonetheless.
"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Don't you have school?"
"I came to ask you a very important question," Eddie smiled conspiratorially. "But imagine my surprise when someone else is sitting in my spot."
"It's not your spot. And I'm giving him advice."
"Again?"
"He's hopeless, apparently."
"I'm right here," Steve exclaimed and got to his feet, ready to leave. "I didn't come here to be made fun of. I actually need help."
You were about to deliver a snarky remark to your friend when Eddie held a hand out towards you and led Steve out of the store.
The shop bell rang again and you sighed, lamenting your conversion for the millionth time.
You'd just bully Eddie into buying something small.
After a short time, Eddie returned to the store and approached you with a smug smile on his face.
"What?" you asked.
"Oh, nothing," he replied nonchalantly. "Just playing Cupid, that's all."
"Look at you, hopeless romantic." You opened another box and gleefully picked up a little purple jewelry carding that proudly displayed fuzzy red heart studs. You held them up to Eddie's face and squinted one eye.
"What are you doing?"
"Valentine's Day is coming up," you explained. "Trying to see if my resident Cupid here would look cute in heart earrings."
He slapped your hand away and chuckled.
"You know I would," he teased and then fluttered his lashes at you coquettishly.
"Does that mean you're finally gonna let me pierce your ears?"
"Mmmm, does Claire's have a lobotomy option I could consider first? Maybe next time, sweetheart."
"I knew you hated needles," you shot him a teasing glare. "Alright, why did you skip school today? Spill. What is this very important question you wanted to ask me?"
Eddie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and rocked on the toes of his boots, then began pacing around nervously. Which made you nervous in turn.
"You know, you just mentioned Valentine's Day," he began. "And...actually yeah, they're starting to talk about a Valentine's dance at school. It's corny, they always do it. Paper hearts and cherry punch and sugar cookies and bad love songs.
“And the guys were asking if I was gonna ask you. Well, Henderson more than anyone. I think he has a crush on you if I'm being honest, even though he insists that he has a girlfriend in Salt Lake City, do you believe that? Little liar. Isn’t the whole bit that the fake girlfriend lives in Canad—”
"Eddie," you snapped him out of his tangent with a laugh, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. "Are you asking me to the dance right now?"
Ok, a high school dance...wasn't exactly your idea of a good time but...the idea was a bit of a novelty. They didn't have dances like that at your very Catholic, very-all-girls high school. Even prom with the neighboring boys school was...modest dresses and suits and a nice dinner at a banquet hall. No real fun, no real dancing.
Last time you really even danced with someone was at a party Jen dragged you to and then you ended up in a heated makeout session that maybe went a little too far. And wasn't remarkable.
To go to a school dance with Eddie...that would be so sweet and fun. A do over for some non-existent or downright mediocre experiences.
"No, I'm not actually."
Never mind then.
"But it reminded me," he abruptly turned to face you. "That we haven't gone out on an actual date yet."
"Wh...Eddie what do you mean?" you scoffed. "Did you hit your head? We went out on Christmas Eve. Dinner at Benny's."
Eddie had picked you up for work with a thermos of hot coffee that day, you both worked until the mall closed, and then went straight to the diner. The jukebox played Christmas carols only and Ben had two special holiday prix fixe meals: a classic Pot Roast dinner and then one with a little more Benny’s flair—Christmas Dinner style omelettes, candied yam hash browns, and hot cocoa with peppermint whipped cream. You and Eddie ordered one of each and shared.
But you were both so tired that you didn't even talk; you just sat on the same side of the booth snuggled against each other, dozing off and picking at your food until Benny came to wake you both up when he was ready to close.
When Eddie dropped you back off at home, it started snowing right when you kissed goodbye. It was the perfect date.
"I've decided that it isn't our first date," he announced.
"And why is that?"
"Because we didn't even say anything but 'fuck that guy wanting to make a return on Christmas' and 'pass the salt.'"
"You also realize that we've been going out every Sunday since last..." you paused briefly to think back. "May? First week of June?"
"Those don't count either," he shook his head resolutely. "In fact those were specifically not dates."
Funny, that’s how you always thought of them too.
You were about to give in and agree, about to tell him "whatever you say Eddie." He did make a good point and it wasn't like he was calling your relationship off, he just wanted another chance at a first date. What was the harm in that?
But he beat you to the punch, suddenly nervous under your scrutiny.
"Listen, I know it's silly," he crossed his arms over his torso and shrugged. "I just...want to get it right. Make you dinner, see a movie, I know you just told Harrington you don't like flowers but...a bouquet of cookies or something?" He reached over and flicked the bag of cookies on the ear piercing station. "Make you a mixtape, I dunno."
"You made me a mixtape already, Ed."
"Yeah but I want to give you the kind of mixtape a guy makes for his girl."
You melted at his words and fought the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips and butterflies that suddenly fluttered in your stomach.
"And what's on that one that's not on the other one?" you teased, intentionally obtuse.
"You know...ballads and...sappy love songs and..." He froze and you watched as he flushed prettily. "You're making fun of me."
"It's really fun to do," you told him matter-of-factly.
Eddie ran a hand over his mouth and then looked around. He leaned back to glance out into the mall, and then faster than you could react, he ran right up to you, cupped your face in his hands and smooshed his lips to yours in a kiss. You dropped the jewelry you were holding and covered his hands with yours; you took two little steps to get as close to him as you could, and sighed as he broke away to continue pecking at your lips between his words.
"You're a menace." Peck. "You're a trickster." Peck. "And I'm picking you up for a real date." Peck. "Our official first date." Peck. "On Sunday."
You were joined together once again and he paid special attention to your lower lip, sucking on it in a way that made your spine tingle.
"Hmmm," you pulled away, trying to ignore the heat that was overtaking your body. You were still at work, after all. "Sunday huh? I thought Sundays didn't count."
"Well they count starting now." He stole another peck and then backed out of the store. "You have a great day, sweetheart. See you later."
---
Everyone teased you for your entire shift on Sunday.
Mindy was the first, having already unlocked the gate and counted up the registers for store open.
"Oh lookie here," she whistled. "Miss Lovebird is all dressed up for her date with the wannabe-rockstar."
You did a little spin and a pose for her; not dressed in your Seventeen Magazine best, but something a little more comfortable--still a dress, just a little more you--so you wouldn't have to frantically change for your date.
Chrissy offered to do your makeup on break and then confessed that she had a first date fast approaching too.
"No more Jason?" you asked, trying not to sound too hopeful as she swiped eyeshadow on.
"No, he was kind of..." she sighed. "He wasn't what I thought he'd be like as a boyfriend. I don't think I would've had the courage to end things and go after someone I really liked if I didn't work here though. I've...gained a lot of confidence since being here."
"I'm glad," you beamed at her.
Stacey even apologized for all the jokes she'd made about Eddie before she left at the end of her shift.
"I know I give him a lot of shit, but Munson's actually alright," she sniffed uncomfortably, as though complimenting him was something she was allergic to. "That thing he did at Christmas...the Santa thing? That was really sweet."
"Yeah it was."
Finally, 6pm rolled around and the gates closed. The rest of your team went home and you were left counting down the registers in anticipation as Mindy gave you a talk very reminiscent of the Birds and the Bees that your parents gave you once upon a time.
Before you knew it, Eddie was standing outside with his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, and you flashed him a quick "five" to let him know you wouldn't be long.
"Ok listen," Mindy got real close to you know, hand on your shoulder, lips close to your ear as she whispered. "If you guys wanna do the ol' Horizontal Tango tonight--"
"What are you 75?"
"--at the very least do it in a bed and not the back of his van, ok?"
"I swear to god," you mumbled under your breath.
"Invite him back to your place. Light a candle. Ambience. Make sure you have condoms."
"Melinda!"
She started cackling.
"I mean, I guess you don't have to have--
"Utter one more word and you're fired," you pointed at her threateningly.
Mindy immediately held her hands up innocently and then dragged her fingers across her lips like a zipper.
As you finished counting down the registers though, you wondered if you'd only shut her up because she was crossing a line...or if it was because she was actually really good at reading the secret expectations that you may or may not have had for this date.
It was just a first date, nothing was gonna happen. You could think about all of that next time. But…what if…
The store suddenly became unbearably warm.
Before long, the two of you ducked under the gate and Mindy simply waved goodbye while holding back her laughter as Eddie approached you.
"What was that?" he asked, thumbing over his shoulder at her. "Everything ok?"
"She thought she was being funny, but instead she's just an asshole," you explained, trying to laugh off the awkward conversation and illicit thoughts that still lingered in your mind.
"Ah," he nodded slowly, his eyes squinted for a moment and you swore you saw the gears turn in his head. "Yeah...Kyle did the same thing for me too. You remember when I found out the kids had a bet against us? Apparently the whole team had a secret bet going too.”
"And Kyle won?" you questioned eagerly, glad for a change of topic.
"No, Paulie. But P gave me a cut, thanked me for being such a stick in the mud and holding out as long as I did."
"How much?"
"Fifty bucks," he pulled a roll of bills from his pocket. "Gave it to me today and told me to take you someplace nice. Which was the plan anyway, if you were wondering."
The two of you stood there awkwardly for a second before Eddie cleared his throat.
"You look nice sweetheart," he said with a nervous smile.
"Thanks, so do you."
And he did.
He had his leather jacket over a fitted forest green henley, with ripped black jeans and boots. You'd never considered green to be such a favorable color on him, his usual outfits consisting of blacks and reds and the occasional blue, but it was dashing. Brought out the glowing warmth of his eyes, the tiny honeyed flecks that often got lost in chocolate depths.
"I, uh, have something for you," he announced, fishing something out of his pocket. "I didn't have time to do a new mixtape, so you'll have to take an IOU for it. This...might be a little cheesy... but...well, close your eyes."
You followed his instruction and felt him grab your hands and lift them up. He positioned them just so, and then left you standing there as he prepped whatever your gift was.
"It's not my usual thing," he muttered as he fumbled with what-sounded-like a rustle of paper. "But the guys helped me clean out the van--"
"You cleaned the van?" you scoffed. "For me? Eddie I've been in your van before."
"Hey listen," he suddenly sounded offended. "First date and such, you deserve the best."
"I like the clutter in your van," you told him truthfully.
"Listen, if I hadn't cleaned it out I would've never been able to gift you with this, the Mirror of Galadriel. Well it's more like a hand mirror. Hey no peeking!"
He continued telling you about the way Lucas and Will, crafty as they were, helped him make this little surprise during the break of their Friday night session of Hellfire.
"Apparently Sinclair's little sister and her friends make these for each other, and he's helped them. Which, ask me to paint minis for DnD any day; this shit was hard. There. Open your eyes now."
He slipped something over the tips of your fingers and when you opened them you found...
"A cootie catcher?" You asked with a laugh. "Eddie..."
You were about to ask what the deal was when you noticed it wasn't just a folded piece of paper littered with numbers and words, but taped and glued together with bits of familiar papers.
You brought it closer to your face for further inspection, flexing your fingers this way and that to see the bits folded inside.
Was that the logo from Pizzeria Uno? And...a movie ticket?
"Eddie...what...?"
"Ok, it's not just garbage," he assured you. "I know I don't really clean out my van that often. Shit, there was homework in there that I was supposed to turn in last year. No wonder I had to repeat again. But I guess I never realized that after our not-dates, I sort of left a few things in the glovebox or emptied my pockets in the back to throw out later.
"This...this is from our first outing for pizza. And when we went to see Day of the Dead. I cut up the order form when you paid the last installment on Sweetheart. And this? The menu from that one takeout place we ordered from? That night when...you know...before we went to Chicago? A-and a Chef Boyardee label. Y'know from that one time we ate dinner at your place? Well, actually, I don't think it's from that night.
"I-I know, I'm a walking contradiction," he concluded with a laugh. "I said that this was gonna be our first official date and here I am with a reminder of all the times we weren't dating but...I guess I figured...our times together as friends are just as important as any date. So now that...you're actually my girlfriend, I needed you to know you'll still always be my best friend too."
You felt your eyes water and your heart pound in your chest.
"Do you like it?" he asked nervously.
"It's only," you let out a watery laugh. "Only the best gift I've ever gotten."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Not even the Boston cassette I got you?"
"Not even that," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie...it's perfect."
All you wanted in that moment right there was to kiss him.
And you would have, but the lights in the mall concourse dimmed, signaling customer hours were over and that everyone needed to leave.
"You ready?" he backed away from you and held his hand out, fingers wiggling and eager to twine with yours. You gladly took it, expecting to hold his hand as you walked out towards the employee lot, but he surprised you by twirling you in a circle. He spun you into him, tucked against his side, and draped his arm across your shoulder.
You were sure it was gonna be a perfect night. Again.
Because he was perfect.
---
Turns out the Cootie Catcher wasn't just a gift with little mementos of your friendship, it was the means of which the two of you would decide the fate of your date night.
"I'll pick first," he explained. "And then you pick next ok? You just gotta trust me on this."
Throughout the night you both picked numbers and pinched the corners of the cootie catcher back and forth, back and forth, until you came up with the next activity you would embark on.
"Dinner at...the Hideaway," you read the first outcome that had come up. "The Hideaway? I thought it was the Hideout."
"No, they're two different places," Eddie explained. "Damn, you've almost lived in Hawkins for a year now and you still don't know? I'm a really bad Welcome Committee."
Turns out the Hideaway was a sports bar on the outskirts of town. The bar itself was a little crowded with patrons drinking beers and watching football on the twin tv's that were mounted overhead, but there was a tiny little dining room off to the side that was practically empty.
As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a glimpse of The Wayne under the sandwich header.
"Wayne as in...Uncle Wayne?" you asked with a laugh, and Eddie couldn't have looked any prouder if he tried.
"Yup," he puffed out his chest. "Nothing amazing ever happens in Hawkins, but if you can guess the Super Bowl winner accurately at the beginning of the season for 5 years in a row, you get a sandwich named after you at a bar."
"Shut up," you laughed. "He did not."
"Swear on my mother's grave," Eddie leaned forward and challenged you.
You both ended up ordering the Wayne, and Eddie spent most of dinner telling you Wayne's Scientific Method to choosing the winners, and then the way the winning streak broke.
"He put twenty dollars in a pool at the plant," he explained. "Figured he'd been guessing right at the Hideaway for so long without getting anything more than a free dinner out of it, he might as well try to win a little cash. Turns out fate only meant for him to win a hearty chicken dinner and nothing more, so he didn't try to tempt the Gods again lest he incur their wrath."
The sandwich was delicious, the company even better. And you held hands across the table pretty much the entire time.
---
Back and forth, back and forth the cootie catcher went, and you groaned when you saw the outcome.
Bowling.
"I'm not good at it Eddie," you tried to persuade him to choose again. "I'm gonna embarrass myself."
"Too bad, I'm not good at it either. We'll both look like idiots together."
"I'm wearing a dress Eddie."
"This is our destiny!" He exclaimed with a tone of finality, hand on the gearshift to put the van into drive. "And before you try to fight me on it, I'll even let my chivalry take a hit and let you pay for the first round of beer."
Knowing that a win was a win, you agreed.
Reluctantly.
The Roane County Bowlarama was something out of a time capsule, though, and that in and of itself was a novelty. Casino carpet and funky modular chairs and a neon light that sat over the pristinely waxed hardwood lanes in a very kitschy style that proudly advertised the Bowlarama's foundation in 1960.
It certainly smelled like nostalgia in here.
Eddie went to get your shoes while you meandered to the little concessions counter to get two solo cups of cheap beer and a soft pretzel with plastic cheese for the two of you to share.
As you got your score cards written up, you confided in Eddie that the only time you'd ever been bowling was for a birthday party for a classmate when you were in the 7th grade.
He just laughed and told you it had been the same for him too.
He pointed down to one of the lanes where a family was happily bowling with their two small children.
"If you go over there, I'm sure you'll still see the dent in the floor where I dropped the ball," he whispered. "It was too heavy and I went to go bowl and it dropped out of my hand and almost cracked the hardwood. And I vowed never again."
"Then why did you put it on the Cootie Catcher?" you asked incredulously.
"Well, we've gotta look stupid in front of each other sometime, right?" he reasoned.
“As though we haven’t done that already.” You shook your head. "Eddie Munson, you are something else."
"I know." He bowed proudly and then went to take his turn.
At the end of ten frames, you turned in your scorecards and your shoes at the counter, all the while snickering as the attendant read out your abysmal scores.
You'd beaten Eddie, sure...but it wasn't hard to beat a zero.
Was he really that bad at bowling or had he let you win? You’d never know.
---
It had been a great night but it was getting late by the time you got back out to the van.
Normally, you wouldn't mind a longer Sunday night out with Eddie, even if you had work and he had school in the morning. Honestly, you couldn't quite give a shit if you were tired for a Monday morning call with your boss or to unpack shipment boxes.
Still, you stopped Eddie before he could fish the Cootie Catcher out of the cupholder on the console.
"What's wrong?" he frowned. "You getting tired? Too tired for a late night snack? I put Dairy Queen for ice cream and Bradley's for a mystery snack adventure as options."
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, trying to entice you into letting fate take you once again.
The thing was...ending the night wasn't really the thought on your mind. It had been a great night out, reminiscent of those few early Sunday nights, cruising around Hawkins and finding someplace new you hadn't been yet.
But part of the fun of some other not dates with Eddie were the times you got to spend alone. Even recently, as you started cuddling and making out on the couch or stealing kisses in the food court at the little table hidden closer to the JCPenney entrance while sharing cheese fries, it was the intimacy and closeness you cherished. Those times spent together were spent in a world just for the two of you.
And as the night went on and you came to that realization, Mindy's words echoed through your head: Horizontal Tango.
God, ok, that was not the way you wanted to think of it, but it did get your mind on that night. The last time things had started getting heated between the two of you, the night you thought everything had been ruined before you both realized that there were some actual feelings deeper than friendship there.
That had been...nice.
Sure you'd been high, but laughing and groping and kissing and grinding...
Yeah it was more fun to do all of that with someone than to take care of things on your own with your imagination or one of the bodice rippers you secretly bought at Waldenbooks at your disposal.
One of the bodice-rippers with a love interest that your brain had started to fill in with a certain metalhead that was your then-crush and now-boyfriend.
Suddenly the more you thought about it--actively thought about it--sitting here in the van with Eddie, surrounded by the scent of his cigarettes and his Old Spice cologne, having just had probably the best date you could ask for...you realized that you wanted more too. With him.
More than a quick fuck at a party or a romp on a couch.
You wanted Eddie.
First date be damned.
"Sweetheart?" Eddie pulled you from your thoughts. "We can call it if you want. If you're too tired to drive, I can take you home now and...I'll pick you up for work tomorrow before I go to class."
"Uh." You worried your bottom lip, at a loss for words, as your hand still gripped the top of his over the center console. He was being so kind, so chivalrous, so thoughtful with this whole date, all of these sweet plans...you didn’t want to undercut the effort he’d put in.
How did one just ask their boyfriend to have sex with them?
"Do you wanna have sex?"
The words escaped your mouth as though you were on autopilot, and both you and Eddie stared at each other dumbfounded as the question hung heavily between you.
Well that was one way to do it.
"Wha...whe...like? Here? Now?" He stared at you wide-eyed as he questioned. There was a beat and then he shook his head and stared down at your hands in silence.
What you wouldn't have given at that very moment to hear the thoughts that were clearly racing through his head, as he visibly tried to compute the situation you were both in.
You felt your chest get tighter and your heart raced.
See? First date, no fooling around. You should have trusted your instincts.
"I mean...yes,” Eddie finally blurted out. “But it wasn’t on the cootie catcher.”
It was silent for another moment, then you both broke down in hysterical laughter.
Unintelligible words were shared as you both relived the last few tense moments with intense clarity—basking in the silliness that could only be shared between the two of you—and then you both seemed to have a lightbulb moment. Eddie turned in his seat to grab something from the back of the van while you dug for something in your bag.
It was a race to see who could get there first, and Eddie won as he fell back into the driver's seat with a sharpie held in the air like his ultimate prized possession. You abandoned your own search and began carefully unfolding the cootie catcher and before long, on the inner most flaps, new adventures for the night were written.
Blizzards at DQ was soon scribbled out in favor of Your Place.
And Mystery Snacks from Bradley’s replaced by My Place.
Eddie started situating the fortune teller over the tips of his fingers when you grabbed his wrist.
“What if we don’t end up getting either place?” You asked a little stupidly.
“Well then I guess we’re gonna head to the civic center and play Boggle with Gareth’s mom and dad, Sweetheart,” he snarked. “Pick a number.”
Back and forth the cootie catcher went as you called out numbers.
Until Your Place sat proudly on display between you.
“Alright then,” Eddie placed the cootie catcher back into the cup holder and then clapped his hands. “Your place it is.”
---
For as bold as you both had been in the van, it was unexpectedly awkward when you got into your apartment.
It was a moment of being in a place you'd both been a hundred times together before, but the implication of why you were there made it difficult to simply begin.
You both ended up on the couch for a while, watching some late night reruns and sharing a pint of Rum Raisin until you were calm and comfortable enough to share tentative kisses and touches in front of the glow of the tv.
"This isn't..." Eddie chuckled when you found yourself horizontal on the couch and he kissed his way down your neck and across your décolletage. "This isn't like a porno."
You both broke down in laughter again and he admitted that that thought had been on his mind all night, along with the possibility that this would be waiting for the two of you at the end of the date.
"I had that thought," he continued once the laughter had subsided. "Last time we were like this. That's...do you remember I...god did I honk your boob?"
"You did," you remembered fondly, even though the outcome of that encounter was anything but a fond memory.
"I think that's why I did it," he ran a finger along the neckline of your dress, which caused goosebumps to erupt along your arms as you shivered with anticipation. "I don't need to be anything with you except myself. I don't have to be the...hot boyfriend or the hunky pizza guy or anything. I'm just me, and you're just you."
"You can't make me cry before we fuck," you told him matter-of-factly, and dragged him back up so you could kiss him again.
"Actually," he broke away again and his brows shot up into his bangs. "That's another kind of porno. We can add that to the list for next time ok?"
That set the pace and the expectation for the rest of the night: intimate moments punctuated by words and laughter.
There was no rush, so you took your time to explore one another's bodies. You moved from the couch to the bed and clothes came off one piece at a time, including socks which both of you agreed was the least seductive piece of clothing to remove.
"But I did read about this thing with tights once," you bit your lip in too-little-too-late realization, after you'd chucked your pantyhose into the corner of your bedroom. "It was kind of hot."
"I'm making notes," Eddie tapped his temple twice. "Don't worry. Next time."
And if you ever had the impression that Eddie was a bad student, all of that doubt vanished because he was incredibly studious when it came to your body. Both of you were as you licked and kissed and groped. You took the time to find spots that were sensitive or ticklish, that generated moans or giggles.
Boy, did you find out how much he liked to giggle.
You traced along the hazy ink of his tattoos with the tip of your tongue, in awe of the imagination that he'd put into each piece of artwork permanently etched on his body as he stammered out a brief story of each one. He told you about something he wanted along his ribcage, and when you went to kiss along the proposed path, he burst into a fit of laughter that almost rocketed him off the bed.
Soon there were more panting breaths than breathy laughter. As Eddie took his time worshipping you, committing every dip and curve and crease of you to memory--just like all the other things that he seemed to take note of--and the way you hiccuped and moaned as he lavished you with attention.
You both became teachers, showing one another just how you found pleasure alone--Eddie quick to admit that his solitary ministrations might have been done to the thought of you--before tonight. You were both happy to oblige each other's desires with your hands and mouths.
You quickly realized how much you liked the way that he stuttered your name as you suckled the head of his cock, and he seemed to take that as a challenge when he kissed and sucked your clit in return, the first partner you'd ever had to think to do so and not just fumble with zero thought or coordination.
"I'm a sex god," he boasted, chin resting smugly on your mound after you'd finished riding the crest of your first orgasm. "What can I say?"
"You're so full of it," you scoffed. "But you can say whatever you want if you just promise me you'll do that again."
"Oooh, gonna especially take note of that one," he said mischievously as he walked his fingers up the length of your body and then took your hand in his, both of you ready for the pièce de résistance of the night.
It was a lazy kind of fucking, even though the two of you were as wound up as you were; however, considering that you'd both had an entire day of work and then a lengthy date and foreplay, neither of you could complain.
You could have headboard-banging, heart rate-climbing, frenzied, nasty sex anytime you wanted for however long you'd be together.
"Hopefully forever," Eddie whispered against your mouth after you'd reassured him of just that, as he sank into you and realized that he was more comfortable in the cradle of your arms and thighs than stiffly knelt above you. "You promise?"
"Hopeless romantic," you muttered in return. You moaned as he slowly bucked into you and created a delicious drag of his fingers on your clit again. "But yeah, I promise."
There were very few words after that, just sounds. Pants and sighs and sucking kisses; a few swears as you both found the peaks of your pleasure, and finally an "is there any more of that ice cream" once Eddie collapsed beside you when it was all over.
You both couldn't help but brag how great it had all been come morning, when he drove you back to the mall for work.
Or when you showed up at his place the following night to do it all over again.
Next Chapter: Longevity
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fic#store manager verse#stranger things#stranger things fic
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Beru found out about their new neighbour on a one pretty unremarkable day.
Owen was out that afternoon, gone to recycle some of the old machinery parts they had left after one of their perimeter sensors had finally been worn down by the increased storms. The desert was calm that day, thankfully, as Luke had started to become very restless from not getting to go outside in days.
Perhaps Beru should've realised that such restlessness was going to make Luke forget their usual rules, in his haste to get out of the house, as all of a sudden she noticed that the immediate area around the house was uncharacteristically quiet, and not full of noises made by little boy playing space battles.
She didn't, however, get too far in her searches, when there was a tall shadow casted onto the sand right next to hers.
"Excuse me-" The man didn't even get to finish what he was saying, when Beru had already reacher for the prybar in the toolbox and turned around, gripping it tightly and ready to strike.
The Suns were partially behind the man, obscuring his features momentarily from her. She was tall and broad-shouldered, standing straight with his head held high even in the heat of the day. On his arms he held Luke, who had his arms around the man's neck in a relaxed, loose grip.
That made her loosen up her grip from the prybar just a little. Luke had the gift of knowing when to trust people, even if sometimes that trust overextended itself a little. The man's hold of Luke was, however, also relaxed, which made him a bit more trustworthy to Beru.
The man bend down and placed Luke onto the ground, and by doing so, he gave his face enough shadow for Beru to see him better.
He looked young, if a bit weathered, with some lines already forming on his face, though Beru could tell that they were in places that usually got creased up when someone was constantly concerned about something. There was a long scar running down the side of his face, showing up starkly as the skin around it had tanned more recently. It was the thing that told Beru that the man had not spent too much time on the desert yet, despite his clothes having already been weathered as well, and his footing being even enough on the sand. His dark, curly hair looked like it had only now started to grow out of a very well-maintained shorter cut. Another sign of him being a newcomer.
Still, there was something familiar in him, something Beru couldn't quite place, and she wasn't quite sure if that should've made her relax more or be more suspicious of him.
The man looked at her. His dark eyes were just as weathered as the rest of him, but still kind.
Beru made her decision. She lowered the prybar, and let go of it with her other hand, grabbing at Luke instead.
The man's shoulders lowered a bit as well.
"Excuse me", he said. "I saw your nephew had gotten a bit far away from the house."
Beru looked down at Luke. He looked up at her, and gave her a bit of a sheepish smile.
"Yes", Beru said, and looked back up at the man. "Thank you."
The man nodded.
"No problem at all", he said to her, and then turned to speak to Luke. "Stay where you're supposed to. The desert is a dangerous place."
"But you were there by yourself as well", Luke piped up, not able to resist the urge to talk back just a little.
The man smiled at him. Beru though he had a rather nice smile, even if it was worn down as well. She wondered what kind of hardships he had gone through, out there in the Galaxy, to seem like he had been sanded down by a multiple of storms already.
"I've seen a lot of places that are worse than this, kid", the man said. "I'll be just fine."
He then nodded his head again at Beru, lifted the back of the dark blue cape he had draped over his shoulders over his head, turned around and walked into the desert without another word.
Beru watched him go, ever so slightly confused about the whole interaction. She only moved his eyes away when Luke tugged at her hand.
"Did you know him?" He asked. "I've never seen him before. Not here or in town."
Beru shook her head.
"No", she said. "Did he say anything to you?"
She had not had the mind to even ask the man his name. She looked back out in the desert. He had already disappeared somewhere beyond the dunes.
Luke shook his head.
"He did know you are my aunt", he said. "And not my mom."
True, Beru realised. He had called Luke her nephew, without any introductions.
She decided not to be too alarmed about that. There weren't a lot of people who lived in the area. Chances were that the man had just heard about them already, and remembered who lived in the house.
Still. Not a lot people lived in the area, and even less had any business around there either. On top of that, even though she was more than sure that she had never seen the man before, Beru thought he had looked awfully familiar in some way.
"He seemed nice", Luke said. "He felt nice."
"If you say so, my little sun", Beru said. "Your feelings are often very precise."
She decided not to tell Owen about the man that evening. He would've just gotten unnecessarily worried about it.
----
Beru saw a dark blue cape in the corner of her eye.
When she turned, it wasn't the man from the desert, even if she was sure it was the same cape, with the tattered edges and faded shoulders.
She did know the man wearing it, though. Ben seemed to feel her eyes on him, as he also turned to look at her, and very briefly nodded at her before he went back to dealing with a customer.
Beru thought about it as she went on her business, and she walked back by Ben's stall as she came back.
Ben was already packing up by then, and Beru saw that he had also made purchases, as he was tying some wares that Beru didn't believe he had brought all the way from his house to the town. At the top were a new bedroll, and a pair of boots that even from afar looked too big for Ben's feet.
Beru smiled, before turning away. It really seemed like Ben wasn't alone anymore. That was good.
#idk just wanted to write something about desert husbands#a hot new bombshell has just entered the desert#sw#tcw#my writing#snippets#beru whitesun#commander cody#luke skywalker#obi wan kenobi#codywan#desert husbands#post order 66 au#Star Writing
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CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷
06. brain food ☆
writing in-between cuts!
a quiet knock on the door catches your attention, which was previously focused on scrolling through random shows on Netflix. a weird feeling, you get. an emotion that seems to be the love-child of excitement and nervousness. there's no time to run away from these feelings, though, so you get up and open the door for the poor boy who's been hauling 3 bags of food.
"my god" he sighs, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "i think my stomach has eyes. there's no way we're finishing all this in one night." you laugh, noticing how he's holding his arm out of pain. "i've definitely done the same, more times than i'd like to admit-- here, sit down for a bit." gesturing to the couch, you sit down and pat a spot relatively close to you. he takes this offer with open arms, considering he'd walked pretty far. "sorry i took a while, hopefully i didn't keep you waiting too long?" his hands fidget together as he takes in your room. it's the size of a triple, but you have it to yourself. it's quite surprising how nice the school treats transfer students, considering how main students are usually shoved into a tiny room with 2-3 other people. you place your hand upon his; a ballsy move, but you know how it feels to be anxious about things. you don't want him to be anxious with you. "it's fine, really. i don't mind waiting for you." you smile, moving your hand back to it's previous position. embarrassment clearly runs through his body, but to you he just looked starstruck. after a moment of pushing these feelings back, he returns your smile. "i'm glad, then. um, can we eat? i fear my stomach is going to wrinkle up if we don't." "yes yuuta, we can eat."
"okay, okay. this seems good for now, i think?" he sits back from the laptop you two have been sharing, taking a second to re-read the outline. your eyes scan the page as well; it's a very.. rough outline. you start laughing at the last few lines, where he'd begun to give up on being professional. after all, only you two will see this draft. "why are you laughing?" he pouts, thinking you're making fun of the ideas laid out. "oh relax," you lean back with him, realizing he's gotten much closer than before. "i can just tell that you were rushing writing the final scene." his head whips to you and a hand clutches his chest, feigning shock; a sarcastic gasp falls from his lips. "how could you! we worked very hard on this!" your hand pushes his away from his chest, the both of them landing on his lap. "oh, shut up. i'm just teasing." he huffs anyways, a facade you've become accustomed to. after all, one of your best friends is nobara kugisaki.
reaching to a stuffed dog to your side, you hand it to him. "here, will an emotional support dog help?" he sighs, wrapping it in his arms. "i suppose." laughing again, you sit up and grab the laptop once more. "you're so dumb." he grips the toy more, you don't realize it, but he likes the way it smells of lavender just like you do. "what are you doing now, don't you think its enough for tonight?" you stop to think, after sending the draft to your phone. "well, we'll need to send casting calls to the neighboring schools sometime soon.. but i guess we can be done for now." he closes the laptop for you and places it on the table once again, looking back. "good, we can do that another time-" his sentence is cut off due to his phone practically blowing up in the room over. "sorry," he starts, getting up and handing the stuffed dog back to you. "let me go check on that."
"hey, sorry again. my friends were blowing up my phone for some reason." he comes back into the room where you two were sitting before, unsure if he should sit back down. he can't read your face, and you can't read his either, despite you both feeling the same way. "it's okay. you can sit back down if you want to stay a bit longer..?" you look down for a split second, anticipating the rejection he was about to give you. "i was looking for shows before you got here, but i couldn't find a good one." you try to convey what you say as a question, but it almost comes out as a plea. he doesn't say anything immediately, and you almost get upset? looking back up, you realize he's already getting ready to sit back down with you. "i'd love to stay. i also have an amazing suggestion for a show." your eyes light up, and it feels like the room filled with more air the way you both sighed with relief. "oh really?" you tease him, as he takes back the toy he'd left with you. "lay it on me then."
fun facts -> TWO PEOPLE PINING FOR EACHOTHER BUT NEITHER KNOW IT!!!! a classic trope. chefs kiss. yuuta offered to go get snacks not only because he was starving, but he also needed time to calm himself down before going to y/n's dorm. he was scared. scared that he'd say something stupid, give her the ick, embarrass himself. you know, the works. once he got there though, it felt like he never wanted to go home again.
-> GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCh. screams. kicking my feet like a little girl writing this chapter.
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